Storytelling by Barry Hoffman

I’ve always been a natural storyteller but I didn’t start writing short fiction until I became a teacher. As a counselor at an overnight summer camp I would spin tales to eleven and twelve year olds before they went to bed. The more terrifying the better. If the kids were scared they were less likely to bother other campers who were trying to fall asleep. During my three years as a counselor there was always a story of a dangerous animal that escaped from a traveling circus or zoo that was intent on feasting on campers. So, I guess that’s where my storytelling started.

When I became a teacher I tried to make my spelling tests more interesting by telling stories based on the twenty spelling words of the week. I never planned out the stories beforehand. And, my stories were populated with as many kids in my class as possible. Sometimes I would ask the class for an idea to start my story but just as often I’d look at the first word and just begin. As I got towards the end of the spelling list I’d wrap up the story. What I remember most is that often when I was finished telling the story a number of students would raise their hands and ask me to repeat one or two words from their spelling list. They had become so engrossed in the story that they forgot what spelling word they were to put on their paper.

While I never stopped telling oral stories (there were always spelling tests) one of my students “forced” me to write a story for my class. I remember her vividly (after forty years). Her name was Marjorie and she had dark long hair that she was forever brushing. She was also the class beautician. She would brush other girl’s hair, giving each girl a new identity with each new hairdo (she would now be called master of the “makeover”). She was a compulsive brusher. She would brush her hair for a few minutes and I would tell her to put her brush away. She would comply but ten minutes later her brush was back in her hand. She wasn’t being defiant. She was just being . . . well, just being Marjorie. I eventually tired of having to stop my lesson to tell her to put her brush away. “Brush your hair again,” I told her, “and I’ll write a story about you.”

“No you won’t,” she answered, and reluctantly put her brush away . . . for another ten minutes. The one thing you don’t tell a writer is “No you won’t.” Sure enough, she took out her brush again. I said nothing but that night I began my first short story called “Lice.” It centered around a girl (named Marjorie!!!) who always brushed her hair in class. This fictional Marjorie had a younger brother who Marjorie wasn’t too fond of. They constantly got one another into trouble. Marjorie often got the best of her brother and he swore revenge. Knowing how much she loved her curly locks one night he put lice in her hair. The lice burrowed into Marjorie’s scalp into her brain and Marjorie woke up screaming. She had gone crazy. Revenge was sweet.

I made copies of the story and had the class read it, not telling them it was about (or inspired by) one of their classmates. But, when they saw Marjorie’s name and her favorite pastime they knew who it was about. Marjorie knew this was my response to her challenge. I’m happy to say Marjorie was thrilled to be the center of attention. She loved the story (even the gruesome ending for her character). Sad to say it didn’t stop her from brushing her hair, but my writing career had begun.

And even now that I have retired from teaching I still go into classes to discuss my YA Shamra Chronicles series and tell oral stories. After students have read the first book in my trilogy, Curse of the Shamra, I’ll ask the class to give me the first line in what could be a continuation of the novel and spin a story for them, then challenge them to do the same (either an oral story or a written one). I never get tired of storytelling.

Visit Barry's website: The Shamra Chronicles.