Megan Taylor

front-end dev, volunteacher, news & data junkie, bibliophile, Flyers fan, sci-fi geek and kitteh servant

I am not a storyteller

I am not a communicator by nature. At least, not on a one-to-many level. Excepting a close circle of people I’ve known for 6 years (or more) I tend to keep myself to myself, opening up on rare occasions to someone new. When I try to recount a story to my friends, there is a lot of backtracking and explaining, because I know what happened and I’m too busy reliving it to tell the story.

Then why am I a journalist? Why do I think I can tell stories for a living?

I’m a good listener. I may not open-up, (and thus jeopardize my networking skills) but I watch and I listen and I understand people.

I know the shifty, nervous, over-enthusiastic look of someone who knows a secret. And the sound of a story that isn’t sure it’s worth being told. The sparkle and jingle of the perfect quote.

I’m also a good writer. Writing slows me down so that I can tell the story well the first time. I may stumble over my own tongue, but my fingers on the keyboard are agile.

But can I show the story, instead of telling it?

I don’t know. I’m afraid that I’ll graduate, able to do all kinds of nifty things with technology, and not be able to communicate the story.

Learning HTML, CSS, audio editing, Photoshop, Flash, etc., is fun and exciting and necessary. BUT, it’s also useless if I can’t tell a story to begin with.

What if, in the desperate and fearful dash toward technology, the story gets left behind?

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