CHAPTER SEVEN

Build the Story

Start With the Story Premise

You’ll come back to immediacy later in the chapter. Dayna has done a lot of work to write character descriptions and connect the action list to the conflict of the story by showing the action. But how do those stories begin? Is it as easy as James makes it out to be? Pair the character with an action on the action list to create a plot? Actually, yes.

Dayna’s Steve and Jasmine stories are a good start. All of the right information is there, but the plot and the writing need refining. They contain common mistakes, like mixing tenses and telling about the action rather than showing it. Remember in chapter 5, Dayna developed relatable characters by pairing them with one or more of the actions from the action list and putting them into conflict with it. Steve struggles with the three sub-actions of protecting the company from phishing attacks. Jasmine’s conflict is with sharing more than the minimum necessary by hiding rows on a spreadsheet. This simple pairing of character and conflict inspired descriptive adjectives and nouns for these two characters. This method is just as effective for character descriptions as it is for developing a meaningful plot. It begins with a story premise.

The story premise is the most basic of story ideas. Think of it as a Mad Libs, the popular children’s game of filling in blanks with appropriate parts of speech to create wacky stories. Only the blanks in your story premises are based on well-researched and analyzed content. This is the story premise form (Figure 7-1).

Dayna’s story premises look like this (Figure 7-2).

From this story premise, Dayna is able to create a plausible plot. It helps boost her into creative writing with more confidence. The story premise is a simple and powerful way to start writing a story.

The Character of Your Audience

It’s not uncommon to confuse audiences in the story premise. For example, during a Story Design workshop a participant used the audience profile of the chiropractic clinic and the action of “protect the client’s privacy in the presence of other clients.” They wrote the following story premise:

The story was then told from Nadine’s point of view. Though there is definitely conflict in this story premise regarding the action of protecting the client’s privacy, the story is about the wrong character. Nadine is not the main relatable character. She’s a client. Clients will not be taking the training, the staff will be. Nadine can definitely be in the story, and we can observe how the actions of the staff affect her, but the story should remain focused on the two employees talking loudly about Nadine. This story premise would be best written like this:

How Many Actions Can One Character Do?

You may notice a difference between Steve and Jasmine’s stories. Look at the action lists and story premises for both (Figure 7-3).

Jasmine’s story premise puts her in conflict with only one action on the list. Steve’s, however, puts him in conflict with the main action, which means, he will be in conflict with all of the actions (1-3) underneath it. That’s OK. In fact, putting a character in conflict with more than one (or all) of the actions on the list is usually more efficient than using a large cast of characters to cover all the actions. It’s possible, but it will take more time for your audience to get to know all of those characters.

Three Story Seeds

You’ve seen how a story premise functions. Simply by putting a relatable character in strong conflict with an action from the action list, you have the beginnings of a story. It is a form that sparks story ideas and implies plot. A story premise can manifest itself in three story types I call story seeds:

• nonfiction

• fiction

• metaphor.

These story seeds are written in the form of a story premise and contain all of the characteristics of the Story Design model. In general, nonfiction is the simplest story to construct, because it’s a story that already exists. Metaphors are the most complex, because they must have integrity as a standalone parallel story to reality. The complexity of writing a fictional story is somewhere in between. Each story seed has its own strengths and pitfalls.

Nonfiction

The term nonfiction refers simply to stories that are happening in the workplace that match your action list. If the action is, “Inform staff members in other areas of important information concerning clients,” collect stories of instances where people didn’t inform staff members in other areas of important information concerning clients and the fallout of that action. The reason the action is on your list to begin with is because there is a problem with that in reality. Find those problem areas and gather those case studies.

Where to find a nonfiction story: If you don’t have direct access to your audience to observe their behaviors in person, you may get those real stories (the R in PRIMED) from the subject matter experts or the stakeholder during your interviews with them. Get a hold of safety reports, hotline call reports, quality audits, exit interviews. Behind all of those incidents is a story. You may also find nonfiction stories that apply to the training in the news or online. Leadership failures, fraud scams, human interest stories, scientific breakthroughs. Often these stories have the relatable characters and strong conflict baked into them.

Why a nonfiction story is great: Nonfiction has the emotional advantage of reality on its side. Think of a story that you heard or saw, where someone overcame incredible odds and made it through successfully. At first you think it’s just a cool story. Then you find out it’s actually a true story. Suddenly, it changes your perspective. What was first just a cool story is now amazing because it’s nonfiction. I’ve created countless compliance stories, but it never fails: whenever a nonfiction compliance story is published, the online views spike. It’s juicy because it’s real.

When to use a nonfiction story: When your audience views the content as unimportant or needs to be convinced that there is a problem that must be fixed, share a nonfiction story with them. Show them the problem that’s happening in the workplace. Pair a nonfiction story with statistics and you have a very convincing case for training. For instance, Dayna could share a case study of an employee who actually clicked on a link that introduced a virus to the company’s system, and couple that story with a statistic like this: “Think it couldn’t happen to you? Last year alone, our cybersecurity team handled 50 security breaches. That’s almost one a week!” A nonfiction story can win over skeptics and tantalize the audience with the makings of a good piece of gossip.

The pitfalls of a nonfiction story: Sometimes, it’s tempting to focus on the outcomes of a nonfiction story instead of the story itself. During a Story Design workshop, a participant who designed training for people in the agriculture industry described an incident in which a silo burned to the ground because a certain piece of machinery was left running and became extremely hot. She wanted to include this as a story in her training. Watching a silo burn to the ground definitely packs an emotional punch. But the machinery heating up and burning down the silo is not really the story. It’s the outcome of the story. The story happened just before the silo burst into flames. For training, the real story premise is:

We need to see what Jeff does before the fire. He walks into the silo. He shuts things down. His boss calls him to help on another project. He skips through some of the steps of protocol. He runs out to help his boss. This is the real story. Train them on this. The inferno is important, because it shows the outcome of Jeff’s behavior, but it isn’t the whole story.

Sometimes, nonfiction can be absolutely boring. Think of a sales case study that blandly describes who the client is, what they bought, and how much. But there was emotion involved with that sale—a lot of it. Where did it go? If you’re designing training for sales enablement, work with stakeholders and sales staff to identify that emotional content and put it into the story.

Another example of when a nonfiction story can become drab is when you tell a nonfiction story that happened internally and are required to de-identify it to death. When taken to the extreme, the story can turn almost comical. “An employee at our company received a phishing email. He/she clicked a link that downloaded malware onto his/her computer. He/she reported the incident to his/her manager.” And so forth. After a while, even though it is a nonfiction story, de-identifying takes center stage instead of the action of the story. The emotional impact is lost. If legal refuses to budge, it’s better to design a parallel story that mirrors what happened in reality than to use the nonfiction story. Sometimes, telling the parallel fiction story with the emotional content intact, then following it up with a very brief description of the nonfiction story, can be effective.

How a nonfiction story fits into a story premise: Use the story premise form to identify the relatable character and the action from the action list they are in conflict with, and it turns out looking like this (Figure 7-4).

Fiction

Fiction is a versatile story type. The characters and their actions are based in reality, but the plot is not dictated by an actual event that happened in a certain place at a certain time. Unlike nonfiction, you are also free to set a relatable character in conflict with as many actions from the action list as you wish.

Where to find a fiction story: When interviewing stakeholders and subject matter experts, listen for examples (the E in PRIMED). Examples are different from case studies. Many times they are hypothetical, based in actual events, but just shy of nonfiction. Often these statements are preceded by “if” or “sometimes”:

• “If a sales rep doesn’t know how to respond to that kind of objection, they’re sunk.”

• “If this information isn’t recorded properly, we could be sued.”

• “Sometimes employees get distracted from the process of shutting down the machine, which could have some very negative impacts on the system.”

• “Sometimes customers complain about our reps being too abrupt.”

They may also use phrases like “We’ve seen a trend” or “In the past.” Sometimes their statement is cautionary: “They should never do this or something bad will happen.” Stakeholders or subject matter experts may not have actual stories top of mind when they make statements like this. You should pursue the real stories, but even if they cannot provide them, these are not wasted moments. If SMEs present a hypothetical or cautionary situation, ask them hypothetical questions.

• “If a sales rep were to receive an objection like that, what are some common responses sales reps might use that sink the sale?”

• “Tell me how misrecorded information could turn into a law suit.”

• “How might an employee get distracted from shutting down the machine? What are those negative impacts to the system?”

• “What might a representative of the company say that customers consider abrupt?”

Essentially, by asking questions about their initial statements, you involve the stakeholders and subject matter experts as storytellers. Regardless of whether these stories are actual, hypothetical or cautionary, you are building a strong library of plot lines to choose from.

Why a fiction story is great: Fiction stories in training are rarely completely fictional. They are based in truth but offer more choices. The characters, created from the audience profile, are still moldable. The sequence of events can be shaped in a way that make the most impact on the learner. For instance, I mentioned earlier about designing characters for training a board of directors. They were, for the most part, untouchable. So, I searched for information about them on the Internet. I found out where they lived. I learned about their education, work experience, and political involvement. I read articles and excerpts from books they had written. I even stumbled across hobbies and favorite foods. It didn’t take a long time to compose a short profile of each board member. Characters for the story borrowed from different board member profiles, creating an entirely fictional character with strikingly familiar similarities with the audience. No character was an exact copy of a board member. They were unique but inherently relatable. Fiction made that possible.

The library of plot lines gathered by asking stakeholders and subject matter experts questions, mentioned above, are great for fiction. You can pick and choose from this library to support the strongest story. Fiction gives you this freedom.

When to use a fiction story: Almost any time. Though nonfiction may seem easier because it’s the retelling of an existing story, it’s limited to what actually happened. Once you’ve mastered Story Design principles, creating fiction will become second nature and quick. Fiction puts you, the designer, in control of the characters’ destinies. Fictional stories are fantastic for scenarios and games where learners are given the opportunity to make meaningful choices down a selection of guided pathways. Augmented or virtual reality are perfect for immersive fiction that puts the learner in the middle of the action. Role play provides the setting for a fictional story invented by the players. The uses of a fiction story are limitless. I’ve used fiction stories throughout this book, including Dayna’s. Though Dayna isn’t a real person, she’s a relatable character in conflict with the principles of Story Design.

The pitfalls of a fiction story: During a Story Design class, where most of the participants were librarians, I was asked several times, “So, we’re just making these characters up?” At first, they had a difficult time with the fictional aspect of storytelling (a bit of irony there) for the purpose of communicating with their audience. Several of them felt like they should only use real stories. But once they saw that the fictional characters were based in an audience profile, they created some great characters and powerful stories.

The pitfall for fiction is when it strays from the audience profile and the action list. Creativity loves constraints. Effective fiction stories in training can be wildly imaginative within those constraints. Embrace constraints and design within them. Use the guideposts for creating a relatable character and put them into conflict with an action from the action list. Anything more or less can lead you, and your learners, astray.

How a fiction story fits into a story premise: The story premise for fiction is similar to nonfiction (Figure 7-5).

Metaphor

A metaphor is a representation of something else. For training purposes, a metaphor is something that is familiar to the learner that gives context to something unfamiliar, particularly an abstract concept. This is helpful, since most of the time training is designed to help learners take action on new knowledge, skills, and attitudes. A metaphor can be fiction or nonfiction, but it deserves its own category. It has a unique purpose in training.

Where to find a metaphor: Metaphorical stories are not always easy to find. And they are tricky to design. Stakeholders are the best source for metaphors. And, believe it or not, there is a magic question to ask them if you’re looking for one: “What do you want to say to your audience?” You can expect abstract responses like:

• “Competitive intelligence is powerful.”

• “Stand by our customers.”

• “Engage your team.”

In chapter 4, Dayna asked Randall, “If you could tell employees one thing about this issue, what would it be?” Randall responded, “Use your head! Think before you send an email!” None of these statements, by themselves, are metaphors, but they are the beginnings of potentially powerful ones. When a possible metaphor reveals itself, ask more questions. A conversation with the stakeholder may unfold like this:

Do you see a possible metaphor here? Winning. Play by the rules. Competitors. The stakeholder is providing clues about a sports metaphor. This is a conversation I actually had with a stakeholder, who agreed to let me explore some metaphorical story options in the training.

Why a metaphor is great: Of the knowledge, skills, and attitude trifecta, metaphors have the most impact on attitude. Metaphors help learners step outside of their current reality and provide an alternate perspective on why action needs to be taken. They make abstract ideas more concrete and big ideas more attainable. The sports metaphor I would develop for training on competitive intelligence would help employees experience the benefits and consequences in a football setting, using terminology they already understood so they could apply it to the more abstract idea of competitive intelligence, which they weren’t familiar with.

When to use a metaphor: Since the department wanted their entire company to take action on competitive intelligence best practices, and since this was a new concept for so many of them, metaphor was an appropriate solution. Since sports references kept coming up during the conversation, the story centered around the coach of a losing football team. Suddenly, though, the team starts to win, primarily because of the coach’s ability to predict the opposing team’s next play almost every time. He knows something about the opponent that gives his team a competitive edge. How did the coach get this intelligence? Did he obtain it legally? The leap to apply the concept “competitive intelligence is powerful” to the workplace became much easier. What a company knows about their competitors gives them a competitive edge. But, of course, that intelligence must be gathered legally.

Metaphor can also be used as a motivator. As part of a campaign to encourage employees to take four steps to speak up when they had an ethical concern in the workplace, I worked with a team to create a metaphor that was designed to help employees overcome some common barriers to speaking up: fear of retaliation or not wanting to get a friend in trouble. These were barriers stakeholders knew their audience faced. The metaphorical story we created takes place in the neighborhood of a small town. One of the neighbors starts letting their grass grow longer than the city allows. Then they start leaving trash in their yard. Each neighbor has a reason why they don’t report the issue to the city—the same reasons why people don’t want to report an ethical concern in the workplace—and the junk keeps piling up. It affects the neighborhood’s morale and relationships. The learner observes the consequences of not speaking up in the metaphor and recognizes that something similar could happen in real life if they don’t speak up about ethical concerns at work.

Metaphors are also effective to train on sensitive issues where the learner needs some distance from what’s happening in the workplace—essentially changing the setting from where the audience works to something different. In chapter 1, I mentioned The Coffeeshop, a story that made an incredible impact on a team’s trust and communication skills. A big reason why this training was so successful is that the story was set not in an office, but in a coffeeshop, which gave employees the space and respect they needed to change things in the office. The Coffeeshop is metaphorical in the sense that it gives employees a different view of their own reality.

The pitfalls of a metaphor: Use metaphors selectively and for the purposes listed above. If there isn’t a good case for using a metaphor, go with a fiction or nonfiction story. A metaphor can fall apart if there aren’t enough equivalents to tie the metaphorical story to the real world. Read the sidebar on the importance of equivalents to ensure your metaphorical story avoids this pitfall.

How a metaphor fits into a story premise: Metaphor story premises follow the same guidelines with slight variation (Figure 7-6).

Map the Plot With Core Actions

Once you’ve planted to the story seed in the form of a story premise, begin writing the story by mapping out the plot. After Dayna takes another look at her stories, she decides to rebuild them. She begins with Steve’s fictional story premise:

If you need help jump-starting your own story, begin by answering these four questions to identify the core actions.

1. Where is he in this story?

2. What is he doing?

3. What does he encounter that gives him opportunity to do the action?

4. What does he do that’s in conflict with that action?

Using what you already know about Steve’s character from chapter 5 and the action from chapter 6, Dayna may answer these questions like this:

1. Steve is at his desk.

2. He’s checking email.

3. He says, “Hm, that seems odd,” when he reads a phishing email.

4. He clicks a link in the email, then turns off the computer.

Now she writes these in paragraph form.

The action is clear. This is a good start. You can picture Steve doing the core actions that make this story a story. Using the Show the Action worksheet from chapter 6, you can ask:

• Is the character doing realistic things? Yes, but not in the last phrase. He needs to show that the computer contains a virus. Realizing is not observable.

• Is the action conflict? Yes, the action is conflict, specific to an action from the action list. These are the actions Dayna identified in the Show the Action exercise.

• Is the character motivated to do these actions? No, we don’t see much motivation in the story yet, but she will get to that soon.

From there two things need to be revised. Realizes needs to be shown, rather than told, and we need to see Steve’s motivation for doing these actions. Dayna fixes the first problem:

Now we see the computer freezing and Steve reacting to it. This may not be the best story solution, but now, instead of the internal act of realizing, the action is observable. This is a step in the right direction.

Connect With the Character

The core actions make up the bones of the story. They’re like a Cliff’s Notes version of Romeo and Juliet. You understand what’s happening, but there’s not a strong connection with the characters or their situation. Though a bare bones story may be all you need for certain scenes, to help your audience connect with the characters, consult the motivations you created in chapter 6. As a reminder, here are the motivations Dayna created for Steve (Figure 7-7).

Gleaning at least one motivation from each action, Dayna re-writes the story:

Now Steve seems genuinely motivated to read the email. He notices something odd, clicks the link, and turns off the computer. See how Dayna draws upon some of Steve’s personal information—his love for sports and his son’s birthday—in the character description to give him motivation to do the action in the story.

Refine the Verbs

Let’s work on the verbs in this story. First, notice that all of the verbs, with the exception of “had been thinking,” which refers to an action that has been ongoing, is in present tense.

Dayna’s first story was in past tense (mostly), telling what happened in retrospect. But then it lapses into present tense when “the employee realizes that the email might not be from a friend after all.” Why the tense switch? This is not an uncommon mistake. When writing one part of the story, it sounds right to use the past tense, but in another part, the present tense sounds correct. It’s easy to mix the two tenses. But it’s also easy to fix. It’s OK to use past tense, but consider the two sentences below and honestly gauge your interest level.

• He clicked a link in the email. His computer screen froze.

• He clicks a link in the email. His computer screen freezes.

Both are action-driven. But the first one is action that took place in the past. The second is happening right now. For training stories, you want to use every technique possible to engage as quickly as possible. Setting your stories in present tense helps to immerse the learner in the here and now and get their attention right away. Even case studies can be written in present tense, even though they are an event that has already happened.

Next, think about how some verbs feel more powerful than others. Below is a list of the actions Steve does in the story in the here and now:

• checking

• reads

• clicks

• presses

• turns.

Let’s explore each of these verbs. There may be opportunities to strengthen them.

• Checking is a potential problem. It requires the helping verb is, which is a weaker way of showing the action. In cases such as this one, opt for the more direct version: Steve sits at his desk. He checks his email. Or, to make it even more like Steve may be busy, He scans his inbox.

• Reads is straightforward and appropriate in context. He reads the email aloud. No changes needed.

• Clicks is specific to a mouse click. This shouldn’t be changed.

Think of three synonyms for the last two verbs that could heighten the action and emotional intensity of the scene. What are some possible alternatives? You might swap them out for:

• Presses ESC—bangs, slams, hits

• Turns off the computer—switches, unplugs, yanks the cord out of the wall.

Focusing on the verbs, Dayna makes revisions. Now the story reads:

The ending of the story is a little more intense. Dayna has more opportunities to increase the heat on her character, though.

Escalate the Conflict With Dialogue

Nothing brings immediacy to a scene quicker than hearing characters speak. Steve doesn’t share this scene with anyone, but already Dayna has introduced speech as Steve reads the email aloud. Are there other opportunities for Steve to speak? Reread the story and see if you can identify at least two more opportunities for Steve to speak, then continue reading and compare your answers to Dayna’s.

As you read through the story, it seems more alive. Steve seems more real. We’re getting a closer look at who he is when we hear him speak.

In narrative, like the Steve story, dialogue tags are used to indicate who is speaking. There are three dialogue tags in Dayna’s story:

• He reads it aloud.

• He says.

• Steve groans miserably.

The third tag gives us much more information than just who says it. It tells us how he says it. He groans miserably. How could the other two dialogue tags be altered to show how Steve says the quote? Start with He reads it aloud. How does Steve feel about Brian? We’re not sure from the way it is written. But if it were someone he didn’t care for, he would probably delete the email without opening it. Dayna has some choices.

• He reads it happily out loud.

• He gladly reads it out loud.

• He reads it out loud with gusto.

Nope, nope, and nope. There is a better way to show the emotion Steve is feeling without using adverbs; do it through his actions! Look at the options below:

• He reads it aloud, smiling.

• He laughs as he reads it aloud.

• He chuckles quietly, then reads it aloud.

All three of these options show us the action, but which ones seems most appropriate for Steve? Dayna chooses the last one. She can picture Steve chuckling quietly, then reading the email aloud. What about the other dialogue tag, He says, “Can’t hurt to check it out”? Picture what Steve might be doing at this point to show how he feels. Would you choose one of the options below? Something different?

• He raises his eyebrows.

• He shrugs.

• He sighs.

• He looks away.

Dayna replaces the two dialogue tags. Now her story looks like this:

Her story is shaping up nicely. There’s more action, more emotion. No matter what the format of your story is—narrative or dialogue—look for opportunities to give your characters a voice. Let your audience hear them. Use descriptive dialogue tags to show your audience more of the action and emotion. You’ll see examples of how to develop a dialogue-driven story later in the book. Now that flesh has been added to the core actions, she will take it another step further and ground her story in reality. But let’s take a break from Steve’s story and explore how Dayna might increase immediacy with dialogue in the Jasmine and Andrew story.

Increase Immediacy With Dialogue

One of the best ways to bring your audience into the here-and-now is through dialogue. Dayna questioned how to make the Jasmine story more immediate. Her narrative version looks like this:

Dayna has done a good job of showing a lot of the action. You have probably noticed some ways Dayna could improve her story by showing more of the action, connecting with the character’s motivations, refining the verbs, and replacing dialogue tags. Converting this story to pure dialogue will help with some of these things. First, let’s simplify the task by eliminating the second scene where the client receives the spreadsheet and the scene where the client calls Andrew to let him know. Keep the scene contained to one time and place: Andrew’s desk. If Dayna decides to develop the second and third scenes, she will need to show the action rather than tell about what happened. Take a moment and convert the narrative version into pure dialogue, ending with Jasmine’s last line, “You’ve got this! Easy!”

Andrew
Jasmine
Andrew
Jasmine
Andrew
Jasmine
Andrew
Jasmine
Andrew
Jasmine
Andrew
Jasmine
Andrew
Jasmine
Andrew
Jasmine
Andrew
Jasmine	You’ve got this! Easy!

Was it hard to translate the paragraph form into dialogue? Some lines were probably more difficult than others. Keep in mind, when writing dialogue, the same principle that you’ve learned throughout this book: It’s all about the action. Their words should reveal action and emotion. In Dayna’s script below, you will notice that some of the actions from the paragraph form have made their way into the dialogue through stage directions (unspoken actions and descriptions that are in parentheses). These directions will be helpful for the actors who eventually play these roles in the finished product.

Andrew	(on the headset ) We’ll get that to you right away, Ms. Pritchard! Thanks for calling! Bye! (runs his hand through his hair, turns to Jasmine) I don’t know if I’m ever going to be ready to fly solo.
Jasmine	(smiles) You’ll be ready. You’re great on the phone! I like how you used her name at the end. Great work! (leans back in her chair, unwraps a lollipop, and pops it in her mouth)
Andrew	(takes a breath) I’m okay with the phone stuff. It’s the documentation and things in between each call that are so hard!
Jasmine	Yeah, it’s tough sometimes to fit it all in under four minutes between calls, but you’ll get it. Alright, time’s ticking. What did the last customer need?
Andrew	A spreadsheet with the customer’s billing information for the past six months.
Jasmine	(checks her smartphone) You remember how to pull up the information, right?
Andrew	(navigates with his mouse) Yep, like this?
Jasmine	(glances up) That’s right. And how do you download it as an Excel spreadsheet?
Andrew	(still navigating with mouse) By … (sits upright, tense) oh yeah! Click this button and then … download!
Jasmine	(texting) Like magic! There it is.
Andrew	(staring at the computer) Hold up. There’s more information in here than just the customer’s.
Jasmine	(puts her phone down) Let me see. Oh, you’re right. Good eye, Andrew. Must have been another customer with that same last name and first initial.
Andrew	What’s the procedure for this? Do I need to start over?
Jasmine	Hm … We’re about out of time. There’s a fix for that. (leans forward and takes the mouse) Here, just hide the rows containing the info for the other customer, like this. And then save. It’s ready to go! (let’s Andrew take over)
Andrew	(navigating) OK, and then attach it to the email and send it? Are you sure that’s it?
Jasmine	Yep!
Andrew	Well … (hesitant) Here goes. (clicks) There, it’s on its way! (looks to Jasmine for approval)
Jasmine	See? (points at Andrew with lollipop) You’ve got this! Easy! You’re ready for your next call!

Dayna has pulled from her previous work to further flesh out her characters’ actions and motivations in this version. Jasmine’s value of customer care seems limited to the person-to-person connection she makes with customers on the phone, but she loses interest when it comes to sending paperwork to the customer. Dayna also brings out Jasmine’s love for social media and possibly online shopping, which may be part of the reason she sends the spreadsheet incorrectly. Andrew’s character is also fleshed out more as we see him hesitate before sending the email, then look to Jasmine for approval. The contrast between Jasmine’s laid-back attitude and Andrew’s nervousness is nice too. Most importantly, Dayna has shown us the conflicting action and provided compelling motivations for the characters to take those actions.

The story you are writing for the Well Adjusted clinic opens up many possibilities for demonstrating the conflicting action through interpersonal conflict. Dialogue is great for this. Challenge yourself to write the story as pure dialogue.

Make It Concrete

Dialogue is a great way to make the scene more realistic. There’s another element that can make the story live and breathe for the audience: specificity. Details will help the audience relate even more to the story. To unearth those details, ask yourself:

• What small actions or information can reveal more about the characters?

• What meaningful props can the characters interact with to make the setting more real?

For her cybersecurity scene, Dayna answers the above questions in this way:

• Steve could say more about Bryan that relates to his past. His son’s birthday could be next week. Steve could lunge for the power cord.

• Steve could be drinking coffee. He could slam it down at the end of the story.

It’s a much richer story now. The opening line offers more about who Steve is (he’s a coffee drinker). Bryan has a last name, which feels more credible. Bryan is someone Steve played football with, which strengthens Steve’s motivation to trust the email. Bryan gives us more information about Steve (he’s an engineer) and ends the email with a reference to his former football team. These are plausible details as scammers often consult social media sites to learn more about their targets. The addition of his son’s birthday next week also adds to Steve’s motivation to click the link. Time’s running out to get him a present. Slamming the coffee mug on the desk seems a little over the top, but so do some of the other actions at the end. The next step in building your story can help you tone it down or build it up more gradually.

Eliminate Extraneous Words

Remember, your story is about action. It’s important to avoid embellishing or overwriting your story. All that will do is slow it down, weakening the plot. Adjectives and adverbs are parts of speech that get in the way of the action. Scan the Steve story for adjectives and adverbs. Did you notice these five?

• big gulp

• chuckles quietly

• seems odd

• frantically hits

• groans miserably.

All of these adjectives and adverbs, except for the third (seems odd), can be eliminated.

Dayna has a leaner, action-packed story. The adjectives and adverbs are out of the way. If there are excessive adjectives and adverbs in your story, there are probably weak actions. But when actions are strong, there is little use for lengthy descriptions. Dayna is showing us the action in her story, thus the adjectives and adverbs are not necessary.

Adjectives and adverbs aren’t the only words that could be trimmed. Notice how the italicized words in her story above also seem to be slowing the plot down.

• nothing happens

• finally, in a moment of desperation.

Take out happens and hear how it sounds: “Steve hits ESC. Nothing. He slams his coffee mug.” Nice, right? Cutting that word quickens the pace and moves the plot forward. It feels more urgent now. Next, Finally, in a moment of desperation contains a lot of descriptive words that just aren’t needed. Dayna removes these and revises the ending.

This version of his story allows Dayna’s learners to experience the conflict through observation. It is unhindered by excessive descriptions and allows them to feel what Steve is feeling in the moment.

Let Your Audience Discover the Story Premise

Effective stories convey the story premise through the actions of the characters, and for the most part, Dayna has done a good job with that. Her story premise is “A story about Steve, an engineer, who struggles to protect the company’s information from scammers.” Her first story about Steve started off with, “This is a story about phishing and how to respond to an email containing attachments or links,” which force feeds the audience the story premise and dilutes the learner’s experience to discover it for themselves by observing the action. It leaves no room for the learner to think through what’s going on in the story. Clues that your story may be giving the story premise away are:

• excessive descriptions rather than showing the action

• revealing the thoughts of characters rather than their actions

• describing how characters feel instead of showing it

• stating an action from the action list instead of demonstrating a conflict with it.

Where might Dayna be giving away the story premise?

Look to the last line of the story. Steve groans, “I shouldn’t have clicked that link!” This may seem like a minor point, but remember, the purpose of the story is to build a desire for resolution. Let’s let the learner sit with the conflict a little longer by switching Steve’s last line with one of the options below. Which one creates the strongest desire for resolution?

• Steve groans and puts his head in his hands.

• Steve groans. “What have I done?”

• Steve groans. “That was so stupid.”

• Steve groans. “I can’t believe I fell for that!”

• Steve groans. “Thanks a lot, Bryan.”

Really, any of these options is a stronger choice than “I shouldn’t have clicked that link!” They don’t spell out the instruction. They infer it. Why is this good? Because showing the story premise, rather than telling it, allows the plot to unfold like real life, nuanced and complex. Life is not black and white. By focusing on the action of the story, rather than the telling of it, you mirror life more closely. This becomes even more crucial when there are more characters and more actions.

The Completed Story

If you are writing a longer story for training, you can break it up into scenes. Read Dayna’s final story about Steve and ask yourself these questions:

• Do I know these characters?

• Do I feel for them?

• Can I see the story unfolding in my mind?

• Do I want resolution?

When you share your story with people to review, you should ask those four questions. It’s a great way to gauge whether or not the story is complete. Once you are satisfied with the script, you’ll get to develop the story as a finished product.

With practice, you’ll be able to start writing a good story based on the character descriptions and action list right out of the gate. You consume and tell stories on a daily basis. Trust your gut. These tips will help you refine that story. When you’re stuck, come back to these exercises to get you up and running again. Or make these exercises part of your process. Use the Build the Story worksheet in appendix 1 to keep your story aligned with objectives and formulate the story premise.

PRACTICE STORY DESIGN:

Build the Story

Walk through each step described in this chapter to build your stories for Well Adjusted, the chiropractic clinic, using your character descriptions from chapter 5 and the information you recorded in the Show the Action exercise in chapter 6. These will be a fictional story. Complete each exercise below for Story 1, then come back and complete the steps for Story 2.

Story Premise

Write the story premise for each character and their corresponding action using the story premise formula:

A story about [character name and position] who struggles to [an action from the action list].

Story premise 1	Story premise 2

Map the Plot With Core Actions

Answer the core action questions for each story.

	Story 1	Story 2
Where are they in the story?
What are they doing?
What do they encounter that gives them an opportunity to do the action from the story premise?
What do they do that’s in conflict with that action?

String the core actions together in a short paragraph to start each story.

Story 1	Story 2

Connect With the Character

In the Show the Action table you completed in chapter 6, integrate at least one motivation for the character into the story. Imagine real people having a real interaction with others in the scene. When you read through the story, you should feel like there is a good reason for their behavior. You may not like what the character is doing, but you should be able to relate to them. Don’t worry so much about making them perfect. You have space to refine them. Write your stories below.

Story 1	Story 2

Refine the Verbs

Look back at your stories and look closely at the verbs.

• Are they in present tense? If not, re-write it in present tense.

• Do they need helping verbs? If so, they might be too weak.

• Could they be strengthened by using a synonym?

Rewrite the stories using the three questions above as your guide.

Story 1	Story 2

Escalate the Conflict With Dialogue

Look for opportunities to insert dialogue. You were challenged earlier in the chapter to try making one of the stories purely dialogue. Whether it’s narrative or dialogue, let your characters speak!

Story 1	Story 2

Make It Concrete

Go back to your character descriptions and Show the Action exercise. Are there attributes of your character that could be shown by adding detail?

• What small actions or information can reveal more about the characters?

• What meaningful props can the characters interact with to make the setting more real?

Rewrite the stories using the above questions as your guide.

Story 1	Story 2

Eliminate Extraneous Words

This step sounds easy, but sometimes it’s hard to do. You’ve put a lot of effort into writing the story that includes these descriptive words but go ahead and remove them. If the story seems weaker, it’s probably not because it’s missing the adjectives and adverbs. It’s most likely because the action is too weak to carry the story by itself. You need to strengthen the action. Also look for extraneous words and phrases and remove them or replace them with action.

Rewrite the stories, removing adjectives, adverbs, and extraneous descriptions.

Story 1	Story 2

Let Your Audience Discover the Story Premise

Your stories should be action-packed now. Do another read-through and make sure you’re not giving the story premise away. If not, you’re done! If so, take a moment to rewrite your final version below.

Story 1	Story 2

You may want to present your story to Dr. Kobal—or not, depending on how involved you feel he needs to be in this process. Regardless, read through the scenes one more time and ask yourself, your client, or someone you trust, these questions:

• Do I know these characters?

• Do I feel for them?

• Can I see the story unfolding in my mind?

• Do I want resolution?

If you answer yes to all four questions, you’re ready to produce it! To see another finished story based on this same audience profile and action list, see the completed Instructional Story Design Plan in appendix 3.