Marketers, Beware This Storytelling Advice: 3 Misconceptions We're Taught

I smacked my hand down on the hotel bar. The white marble was cool, which was very nice, since I was getting hot.

"A list of steps isn't helpful if you're facing the wrong way!"

I'd been talking with a couple fellow marketing speakers at an event, and we were joking about the industry's obsession with "practical steps" -- and how, whenever the word "practical" arises (like, when speakers are asked to be practical), it's implied that a list of steps will follow. It's as if, to marketers, the lone type of practical information is stepular. (Note that "stepular" is not a word but maybe should be.)

My friends and I agreed there are tons of other ways to impart practical advice. After all, anything practical affects your practice. That's why it's practical. (Aren't words fun?) Practical doesn't mean "I can follow this without turning on my brain."

For instance, big ideas that shift our perspectives help us take ANY step, better. Those big ideas are very practical.

Feeling inspired or confident when we go to work affects our practice in profound ways too. Inspiration and confidence-boosters are very practical.

Knowing WHY things work is even more powerful than knowing a list of WHAT works, kinda like knowing how to navigate with a compass is more powerful than knowing how to follow directions someone drew for you on a map. Knowing WHY things work is very, very practical.

You get it. I'm passionate about this.

And so, motivated by 16 years in marketing -- and a generous pour of bourbon from the hotel bartender -- I smacked my hand on that cold marble and delivered my hot take:

"A list of steps isn't helpful if you're facing the wrong way!"

Smack.

Swig.

Smile.

(Hey, I know a good line when I say it. I wasn't entirely unhappy.)

A list of steps isn't helpful if you're facing the wrong way.

• If you're on the wrong path, you don't need "next steps." You need a pivot. Maybe even a three-quarter pirouette. But definitely don't move forward.

• If you aren't saying anything of value, where you say it (the channel) is irrelevant.

• If you have the wrong strategy (or none at all), the tactics don't yet matter. Should you launch a podcast or a newsletter? I don't know, but I'm pretty sure carpenters don't sit around saying, "Should I use a hammer?" I mean ... what are you trying to build?

If success were about finding and following the right steps, success would be a cinch. But that's not reality.

As a result, more often than we realize, we don't need more stepful prescriptions. (Note that "stepful" is not a word but maybe should be.) Instead, we need more thoughtful approaches. We need the posture, the confidence, the clarity, the vision. We need better ideas, smarter strategies, and a whole heck of a lot more curiosity.

We need to face the right way.

* * *

This brings me to the idea of "story" and how it's typically taught and understood. Typically, we end up facing the wrong way, marching down a path that isn't actually where we need to go. I'd sum up this issue like this:

Most advice about storytelling would have us understand story, when really, we need to understand how to be storytellers.

These are not the same things, and our divergence from the real goal (be storytellers) begins with three common misconceptions. Or if you're a fan of beating a metaphor to death (and hoo-baby, am I ever!), then this is the stuff that causes us to face the wrong direction and head down the wrong paths.

Misconception #1: Stories are special.

Very commonly, the way story is taught or positioned causes us to place it up on a pedestal, like some supernatural power we can deploy to have more impact or see greater results. And look, I get it. I feel a reverence for incredible stories and refreshing creativity. I can stare towards the horizon and fill my lungs with the sweet, sweet air of possibility too. Some stories ARE special.

But then, yanno ... most of them aren't. Most of them should just be regular old communication. But if we see them as special, then inevitably, we start to use them ONLY on special occasions.

• The monthly all-hands meeting.

• The company home page.

• The oft-promoted case study.

• The new podcast trailer.

• The big, important essay.

• The opening moments of a keynote.

That's the problem. This is not how to become a storyteller. This is how to, occasionally, tell a story.

Stories aren't for special occasions. Stories are just for ... occasions. Everywhere. All the time. Tell stories. You'll serve others better and so will be better served.

• When you start to face the path labeled "Stories are special," remember to face a different way. Let's label that path "Story Everywhere."

Misconception #2: Stories are abstract.

Something that is "abstract" is something that is considered separate from you or the things you already know or consider tangible.

That's how we view this notion of "story" too. I get asked all the time on podcast interviews (he writes, understanding just how cringey and self-aggrandizing that may have sounded):

"So Jay, what are the benefits of story? Who should rely on story? How do we measure story?"

What, um ... what the actual hell are we talking about?

To me, that's like asking, "What are the benefits of emotions? Should we use emotions?"

YES! That's just how we communicate. But just as marketers view "emotions" as only these extreme things (nope, they're implied or overtly communicated literally everywhere), marketers view "story" as these abstract things. It's all very much OUT THERE.

EMOTIONS!

STORY!

(Trumpets blare. Drums beat. Analytics go up-and-to-the-right.)

Abstract: existing in thought or as an idea but not having a physical or concrete existence.

The solution to this misconception? Prioritize existence. Let's make this more concrete, shall we?

• You experienced some stuff. Describe it.

• You felt some things while experiencing some stuff. Describe that too.

You have an idea. You ship the idea. It's concrete now. It exists.

Prioritize existence. Forget the abstractions.

The reason we don't do this more often is simple: the internet. (Ever heard of it?) It's both a gift and a curse to our creative causes. Let me explain...

Creative people understand the work in two phases across their lives: before and after we see "the code of the Matrix." In other words, our first attempts at anything are driven by gut feel. We only really sense the whole. It's only later that we start to notice the tiny parts, pieces, techniques, and frameworks that make up the whole -- which then unleashes a whole new level of creativity, as we are in greater control of the craft. It's like Neo from The Matrix movie, before and after he sees the code. When he does see it, he becomes a superhero, doing things others only wish they could do.

The internet has put much more of the "code" of the creative "Matrix" on full "display." (Quotes added because lists of two make me uncomfortable.) We can instantly access knowledge about the tiny parts, pieces, techniques, and frameworks immediately, everywhere, and for free. That level of access is great!

Also?

That level of access is intimidating!

Because we can see or hear others talking about all kinds of techniques and heuristics and philosophies and ups-and-downs to their work, we often get lost in it. Sometimes, it feels productive to consume this stuff. Meanwhile, we haven't produced anything. Other times, it doesn't feel productive; it feels horrifying. We think we MUST understand story structure and open loops and hooks and all these parts and pieces in order to become a worthy storyteller.

Poppycock.

That way of thinking is cock of the poppy.

(Don't be offended. "Poppycock" is from the Dutch word pappekak, meaning "soft dung." Oh, and speaking of words and creatures who poop a lot...)

Imagine if we tried to learn to speak like we try to learn storytelling. Imagine if, as little kids, we were told we had understand how to spell every word we'd say + the grammatical rules + the origins of the words + how to write them in straight lines and beautiful scripts ... all before we could speak them out loud.

We would never utter a word.

But what do we actually do? We just... start... speaking. We hear words, then we mimic them.

You've heard stories. So just... start... telling them.

If and when you get stuck, no problem. You can find a key to that door rather easily thanks to allllll that easily accessible information. But you don't need it to start or even elevate your work! You can simply start, learn, and keep going. All that advice should serve YOU, but way too often, it feels like we're trying to serve it. Don't try to find clarity to justify creating. Create to find clarity.

It's in the practice itself that we find our confidence, our personal techniques, our unique styles, and more. It's in the practice that we find ourselves. In waiting to practice until we learn the abstractions, we just end up removing ourselves. We arrive to the work full of everyone else's ideas for what we “have to do,” rather than listening to intuition.

If you want to feel confident or find clarity, just start making things. Tell stories. Then do it again. And again. And again.

The best way to find a groove is to start grooving.

• When you start to face the path labeled "Stories are abstract," remember to face a different way. Let's label that path "Ship Stories Sooner."

Misconception #3: Stories must be massive.

I can't stand that word: massive. I hear it all the time from a very specific type of professional who often follows the Gary Vaynerpump rules. This will be a MASSIVE shift; we're MASSIVELY successful; this person is MASSIVELY overpromising things. (Oops, that last one is what I think when encountering people who say "massive" in their marketing.)

Business storytelling mostly centers on bigness: famous names, huge brands, lofty numbers, and stories solely focused on society-shaking repercussions of life-altering innovations. It must be massive, or it's not worthy of sharing. Or so the thinking goes.

(It's here I'm reminded of a certain Dutch word...)

But that's the thing about effective storytellers: They can grip us and move us through stories of any size. They don't need massive moments. They can take tiny moments of their day, little observations, and small questions or feelings of tension, and help us see just how much it all matters. Suddenly, we're inspired to reflect and act, all because they talked about ... what? A leaf they found. Two people they saw interact on the subway. A moment with friends at the bar.

Storytellers understand that speaking and writing with greater impact isn't about the action of the story. It's about the story's meaning.

We're surrounded by small moments with big meaning all the time, and so effective storytellers have an unfair advantage over other communicators. (Some might call it massive, though I would never.)

• When you start to face the path labeled "Stories must be massive," remember to face a different way. Let's label that path "Stories Must Be Meaningful."

* * *

I hope this essay feels practical to you. I hope I've affected your practice. Above all, I hope you'll take a moment to reflect on three questions:

1. What if stories aren't for special occasions – they're for everywhere we show up?

2. What if telling great stories doesn't require us to learn about story in any abstract way – but instead, to ship stories sooner, in ways that just feel right to us?

3. What if we could create an endless pipeline of powerful stories – not by focusing on anything massive, but by finding big meaning in small moments?

Maybe this is how we resonate deeper, serve others better, and grow our businesses in ways that make us proud.

Don't market more. Matter more.

Don't learn story. Be a storyteller.