As storytellers—beginning, advanced, or world-class, we tend to focus on ourselves: our experiences of the story, our voice, our breathing, how fast we're speaking, where we're standing, etc.. These are all important and worthy of our attention.
At the same time, we offer some of our attention to the story: what happens, how it looks, sounds and smells, how it feels, and what it means to us.
Yet the effect of the story—the results of your work—depends most of all on how your listeners respond to you.
It's that last question that sometimes gets lost: How do you engage your listeners as partners? How do you respond to your listeners' responses in a way that invites them to keep responding to you?
Beginning to Weave the Spell
When you tell a story, you begin by imagining your story. Then you use oral language to stimulate your listeners to imagine the story in their own ways.
Your listeners, in turn, respond to you by constructing images in their own minds. But they also respond with oral language of their own: facial expressions, posture, laughter, even how they breathe.
The communication isn't just one-way (you communicate to them) or two-way (they communicate back to you). As you respond to their responses to you, the communication streams endlessly back onto itself—as though you were dance partners engaged in a continual process of movement and response.
Tightening the Weave?
For example, you might begin, "There was once a girl so small that she could have hidden in an empty pea pod."
Perhaps your listeners lean forward. Some of them smile a bit.
Then you respond to their responses. You smile back. Or perhaps you repeat, "Yes, a pea pod."
Now maybe some of your listeners laugh a little. Or more of them smile.
Buoyed by their positive response, you continue with a bit more confidence—which, in turn, weaves the spell even more tightly.
Adjusting As You Go
Of course, your listeners aren't always responding the way you want. When that happens, you respond by adjusting your telling to produce a different response.
For example, if your group of 5-year-olds begins to snicker at the word "pea" (taking it for its homophone "pee"), you might say, "Yes, she could hide inside a green bean!" If they laugh at her tiny size (instead of at the saying of a forbidden word), then you've gotten the response you want—and you'll likely replace "pea pod" with "green bean" for the rest of the story.
The Loop Called Rapport
When your response to their positive response succeeds in creating a new listener response, you have begun an endless feedback loop. As long as you and your listeners continue to respond to each others' responses, you build a state of synchronization.
Years ago, I saw the tandem storytelling duo of Gerry Hart and Leanne Grace, of Pennsylvania. They told stories as a team, and they told well. But what distinguished them most was the almost magical rapport they displayed with each other as they told. Sitting down and facing forward, if one crossed her legs, the other did, too—at nearly the same instant. If one put the palms of her hands on the sides of her chair seat, so did the other. Without looking at each other, they were always in synch, both mentally and physically.
In storytelling, as in other forms of live communication, when synch builds between you and your audience, the feeling of rapport builds, too. In other words, when you and your listeners create an infinite feedback loop of response to each other, you build a feeling of rapport.
Magnified Influence!
When you gain such a state of rapport with your listeners, your influence is magnified. A nearly invisible raising of one corner of your mouth can create a ripple of laughter, for instance. But if you break the rapport, you lose the "multiplier" effect of synch—and you will need to expend more energy again (perhaps by speaking louder or gesturing more broadly) to have as much effect.
Intense rapport with an audience is a highly rewarding experience. It requires you to maintain a sometimes precarious balance between attention on your listeners and attention on your story. A moment of distraction (such as when someone new enters the room or when your mind wanders) can be enough to break the spell.
Learn to pay close, delighted attention to your listeners and to respond to what you notice. In short, learn to swim in the currents of the resulting endless feedback loop.