See a photo of Cindy, her bio, Part 1 of this Q&A, Part 2, and Part 3.

Q&A with Cindy Atlee, Question 4:

Q: Watch this TED Talk and react to what the speaker, Tyler Cowen [pictured], says are the problems with stories.

A: Well, like it or not, we’re all ironically paying attention to Mr. Cowen because he’s cast himself in the role of provocateur (uh oh, another pesky story for him to deal with!). Despite his best intentions, he’s using story to discount story — narrative itself being so deeply ingrained in the human psyche that it’s really just about impossible to escape.

I think most of us who work with story or character in some way all agree that at its most fundamental, story is the frame through which humans make meaning of their lives. So, where I do agree with Mr. Cowen is that we always have to pay attention to other’s attempts to do that for us (whether it’s benign or manipulative, via advertising or our teenage daughter’s version of last night’s events).

Cowen also suggests that stories have an inherent bias, a way of framing circumstance and experience that contains only a portion of what is or might be real. The truth, of course, is that however we get our information, it always comes with a bias — our own, the one others have imposed on it, the spoken and unspoken cultural agreements about what we’ll see and acknowledge and what we won’t.

That means we always need to practice story vigilance; we always need to check in with ourselves for our intuitive reaction to the truth and relevance and authenticity of any story we’re being told. What it doesn’t mean, for me, is that we give up on story (or that we could, even if we decided to try).

Cowen says that life is messier than any story we can tell, more ordinary, smaller in scale and promise than the stories we love to hear and share. I see life as larger and grander than that, our imaginations as wilder and less willing to be so contained. Our daily lives may lack the scale of a heroic myth but not the motivation. For those of us who need purpose to be fulfilled, story contains the metaphor, the symbolism, the poetry we need to feel engaged with the world around us and to understand our part in it.

And while I agree that no one story can hold all of who we are — or all of what’s present in our lives at any given moment — it’s story that best reveals what’s most essential about us, who we could become and what lies within us. The stories we relate to most matter a great deal. They frame our journeys each and every day. So to the 51 percent of Mr. Cowen’s research respondents who say life is a journey, I’m with you. And I’ll bet you have some great stories to tell!

See a photo of Cindy, her bio, Part 1 of this Q&A, and Part 2.

Q&A with Cindy Atlee, Question 3:

Q: The storytelling movement seems to be growing explosively. Why now? What is it about this moment in human history and culture that makes storytelling so resonant with so many people right now?

A: The spiritual side of me says that it’s the dearth of soufulness in western civilization, the emptiness that many people feel on a daily basis, the superficiality that often shapes our experience and connection with others that is drawing so many people to the meaning-making framework of story.

Then, the pragmatic side of me kicks in to observe that we’ve finally figured out that it’s just so much more interesting to tell a story than to share a data point. The cynic in me says that we’re all just kidding ourselves, that story has never gone away and so isn’t even really making a comeback. After all, humans have been sharing stories since the dawn of time; certainly nothing new there.

All of that’s true, I think, and more. Certainly, there’s nothing new about story at all, but its application is always evolving. There’s just so much information coming at us these days, little of it filtered in an especially useful way. That means our own ability to use story as a framework for our experience has never been more relevant.

We also don’t typically receive carefully tended stories any more — handed down through the generations to provide the cultural context and meaning for our lives. That leaves us pretty much on our own these days to construct a narrative that works for us. It also puts a much greater premium on our “narrative intelligence” itself, the ability to see and recognize the story patterns all around us and filter them for ourselves. That could be an actual evolutionary advance in humanity at this time (I have no scientific evidence for this, but it does make for a good story).

See a photo of Cindy, her bio, and Part 1 of this Q&A.

Q&A with Cindy Atlee, Question 2:

Q: You completed Dr. Carol S. Pearson’s postgraduate program in Transformational Leadership, and I know archetypes are the centerpiece of her work. To what extent have you integrated archetypes into your branding work?

A: Yes, you could certainly say that archetypes are the centerpiece of my work as well. After I finished my studies at Georgetown with Dr. Pearson back in 2003, I converted all my core processes to an archetypal framework. I also significantly changed how I thought about branding itself. Before discovering archetypes, I pretty much bought into conventional wisdom about branding (that it was most inherently about figuring out what a target audience wanted and shaping an image in response to that). Now, I use a totally different inside-out approach — I start with an organization’s internal culture, conduct a discovery process to find out what kinds of storylines shape group purpose and passion, and then see how that could align with target audience motivation.

Whenever possible, I use the Kenexa Cultural Insight Survey as a foundational tool in my work. It’s a typological tool Dr. Pearson developed that provides a quantitative snapshot of the storylines that live inside an organization, and shape its beliefs and its behaviors. People are sometimes surprised when I tell them that the presence of storylines can be measured, but they can. The survey includes questions about strengths and values (the same type of strengths and values that the characters in great stories use to accomplish their goals or fulfill their promises). It’s a unique and interesting way to measure group character, capacity and style.

It’s fair to say that my work is actually more about story typing than story telling. I help individuals and organizations discover which character in one of the great mythic stories they relate to most, and how their lives and businesses are shaped by that characters’ inherent story arc — the main quest, the central conflict, and the happy ending. This gives my clients a context for defining a brand identity, and also for understanding what kind of stories they should be telling to live out their brands.

I’m always kind of amazed by how helpful this framework is for my clients, and how well it works in defining what’s really going inside their organizations. It works especially well for people in organizations who are a little intimidated by the idea of actual storytelling. When I first started doing this work, I was surprised to find that a lot of people are pretty uncomfortable about telling stories themselves. Even though most of what they talk about to friends and colleagues turns out to be stories, they can feel really put on the spot when asked to share a story about their organizations. Often, they’re not even sure where to begin. Knowing what their story type is offers a context that can really stimulate their thinking and engagement around story itself.

[Image is from this part of Cindy’s The Storybranding group site.]

I had come across Cindy Atlee and her company, The Storybranding Group, in my curation travels, but her work especially caught my eye when I noticed her Professional Values & Story Index (PVSI), which I wrote about here. A significant mentor for Cindy has been Carol Pearson, who works with archetypes. I heard Dr. Pearson speak some years back. The Q&A will run over the next several days.

Bio: Cindy Atlee has been fascinated with stories and how they shape identity since writing her first (and last!) novel at the age of 13. Instead of becoming a novelist, she channeled a passion for helping others understand and express who they are in the world into a 20+-year career as a strategist, facilitator, and coach. Along the way, she’s been able to combine her extensive executive experience in branding, communications, and planning with innovative training in organizational culture and identity, leadership development, and personality type.

Cindy is currently principal of The Storybranding Group, a brand and culture consulting firm that helps clients define and give voice to what’s best and most distinctive about them — and use the power of story-based communications to create compelling brands, develop inspired leaders, and deeply engage their workforces. Previously, she was senior vice president, branding and organizational culture, at the global public-relations firm Porter Novelli and has held a variety of senior-executive positions at mid-Atlantic advertising agencies and marketing firms.

Cindy’s innovative storybranding process and story-based communications tools have won multiple awards and been used by such organizations as Kashi, NASA, Volunteers of America, and Procter & Gamble. In addition to her consulting and planning work, she is a frequent speaker and workshop leader. She’s currently writing her first book, Discover Your StoryBrand: 12 Story-based Styles to Unleash Your Voice and Let the World Know Who You Really Are.

When she isn’t deeply engaged in her work, you might find Cindy art journaling, playing with her four cats, dreaming up her next creative adventure, or driving her husband crazy with yet another home design project.

Q&A with Cindy Atlee, Question 1:

Q: How did you initially become involved with story/storytelling/ narrative? What attracted you to this field? What do you love about it?

A: Well, I did write my first novel when I was 13 (sadly, it remains unpublished ☺), so story has always been an important part of my life. But it wasn’t until the first of my (several!) mid-life crises that I really integrated story and narrative into my work. After many years in the advertising and communications business, I was pretty conflicted about my path in life — wondering if what I did mattered very much and whether I was really using my gifts in the most meaningful way. Just at that turning point 10 years ago I met Dr. Carol Pearson (www.herowithin.com) , the renowned archetype scholar and best-selling author of books like The Hero and The Outlaw, The Hero and the Outlaw Building Extraordinary Brands Through the Power of Archetypes, and Awakening the Heroes Within.

Dr. Pearson was giving a lecture about spirituality in marketing (a concept I’d given zero thought to before that evening), and it captured my imagination like nothing had in years. During her talk, she shared her system for defining the spirit or essence of a brand — or an organization, or a person — through the lens of 12 universal or archetypal storylines that each captured a different aspect of human meaning and motivation. Dr. Pearson said that by exploring these storylines, you could come to understand the deep and often unconscious essence that lived inside — and shape that insight into an authentic brand identity that offered real meaning to others as well.

That talk led me into a discovery process of my own. I studied for a year with Dr. Pearson at Georgetown University, learning everything I could about how archetypal stories could be used to define personal purpose and organizational culture. I developed “storybranding,” my process for helping individuals and organizations establish identities based on the storylines and characters that captured what was best, most authentic and most distinctive about them.

I also found out very early on that the character of Creator drives the story framework of my own life. When I’m true to that storyline — when I’m helping clients understand and express who they really are in the world — I’m doing my best, most fulfilling work. The Creator story is where my real purpose and power comes from, and really owning that changed my life.

So, what I love most about my work now is seeing those aha moments when a person or a team or an entire organization sees themselves for the first time through the lens of a story; when they get it and own it at a really deep and intuitive place inside themselves that knows they’ve found the truth. It’s interesting to me that we sometimes equate lying with telling a “story.” I’m not sure where that really came from, but to me, nothing has a deeper truth in it than an authentic story expressed by someone who believes deeply in it.

See a photo of David, his bio, Part 1 of this Q&A, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4.

Q&A with David Sidwell, Question 5

Q: What’s your favorite story about a transformation that came about through a story or storytelling act?

A: When I was first hired to be program director at the American West Heritage Center in Wellsville, Utah — a cultural center and living-history museum — the place was in a bad way. It has lost respect from the community, or was simply ignored, and was struggling to stay afloat. As a storyteller and storytelling teacher, seeing how story can influence an organization came naturally to me, and I immediately began studying what stories the Heritage Center was “telling” about itself, even if unintentionally. In practice, then, this was a very important branding issue for the organization. Unfortunately, little effort had gone into branding of any kind, and the stories circulating from the Heritage Center were uneven and unclear at best and very negative at worst.

Most of the images emanating from brochures, posters, and on the internet were of gunfighters and “wild west” folk. However, the largest audience living around the Heritage Center were families with young children. I knew we had to begin telling new stories about ourselves. With my team, we made several goals and several rules to get us where we wanted to go. First, I wanted to be in the media at least once a week with extremely upbeat, positive press written in a quirky, attention-getting style. We invented activities and events and news so we could get into the paper — some of the events we knew would “fail” by not having large attendance, but that didn’t bother me, because the larger goal was to get in the forefront of people’s minds. After only a few months of this, our attendance increased sharply, and we even began to get calls from local businesses who wanted to help sponsor events so they could be associated with us. We heard people begin to say, “You’ve got so much going on out there!’ and so much of their attitudes were now positive instead of negative.

Some of the rules we created were simple. In our photos, we wanted at least one child represented, having a great time. Additionally, if we could get an animal in the photo, and a costumed living-history presenter as well, that was even better. Our brochures and media materials began to be attractive to families, and as we “told our story” across the region, the American West Heritage Center suddenly became a well respected cultural center and living-history museum.

Within four years, our attendance had quadrupled, and ticket revenue suddenly became a significant factor in our budgets. Additionally, with this rise in interest, other products we offered such as building rentals for weddings and meetings and large group meeting opportunities dramatically increased as well.

In my mind, it was all storytelling. We simply told a different story about ourselves, and we told it loudly and clearly so people couldn’t miss it.

See a photo of David, his bio, Part 1 of this Q&A, Part 2, and Part 3.

Q&A with David Sidwell, Question 4

Q: The storytelling movement seems to be growing explosively. Why now? What is it about this moment in human history and culture that makes storytelling so resonant with so many people right now?

A: As an art historian (I teach art history in higher education, among other things), I can see various artistic movements through time as waves coming after another. My views on this subject begin at a literal, historical level. In the 1950s and 60s, a folk movement began that really got going with folk music. Suddenly, folk music — which has always been around and will always be with us –became pop music, too. We began to see singer-storytellers arise, too. In the 1970s, a few folks influenced by the folk-music movement formalized the movement along storytelling lines with the creation of the National Association for the Preservation and Perpetuation of Storytelling. This organization has now become the National Storytelling Network, but back then, a few folks interested in folk stories gathered together and began organizing themselves into a kind of storytelling club of performers.

I don’t know how storytelling jumped from these troubadours into the business world and elsewhere, but I’m glad it did, and I’m glad it is still growing. In fact, I see it in its fledgling stages right now. Only a few books have been published on the subject, and I see many more coming and many being tailored more and more to specific applications. I do not believe it is a fad that will fade away. Even as our culture becomes more and more digital, we are also seeing a great democratizing of our society. Anyone now can post a YouTube video or write a blog or have a voice in one way or another, and I perceive that storytelling is spontaneously arising in our cultural awareness simply because it captures so eloquently and so clearly the communications that are coming from us as individuals. With the world going more and more digital, it is also growing more and more social. Social media is changing our lives just as much as the printing press changed lives hundreds of years ago. I see this social movement parallel to how our ancestors shared stories. Our front porches now are computer and smart phone screens. Our banter has become our tweets and Facebook updates.

There are also some key individuals that have really pushed applied storytelling forward into a more prominent position in our society. Stephen Denning, for instance, is a very successful organizational storytelling proponent who has had a strong voice. His work has influenced and inspired others to continue exploring this path. It is difficult to find a book or article on organization storytelling that does not quote or allude to Denning. Above all, however, is the simple fact that storytelling works, and it works in all the authentic and honest and powerful ways we want things to work. Being image-based sharing, it also has the power to motivate and inspire people on so many different levels. We are probably smart enough now as a society that when things work well, we are able to communicate that success, and we can begin to use these effective tools more and more and in different situations as required.

See a photo of David, his bio, Part 1 of this Q&A, and Part 2.

Q&A with David Sidwell, Question 3

Q: How important is it to you and your work to function within the framework of a particular definition of “story?” (i.e., What is a story?) What definition do you espouse?

A: I’m actually pretty specific when it comes to what a “story” is and what a “telling” is. Storytelling is a performative sharing of an oral narrative through words that evoke images in the minds of the teller and the audience. This “telling” can be formal, such as when a storyteller performs for an audience at a storytelling festival, for instance, or it can be informal such as when friends tell stories to each other over lunch. It is always live, though, and there is ideally a personal connection between the teller and the audience. It can be complete, as when a full, well-made-story is told in a concert setting, or incomplete, as when one might allude to a familiar story through a quotation or situational quip.

We like to call people “storytellers” if they are effective at communicating with images, even if they make videos or movies or video games. When we do, we are actually referring to the live storytellers that bring images to life so effectively on a stage or around a campfire. Charles Dickens, for instance, has a real knack for writing that evokes similar feelings when reading as a good storyteller evokes from an audience during a live performance. He is therefore referred to as a “master storyteller.” “Digital storytelling” is a field wherein, through video, feelings are similarly evoked. In both of these cases, “storytelling” alludes to that primal event in which a teller is orally creating images and narrative in the minds of an audience. I think it is important to realize this allusion and connection so that the event archetype can always be looked to in its purity for inspiration.

See a photo of David, his bio, and Part 1 of this Q&A.

Q&A with David Sidwell, Question 2

Q: How did you initially become involved with story/storytelling/ narrative? What attracted you to this field? What do you love about it?

A: I come to storytelling first as a performer. I’m a professional storyteller, and I actually make a few dozen dollars a year telling stories at conferences, concerts, festivals, and the like. I’ve told stories across the U.S. in New York, several cities in California, Chicago, New Orleans, and many places in between. I enjoy it. In college, one of my professors, also a storyteller, invited me to tell stories to a bunch of Boy Scouts. With no microphone, I was glad I was trained the old way where performers actually had to project! There were about 500 scouts there, all spread out on the grass before me, and I began to tell some stories. I got all caught up in the telling, seeing the images and really getting into the story and the characters, and when I came out of my reverie about 30 minutes later, all of the scouts were crowded around me in a tight bunch, listening to my story with rapt attention. I was hooked!

I’m a theatre guy: playwright, director, producer, auteur. But I’m not an actor. However, I love the stage and I love being in front of people. I’m a popular keynote speaker and I love it. Storytelling fills the gap; I get to be a performer, but I also create my own text, direct myself and am in charge of all aspects of what I do. From a performance perspective, it’s an art form that attracts me deeply.

One thing I really love about storytelling is that it is a sharing of images rather than information. Images have so much power that data will never have. I like to say that when we say we “see” things in a story, we are actually using “see” as a metaphor for using any or all of our seven senses: (1) seeing, (2) hearing, (3) touching, (4) tasting, (5) smelling, (6) seeing dead people, (7) emotions; I’m always surprised at how often the sixth sense is used in storytelling! In my various career paths, I’ve found storytelling to be of central importance in my fine art photography, as a program director of a nonprofit museum, marketing/public relations/branding director, teacher, and now as a nonprofit business consultant. Each of these fields use images as their primary means of influencing and motivating people, and storytelling is both a practical and theoretical foundation from which to work.