So the old “writer vs. storyteller” argument is popping up again at Rachel’s blog. Every time this topic comes up, I’m inspired to write something, and then every time, I decide that I don’t think I really agree with what I’ve written.
I like stories. I like them in movies, in books, in ballads, in art, in little kids playing pretend in their backyards. I have always liked stories. I think that even if there was no such thing as writing, I would be a storyteller. I’d tote my lute from town to town and sing stories about great battles or something. I’m wrired to make stories out of things. Even my journalism is storytelling-based. When I was working as a food critic, I would tell the story of what it was like for me to go to dinner at a particular restaurant. I got the job because my editor liked my narrative style.
Rachel says:
There’s a difference, at least in most cases. Occasionally I run across a book that has a wonderful, compelling, well-written story. But I categorize most of the authors whose books I read as either one or the other. Either as writers or storytellers.
and
A storyteller cares about (and concentrates on) the story. The plot. The whos, whats, wheres, whens, and whys. The twists and turns, the passion, angst, and ecstasy. A good storyteller will grab you so hard and so fast that most readers (though not typically most writers) won’t notice the flaws (anywhere from slight-and-forgivable to glaring-and-unconscionable) in the writing.
Alison Kent says:
Telling the story is who [the storyteller] is. Writing a story is who *I* am. I *hear* my writing. The rhythm of the words as I put them on the page.
I think it’s the dichotomy of the way this argument is set up that disturbs me most. “Storytellers write badly. Writer’s write boring stuff.” Blah blah blah. (To be fair, Rachel does say, “one is no good without the other. Every writer is at least part storyteller, and every storyteller at least part writer.”) But of course that’s not true. Just those that are novelists.
The thing is, I think that all the storytellers who write novels must also be writers. If not, they’d be making movies, or painting pictures, or something else. Conversely, all the writers who write novels must also be storytellers, otherwise, they’d be writing cookbooks, or non-ballad song lyrics, or presidential inauguration speeches. There are just better writers and worse writers, just as there are better storytellers and worse storytellers, better plastic surgeons and worse plastic surgeons, better and worse racehorse jockeys. And when a novelist is a better storyteller than she is a writer, or vice versa, people start up on this dichotmy thing, as if they are more interested in one than the other. I said above that if there was no writing, I’d still be a storyteller, but I don’t live in a world like that. I live in a world where I always knew that writing was a very viable way to get a story out, but where I can tell stories in a variety of ways. I can write novels, or direct films, or make tapestries. But I write novels, because I am as interested in writing as I am in stories. And it’s not from lack of exposure to movies!
But these arguments always digress into bizarre definitions, because if we are going to set up false groups, we much further make a list of what things each group cares about. Like rhythm, which according to both Alison and Rachel, falls within the “writer’s” domain. I think that a good storyteller is as obsessed, if not more obsessed, with rhythm than a writer is. Rhythm is of utmost importance in a story. The rhythm of a scene, of a beat, of a plotline, of a character arc. Comedic timing, suspense, everything is about rhythm. But I digress.
Last spring, I met a woman who’d been working as an editor in the publishing industry for decades, and she called me “a natural storyteller.” That was a great moment. But then, as Holly Lisle says:
Generally when editors and agents refer to you as as storyteller, they mean you aren’t literary.
Which of course brings us to another false dichotomy that gets bandied about a lot: that of genre vs. literary. And I think it’s just about as worthless as the other.;-)
January 21st, 2006 at 11:12 pm
Diana, this is brilliant. Pure brilliance. I always considered myself more a “writer” than storyteller simply because to me, the words are easy, but structuring the story is hard. I can do both (I’d like to think so after all this time and books!) but one simply comes more naturally. I think it’s because I’m not, by my nature, a structured person. And plotting requires structure. So does characterization. If it were up to me, I’d just write and write and discover the characters as I go. Trouble is, then I have to go back and thread in the character traits I discovered as I write. That’s a pain…but then, what part of writing isn’t?
Anyway, I like your argument best–we are both, all of us. I don’t like the implication that writers are better at the words whereas as storytellers are better at, well, everything else. It’s insulting to both and helpful to neither.
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January 21st, 2006 at 11:15 pm
I don’t really get the storyteller vs. writer argument.
IMO, to write a good book, you require both. I don’t understand why one needs to break them up.
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January 22nd, 2006 at 1:55 am
For me, there are many ways of looking at this distinction (storyteller vs. writer). When I’m wearing my editor hat, I look at a manuscript to determine if it’s viable or not. A manuscript that has some technical problems, if it’s a great story, is fixable.
A manuscript that is flawlessly written, but whose story doesn’t move me, let alone grab me, probably isn’t worth the work. Having spent way too many hours working with manuscripts like this, I can tell you they’re almost impossible to fix. You can teach rules, but can you teach something as instinctive as storytelling? It’s like trying to explain a joke to someone who doesn’t have a sense of humor. They have a 50-50 chance of getting it, at best.
Having made that sweeping statement, there are more than a few writers (under this definition) who are really storytellers, but they’ve imprisoned themselves in this cage of rules. So, they follow all the rules, but they lose their story.
Like many readers, I will tolerate mistakes of a technical nature, if I’m wrapped up in the story, although they do cause me some painful twinges. My reader hat doesn’t change my feelings on a technically perfect book that’s just not there as to story.
Clearly, not all storytellers are poor writers. And I really resent seeing good storytellers published without the technical issues having been addressed. It’s not fair to the reader or, maybe most of all, to the author. So, I think maybe that perception that storytellers are poor writers has its origins with publishers and editors at publishing houses. Maddening.
Lots of generalizations, but my point is that I don’t believe that technique should take precedence over storytelling. Optimally, we would have them both, but if I have to choose, I’d plump for storytelling, within reason, every time.
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January 22nd, 2006 at 9:40 am
Such good points!!! Great stuff here, ladies.
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January 22nd, 2006 at 10:30 am
I only differentiate between the two as it applies to me. For example, I cannot tell a verbal story. I cannot tell a joke. I cannot relate an experience without mumbling and bumbling. I am NOT a storyteller. If I wasn’t writing, you’d never get a story out of me ever. *g* The only reason I can tell a story on the page is because I have craft elements to guide me. I can craft a plot, craft characters, etc. And that makes me a writer in my eyes!
From a reading standpoint, I never made the distinction until I heard other readers go on and on about a particular author who TOLD the BEST stories ever. I tried her. I couldn’t read beyond the first few pages of her work because, for example, she’d use three point of views in one sentence and my reader’s mind was flopping all over the place. She may have had a great story to tell, but I couldn’t find it!
Those are the two specific reasons that I see a difference between writing and storytelling. I’ll never argue that the best don’t do both. But I will argue there are storytellers who can’t write, and writers who can’t tell a story because I KNOW I fall into the second category!!
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January 22nd, 2006 at 10:55 am
Just to show how screwed up I am…I CAN tell a good story. I’m a natural oral communicator. I don’t tell jokes because I’m not funny, but I can usually tell one if I heard it told well by someone else. (So long as that person isn’t a professional comedian, if you know what I mean…I’m not that ambitious.)
But transfering that oral tradition into writing is very difficult for me. It’s almost as if I’m using two different skill sets. However, I will say that when I tap into that oral tradition is when my writing flies. Which is why I love dialogue and work so hard at honing that part of my craft.
Alison, I totally know what you mean about reading authors other people rave about but that I can’t get through because technically, they’re a mess. I don’t think non-writer readers notice this half as much as we do, though, and hence their success.
I’ve also read books that were technically perfect (such as it is) but that the author’s choices as a storyteller perplexed me and put me off. I mean, they still told a good story, but it just wasn’t the story I wanted to read! As a writer, I couldn’t understand the characterization and plot choices…it was an odd experience I went through recently on a book I wanted to like, but couldn’t, because ultimately, the characters made choices I disagreed with.
Such is variety! The trouble is, will I pick up that author again? Probably one more time. After that, never again. I’m all for the unexpected, but the illogical? Can’t do it.
My favorite authors are the ones who make me forget I’m a writer. Those writers are both storyteller and writer in equal measure, imo. Those books are treasures.
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January 22nd, 2006 at 10:57 am
I really think it’s a question of medium. An artist like Bernini tells the most fabulous stories through his sculpture. Very phenomenal and moving and epic and “storyish.” I can’t sculpt a bar of soap. That’s not my medium. Some people have several media. Michaelangelo could sculpt AND paint.
So writing is your medium.
What bothers me is this idea of camps, and the strengths and weaknesses involved in both, and the comments trails that have people volunteering for one camp or another, I always say storyteller, adn then I spend the rest of the afternoon kicking myself, becuase it’s not really what I want to say.
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January 22nd, 2006 at 12:36 pm
Hmmm. Having associated with lots of people who are very skilled writers (technical writing of all flavors) I can understand the distinction, here. The ability to write well and clearly doesn’t mean the person has the ability to write fiction. But I think this smacks of black and white thinking, you’re one or the other and can’t be both. Life is full of shades of gray.
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January 22nd, 2006 at 5:31 pm
I don’t think, say, being a writer totally means you are a bad storyteller, but I think there is something in that “words’ vs ‘plot’ thing. Not necessary about doing one of them badly, but about what fascinates you more. I know people who couldn’t care less about the plot–they’d be happy to write one, choosing words with painstaking accuracy, free from the clutches of need for action and resolution, simply painting the characters in the smallest, more exquisite detail possible.
The amusing point is, readers are different, too. Some of them don’t need the story to grab them, they read mainly to enjoy the prose. Others are willing to overlook simplier, blander, or less engaging prose if the story is cool and compelling.
But most have some of the both types. Most writers, too.
Me, learn the craft. I analyze. I study theories, have my own theories, whatever. But I cannot directly apply a technique to my own writing. The analytical brain doesn’t have a straight connection to the creative brain during the moment of creation *grin*. I need to let it ooze into my subconsious, and then allow it to digest, so when my intuition takes over, I have an awareress of those techniques, even though I cannot always formulate how I do it. I’m an organic writer. Not a method one. I have a general guideline, but I won’t know how I’ll do it until I start doing it. Does that make me a storyteller? I’ve never been a method actress either
I cannot “craft” anything — I can just stuff myself with craft-related education and hope my subconsious makes a use of it later 
I also could never be a ghost-writer, because (and I tried), I’m really bad at imitating styles or even changing my own significantly. I have my several voices, all of them pretty similar but with different flavours, and that’s the only I way I can write. Structuring and plotting is more conscious, so I can make up an imitation of someone’s typical plot. But not writing itself. Anyone who’d read the ghost-written book would be able to tell it’s me, not the other guy
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January 22nd, 2006 at 6:27 pm
Oh, I wish I’d read this post earlier. I hate missing out on the discussion.
Based on my own definitions, I consider myself a writer as opposed to a storyteller, because for me, the story itself is very, very difficult to come by. I don’t have dozens of ideas waiting in the wings for their turn to take center stage. I only have a few, and I work really hard and long to develop them. For me, plotting takes much longer than actually writing the novel.
While I’m always excited when I get a new idea, or combine two existing ideas to form something new (to me), I LOVE the process of recording them. I love trying to express exactly what I want to say, what I want someone else to feel. I fiddle with phrases and often replace one word for a synonym for no other reason than that the number of syllables in the synonym sounds better to my mental “ear.” Or because the combination of sounds seems more appropriate.
That’s what I meant by rhythm. The rhythm of the words themselves. I love what Diana wrote about the rhythm of the story:
“The rhythm of a scene, of a beat, of a plotline, of a character arc.”
I love this phrase, because I hadn’t thought of it in that way, which shows what a poor storyteller I really am. Anything I do well in terms of character arcs and plotlines, I do by blind luck. Or maybe instinct. I don’t think about those elements consciously. I wouldn’t even know how to. But I agonize over the words, and I flatter myself that I know how to craft a decent sentence.
It’s clear to me from having read (only) your blog that you write very well. And yet you consider yourself a storyteller. I would venture to guess, Diana, that you’re both (using my own amateurish definitions again) a writer and a storyteller. And I’m very impressed by that.
I understand why some people resent the line I seem to have drawn between writers and storytellers, but I assure you I meant no offense. Rather, I am grateful that there’s room in the field for those with different strengths to prosper, in spite of whatever weaknesses we may have.
And, for the record, I’m working on overcoming my weaknesses. If I ever stop trying to overcome them, I don’t deserve to call myself either a writer or a storyteller.
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January 22nd, 2006 at 9:36 pm
Rachel, I can honestly say that I don’t resent anything you said. I’m loving this discussion, and all the questions it makes me ponder. I’m definitely not saying that there aren’t people with different levels of skill, or people who are more interested in one or the other, but I’m not sure I buy that it’s one OR the other. The comments trails of a lot of these discussion start sounding (to me) as if okay, everyone has a whole pie of talent. Some people are 50-50 writing and storytelling, some people are 80-20, etc. I think we’re talking about two different pies.
Maybe. My heads hurts now.
But I like pondering the options, anyway. It’s like when the old “can you learn to write well, or are you born to it” question comes up. The discussion will never have an answer, and everyone has their own reasoning for their view. It actually doesn’t come up as much in RWA circles as in other writing circles, since the RWA party line seems to be (as far as I can tell) that anyone can learn to do it if they just try hard enough. It’s part of what makes the org. so friendly. (And part of what makes people who don’t like RWA roll their eyes when you invoke its name.)
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January 22nd, 2006 at 10:37 pm
Oh good. I love the discussions on your blog, because you always seem to be able to get so many people to participate.
I love a good discussion. My highschool had no debate team, and I didn’t learn until much later how much I’d missed out on.
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January 23rd, 2006 at 12:14 pm
To the same question–why is that the rejections concerning my plot don’t hurt half as much the rejection criticizing my writing itself? That’s what I’d like to know
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January 23rd, 2006 at 12:42 pm
Just a guess, Daria, but probably because it’s easier to write a new story, new plot, than it is to change your writer’s voice. As a genre writer, you’re doing a new plot every few months.
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January 23rd, 2006 at 1:28 pm
I fiddle with phrases and often replace one word for a synonym for no other reason than that the number of syllables in the synonym sounds better to my mental “ear.” Or because the combination of sounds seems more appropriate.
::nodding head::
How many hardcover copies of Rodale’s Synonym Finder have I gone through? How many hours, yes HOURS, have I spent looking for the ONE FREAKING RIGHT WORD that is the only one that will work?????? It’s hell, pure hell, as a process, but I love the end product!
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