The Other Thing Every Story Needs
I’m gonna leave it all out there tonight, y’all!
I’ve always been a big fan of misheard lyrics, the classic example being the Jimi Hendrix lyric, “Excuse me while I kiss this guy.”
I recently posted an article on “The Two Things Every Story Needs.” It’s about two things that are essential for any story to work for the reader or listener or viewer: characters you can care about and a conflict that matters. Really, that post is just a gentle reminder to keep the main thing the main thing.
I wrote a first draft of that article, then I loaded my dog Lydia into the car and drove to a nearby park to walk in the sunshine before editing the piece. It’s good for me to step away from a draft.
As we drove to the park, the Nathaniel Rateliff song “You Worry Me” played on the radio. I’d never paid close attention to the lyrics, just happily singing along with the chorus, which I understood to say, “I’m gonna leave it all out there tonight, y’all / I’m gonna leave it out there.” Meaning, don’t hold anything back. Give your all.
But the googles tell me that the lyrics are a bit more ambiguous, and the line is actually, “I’m gonna leave it all out there to dry up.” Various interpretations have been offered, and I don’t know what Rateliff himself has to say about it.
All I know is that I returned to my article about what must go into a good story with a different perspective.
I stand by that original piece. Yes, absolutely, the two building blocks essential to a good story are characters you can care about and a conflict that matters. But clearly something more is needed to raise a good story into a great one.
You gotta leave it all out there.
When I was a serious runner, my teammates and I used a similar phrase. We would say, “I left it all on the track.” What we meant was that we did not keep anything in reserve. We didn’t finish the race thinking we could have done more or run faster.
We gave everything we had. We were face down in the grass when the race was over. We left it all out there.
What does that mean for a writer or a storyteller? It’s not as if you can improve your writing by straining. In fact, overworking your writing often leads to bad results.
What I’m trying to describe is something more indefinable, something more akin to magic. To make your story great, you need to pour into it your heart, your clarity, your focus, your best thoughts, your best energy. Your soul.
Now, is that going to be true of every single piece you write and post for others to read? No. Sometimes people write a simple, straightforward piece that relates a thought or experience in an approachable way. Not every piece has to be drenched in soul. Not every piece has to be a work of genius. Sometimes it’s just good to write down your thoughts or experiences and share that bit of work with the world. Great. I encourage it!
I once wrote a piece about the goofy behaviors we saw in TV shows from the 1960s and 70s. It was a fun piece. It didn’t change anyone’s world.
But now and then I require more of myself.
Now and then I want to write something great. Or at least try. If I fail, I want to fail big. If I get it right, I make an impact on people’s lives.
Sometimes I work very hard to imbue my writing with extra soul, extra depth, extra humor or drama or insight that reaches inside my readers. Extra magic.
I think I want more of that. I think I want to create more magic, more soul. I think more magic and soul are needed in my life and in my writing — if I want my stories and my life to be great.
I’m gonna leave it all out there tonight, y’all.
