You possess a confident, enthralling voice on paper, birthing entire worlds within the minds of your readers – but almost all the promotional advice (including from our very Society) says you’ll have a hard time being a successful children’s/YA author unless you can enthral them in person. School visits. BookTok. Event panels. Your writing ability can’t help you there. 

Sadly, increasingly fewer young people today are just walking into bookshops and libraries on a quest to see which cover and first paragraph captures their imagination. They need to be introduced to a book through human connection, be that an enthusiastic friend, teacher… or visiting author. And although the best writing arguably has human connection at its heart, storytelling is human connection. 

Writing’s huge advantage is the time you have to plan and edit before your work meets an audience. But storytelling? That begins with meeting. True original storytelling can’t even be rehearsed. It’s the only artform that is intrinsically dialogic: you literally cannot tell a story orally without a recipient. The audience is your parchment, editor, and instant critic. 

Many writers (myself included) believe themselves introverts, preferring to refine their words before releasing them into the wild. And knowing that I’m a professional oral storyteller, you could be forgiven for catching my parentheses there with a sceptical, “Oh yeah?”  

But before I explain how even the shyest author can become an oral storyteller with ease, here’s the proof that this works – and that it matters. 

I’d been storytelling for nine years before I became a published author, and also nine years before the school down my road discovered and booked me for the first time. I shared stories for an afterschool ‘pyjama party’ – two hours of traditional folktales. 

Because the school was so close, I walked back after the weekend to collect my cheque. While one receptionist went to find the bursar, the other one said, “You’re the storyteller from last Friday?” 

I nodded. “That’s me.” 

Excitedly, she said, “I have to tell you: that night, my son got home, and for the first time ever, made his own choice to put on his reading glasses and read a book. So thank you, you really inspired him.” 

As I walked away, two thoughts came to me very quickly. First, that mother’s feedback had been worth way more than the cheque. 

And second… I’d prompted a kid to autonomously start reading for pleasure? How?! 

Oral storytelling doesn’t involve books. I’d told my stories without a book in sight. My own first published book was still a couple of months from launching, and at no point had I dared ruin the party vibe by going all didactic about the importance of reading. 

So how had I inspired a reluctant reader to go home and enjoy his first foray into reading recreationally? 

Having thought about this a lot in the years since, I’ve come to recognise that you don’t need to read a book aloud to inspire a child to read. You don’t even need to “do all the voices”. All it takes is to tell them the story. 

That emphasis was intentional. It’s not about the act you’re doing, nor even is it really about the story. You make it about them. 

A performer knows they’ve done a good job when they receive rapturous applause at the end. Such indicates that the audience connected with the performer. A storyteller knows they’ve done a good job because the audience kept interrupting with questions, or began finishing the teller’s sentences, or even grabbed an imaginary prop and stood up to test it out. Such indicates that the audience connected with the story. 

For me, this was best summed up by a Primary Times Children’s Choice review of a storytelling show I took to the Edinburgh Fringe in 2018: “It felt more like a conversation than a performance.” 

So if you’re new to this, anxious about it, or just looking to improve your school visits, that’s the key thing to remember: this is not a performance. The reason I don’t come across as introverted when I’m storytelling is because I’m not bothered about getting attention – I’m giving it. 

Here, then, are the top three tips I offer all new storytellers. 

1. Meet your listeners 

Start with a discussion about the stories they enjoy. Let their answers come from any medium – they will help you identify the parts of your story likely to resonate with them. 

Sometimes, connections to your story will be obvious, such as when they mention a story from your genre. But every story, from videogame spinoffs to sports biographies, involve characters facing challenges and feeling emotions along the way. 

“Who likes it when your heroes work out how they’re going to win? Who likes it more when the characters are struggling? Both those things happen in my story too…” 

Questions like these allow your listeners to be heard and valued, while giving you valuable insights into how best to pitch your story for them… 

2. Tell for them 

When editing your work, you have to imagine the reader’s response. Here, they’re in front of you. If you decide to read or recite your work, keep an eye on how they’re responding. 

Spot a confused look? Don’t pause to explain, but do look that listener in the eye and repeat the phrase in a way they’re more likely to understand – e.g. “He was obstinate – whenever he decided to do something, no-one else could change his mind.” 

This isn’t just about language. Why not big up the tension in your narrative for listeners who said they like action and adventure stories? Or let your characters daydream a little more for listeners who preferred fantasy? 

This also goes beyond your choice of words. Spot a fidget? Pass them an imaginary prop to inspect. That listener who said their favourite thing about books was the pictures? Ask them to illustrate your story while you tell it. Need a character to sound different? Ask your audience to help you pick the right voice for them. 

By inviting them to help craft your tale, you’re enabling them to discover the inherent joy of exercising their imagination, the surest way to heighten their hunger for more opportunities to do so – such as returning to the world of your books… 

Of course, all this is easier to do if you don’t read or recite. Why not let the words come to you in the moment for the listeners in front of you? You can be confident about doing this; you know your story. I’m sure you’ll find pleasure in the fresh life this brings to your story with every new audience. 

3. Check they’re with you 

Finally, as you go along, throw out the odd question or comment to check that they’re engaging. But note: this is not a comprehension exercise – it’s an enjoyment one. Instead of asking, “Why do you think Elsie did that?”, ask, “Can you believe Elsie did that?!” 

You can combine this with the previous tips. For example, that listener who said they like videogame spinoffs? Ask what they would do in the character’s situation. That listener who said they like sports biographies? Ask them if they know a sportsperson who’s felt like your hero right now. And then there are the two most powerful questions in the storyteller’s arsenal: 

“What do you think’s going to happen? Shall we find out?” 

What if some listeners turn to chat with friends during your story? Should you ask them to ‘shh’? 

From my two decades of experience, I can assure you: 99 time out of 10 – and no, that’s not a typo – those listeners will be reacting to your story. That’s the strongest sign they’re engaging – so why would you silence that? Trust me, and them, and yourself, by simply continuing your story. They’ll be keeping an ear out to make sure they don’t miss anything, promise. 

I hope this encourages you to go out, meet your potential readers, and share stories with them. If you do, I’m sure you’ll soon agree: the only thing more satisfying than causing entire worlds to be born within the minds others is being there to watch it happen.