Story Shorts #1: Home is a story
Welcome to the first issue of Story Shorts, a random collection of ideas, inspiration and practical advice I’ve learned as a freelance writer, storyteller and recovering self-help sucker.
This week I will be mostly talking about:
1. Bono and the artificial scarcity of diamonds.
2. Home is a story.
3. I wanted to change the world, but I could not even change my underwear.
Bono and the artificial scarcity of diamonds
I’m pretty sure Bono doesn’t have a Substack page but this quote from his book Surrender does a great job of summing up the challenge of getting your stories, thoughts, ideas, experience and expertise out of your head and onto the page.
“...some arrogance is essential to the creative process. The very idea that your private thoughts or feelings are worth sharing with anyone outside your family or friends is already a kind of arrogance."
But according to Bono:
"Arrogance is the exit and entry point to the humiliation that art requires. Not unrelated is a dubious courage that when you find yourself out of your depth in troubled waters, you will discover how to swim. Another daft but true idea that creativity seems to depend on.”
Now I'm not suggesting Substack posts are art but to put yourself out there and post on this platform requires a certain amount of arrogance, humiliation, courage and creativity. It requires a certain amount of belief in yourself and your ideas and in the fact that the world needs to hear what you have to say.
In his book, Bono tells a story about Nelson Mandela. When he was released from prison and became the first President of South Africa, Mandela wanted to make a big gesture that signalled his commitment to self-determination and a more equitable country for all.
His idea was to nationalise the diamond industry so that the wealth in the ground would belong to the people who stood over the land, instead of the wealthy cartels making gazillions of dollars from South Africa’s natural resources.
Mandela’s adviser Kader Asmal told him: “we do not want to be in charge of the diamonds. We want De Beers doing it. That’s what they do.” Asmal said there were many more diamonds in the ground than most people realised but if South Africa nationalised the diamond trade and flooded the market, the price would plummet.
DeBeers and the other diamond companies had created huge demand for diamonds by controlling the supply. Their sales and marketing strategy depended on convincing their customers of this “artificial scarcity” to keep the prices of diamonds high. Asmal told Mandela:
“The selling of diamonds is the selling of dreams that don’t really exist.”
The lesson Bono learned was how vital myths and mythmakers are and how the right story can turn a lump of worthless carbon in the ground into a priceless treasure. “Diamonds, like countries, are a story we want to believe in,” says Bono.
Home is a story
“A country is composed of its people far more than its landscape,” writes Colum McCann in The Passenger, an anthology of Irish writers. I was born in Ireland but I’ve lived in New Zealand for almost 20 years. I went home to Ireland for Christmas and New Years and while it was great to catch up with family and friends, I was happy getting on the plane to fly back home to New Zealand.
I have made a place in the Land of the Long White Cloud. I’ve raised a family here and this is my home. At the same time, I’m a proud Irishman who still calls Ireland home. Can you call two places home or am I hedging my bets? I’m not sure but one thing I’ve learned as an emigrant is how much time and distance changes your relationship with the place you grew up.
In his essay, McCann — who left Ireland when he was 21 to live in the US — explores the tension that so many emigrants wrestle with. He reflects on the choice he, and so many others make to leave their native land but carry it in their heart forever. He writes:
“Joseph Brodsky says that you can’t go back to the country that doesn’t exist any more…but in a sense we return through our stories and our storytelling, which is a form of memory making. Stories are what we are, what we are made of.”
My memories of growing up in Ireland are still strong but I’m a different person and Ireland is a different country than the one I left behind when I was 30. The experiences I had before I left helped shape the person I became but that decision to leave and the knock on effects of that decision define who I am today.
I’m talking about the big life moments like getting married, having our first child, and watching Ireland beat the All Blacks for the first time (if you’re an Irish rugby fan you know what I’m talking about).
Like a lot of emigrants, I sometimes feel guilty for leaving. I miss my family and friends. I miss the pub, the craic and a perfectly poured pint of Guinness. Sometimes I wonder, ‘what if I’d stayed’, but when I go back I’m reminded of why I left. As McCann so poignantly puts it:
“I am forced to realise that I have been out of Ireland for many years, but, in fact, I have never left. She haunts me. Always has, always will. And maybe that’s what leaving will do to you: it forces you to remain.”
“A lot can be taken away from us, but not our memories and not our stories and not those places that can spark our memories. This is what home means. Home is a story.”
The story is in the song
“I wanted to change the world but I could not even change my underwear.”
Now that’s how you write a hook. The opening line to Queen of Denmark by John Grant got me thinking... what can we learn from songwriters when it comes to telling a good story? Because a good opening line, whether it’s a song, a founder story or your bio needs to do two things.
1. Grab attention.
2. Make people want to find out what happens next.
Imagine if a guitar instructor opened the bio on their website with this line:
"Well, my daddy left home when I was three and didn't leave much to Ma and me, just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze."
I’d be itching to know how things turned out for that kid and I’d pay good money to have him teach me guitar and tell me about how he turned his life around.
Or if a freelance powerline technician (not sure if there is such a thing) came up with this piece of poetry:
"I am a lineman for the county and I drive the main road, searchin' in the sun for another overload."
I’d hire that lineman in a heartbeat. He’s out there searching for work to be done. That’s dedication. That’s a solid work ethic right there.
I’d love to hear your favourite song intros that hook you from the start.
Until next time,
Thanks for reading,
Rob
I find it's the beat that draws me in and its the lyrics that make me stay. Beta Band Dry the Rain is a perfect example of this. Or Pink Floyd.
The smiths and the Jam always had the best opening lyrics...sup up your beer and collect your flags, theres a row going on, down in slough...now that's an opening!
This makes me wonder how many other things are like those diamonds. Plentiful, beautiful, not useful--made valuable by manufactured scarcity.
I loved all of these story shorts. Thank you especially for sharing your story about home.