There is something universal about storytelling.
Across every culture, every generation, stories are how we make meaning of our lives. Sharing through story is how we teach by showing, not telling. But what makes a story land and what makes someone feel it in their bones is something more nuanced.
You’re not just sharing what happened. It’s how you bring us into the experience.
Let me show you what I mean.
When I sit down to write, I don’t begin with the words.
I begin by placing myself back in the memory, or, if I am imagining it, pretending it’s happening right now.
Either way, I slow down to feel it, and I think of sharing as much detail as possible with my reader.
Because I want you, the reader, to feel as if I’m sitting right across from you—telling you the story in real time.
Shared below is an imaginary story of fiction with you here. And, I’ll warn you, it’s not my normal, but I had fun writing it. I was inspired to write this from an unforgettable news clip I’d seen.
It starts with grounding in a place and time…
It was a chilly Sunday morning in Michigan. Winters are cold here. I sat at the bus stop, pulling my scarf up tightly around my neck and mouth, leaving only my eyes and nose exposed to the wind.
Already, you’re somewhere.
And now—you want to know what happens next, don’t you?
Then, I let you in on what I was feeling…
Sitting there, longer than I had planned, I could feel the cold steel bench through my leggings. Butterflies stirred in my stomach as I stared at my phone, waiting—impatiently—for the bus to arrive.
The numbers on the screen warned me that I might not have left early enough to make it to my friend’s brunch on time.
Oh well, the soother in my mind whispered. It’s okay to be fashionably late.
But then another voice crept in.
Is it?
What if Drew is annoyed?
Oh well, the soother said again. It is what it is. I have zero control now.
Do you see what’s happening here?
You’re no longer watching the story—you’re inside it with me.
Next, I add detail that lets you see and feel the scene…
The bus finally pulled up. I climbed the four steps, which could use a good cleaning, and scanned for a friendly face.
Third row to the left—a woman bundled in a beautiful white faux fur coat made eye contact and smiled.
I slid into the seat beside her, instantly grateful as the heater blew warm air across my frozen cheeks.
“Good afternoon,” she said cheerfully. “Bet you’re glad to be out of that cold wind?”
Before I could answer, the bus lurched forward—throwing me with it.
My knee slammed into the seat in front of me.
“OUCH!” I cried out.
And then—something shifts…
But as I looked to my right, outside the window, I saw what had made the bus come to a screeching halt. This was something that made me cringe far deeper than the bruise forming on my knee.
The bus had stopped just in time to miss hitting a toddler who had flown out of the car in front of us in her car seat.
Absolutely stunned, I couldn’t believe my eyes as I watched the mother run into the street and grab the car seat from the road. The child appeared unharmed—miracle of miracles.
“Oh my God—did you see that?” I said to the woman beside me. a
The horror on her face mirrored the shock I felt, and all she could do was shake her head, side to side, eyes widened in disbelief.
And just like that, everything changes…
My irritation about being late had all but disappeared. Still blown away at what I had just witnessed, I thought to myself, Wow, this is going to be a story to tell Drew.
This is going to require a mimosa . . . and maybe some Advil for my knee.
This is a simple story.
But what makes it engaging isn’t the event.
It’s the experience of it.
What makes a story emotionally engaging?
If you look closely, here’s what’s really happening:
You’re grounded in a specific time and place
You’re invited into my thoughts—not just my actions
You feel the emotional shifts as they happen
You can see the details clearly
There’s a moment of surprise that changes everything
And there’s a small reflection at the end that gives it meaning
This is how connection is built through writing.
Not by telling a perfect story—but by keeping your reader in mind as if that reader is sitting with you while it unfolds.
We have a gentle invitation…
If this kind of writing speaks to you—if you feel that desire to tell your stories in a way that truly connects—
This is exactly the work we do inside the Writer’s Circle.
It’s a space where writers come not just to learn how to write . . .
but to find their voice, their rhythm, and the courage to tell the truth of their lived experience.
If you’re ready to go deeper, we’d love to have you join us.
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