The Story Behind the Story
At the tail end of last month, I released my first children’s book, Little Red Robin Hood. It was a little tight, trying to release it on Tuesday, 2/22/22, but it pushed through without a hitch. The illustrations came out amazing, the formatting went faster than expected, and, well, it was just an overall great experience.
As fun as the book itself is, the events that led up to this story held great significance for my writing career.
Allow me to take us back to 2015~~
I was fresh out of college, working in an after-school program at my old elementary/jr. high school. To help the kids get to know me, I’d shared my interests with them: story writing, movie making, video games, and causing mass destruction with Lego battle tops.
One day, during afternoon recess, one of the kids randomly asked me to tell them a story. Not wanting to go too overboard, I recited a couple of Aesop’s fables (don’t quite remember which ones anymore). Apparently, they were enough for a small group of first graders to gather around and listen. After finishing the last one, they begged me to tell another one.
“Okay, guys. Which one do you want to hear?”
Two children piped up at the same time.
“Tell Little Red Riding Hood!”
“Tell Robin Hood!”
I paused a moment. “Hmm…Riding Hood, Robin Hood; okay, how about this.”
And right there, I improvised a story combining the two classic tales. Every bit of it came off the top of my head, but the kids were enthralled.
This became the start of a regular recess occurrence: Story Time with Mr. Tim.
Almost every recess for the next few years, a growing group of students would congregate and listen to the latest tale. Sometimes, I’d share a story I’d been working on for years. Other times, I’d improvise a story on the spot. If you’ve read my first novel, Fable’s Folklore: The Book of Origins, you know that I like to end chapters on minor and major cliffhangers, leaving you with that sense of, “Oh NO! I HAVE to find out what happens next!” Much to my students’ chagrin, I ended most of my story sessions in the same way.
Admittedly, it got to a point where my supervisor asked me not to have the students gather around like that, so I could focus on watching the entire playground instead of just one group. The kids and I were bummed, initially, but I did find a loophole: print copies of the latest story part and let the kids pass them around. They got their story fix, and I didn’t have admin breathing down my neck.
I gleaned so much from those story sessions. Ideas that I thought I had to shelf were given new life and shared with people willing to listen. Most of these stories weren’t fully fleshed out, but having a dedicated audience forced me to make decisions and finalize details. Now, those stories are waiting in the wings, closer to being realized than they ever were before.
The kids were also a great source of feedback. Yes, there were many times where I blew their minds with crazy plot twists, but some of them would come up to me afterwards and gave their honest input.
“Mr. Tim, that one wasn’t as good as some of your other stories.”
“Okay, what do you think would make it better?”
“Well, you could try…”
These were good teaching moments, not just for me, but also for them. Pointing out someone’s flaws without providing possible solutions is just complaining, no matter how politely you say it. Not only did I learn how to take less-than-favorable feedback, the kids learned how to give proper constructive criticism.
Some stories received repeat requests, such as Little Red Robin Hood. Each time I retold it, I fine-tuned some bits to make it work a little better (there was so much more kung-fu involved in the original). Of course, some of the original first graders (second or third grade by now) noticed the constant revisions. This led to the infamous, “Mr. Tim, could you just write this one down already? You keep changing details!” At least now I can say I followed through on that. Can’t change anything now!
Overall, I became a much better storyteller because of that first group of first graders. Sometimes, I wonder if I can put my gratitude for them into words. So, instead, I’ll just share this screenshot…where I somehow did put it into words.
This is what keeps me going. This is what pushes me through the writer’s block and the self-doubt.
Next year, the original group of first graders will graduate middle school. Without them, I would never have gotten to this point. Without them, my simple hobby would never have reached so many people. Without them, I wouldn’t be able to go to a new group of first graders and say, “Let me tell you the story of Little Red Robin Hood.”
Thanks, guys. I am forever grateful.