Telling my first story in the back room of The Dog’s Bollox, July 2013. Photo by Jill Howe.
In 2013, I received a life-changing invitation:
“Hi, my name is Jill Howe and I produce a storytelling show in Chicago called Story Sessions. I’d love to talk to you about doing a reading with us at some point and just learn what you do as it looks like your work is very interesting …”
Jill and I had never met but she found me online through one of my writing workshops. I’d been to a few storytelling shows, but had no desire tell one. I thanked her for thinking of me but told her I didn’t do that kind of thing. I was a behind-the-curtain creative rather than an under-the-lights one. At this, she could have begged off. But she pushed forward.
“I think you could do it,” she said.
Her confidence was contagious. After we hung up, I found myself considering it.
Some weeks later, I was under the lights - armpits perspiring and knees knocking - in the back room of Chicago bar telling a story to an overflow crowd. All because a savvy storytelling producer stung me with possibility. Since then, I’ve told stories in bars, breweries, barns and bookstores, large auditoriums, tiny cafes, synagogues, churches, theatre lobbies, art museums, dance studios and Chicago’s City Winery.
Yet telling stories wasn’t the only thing that conversation set into motion.
Jill invited me to her monthly writing circle. Her welcoming energy allowed me to trust the idea of walking into a house where I didn’t know a soul. In minutes, I could see how well this former high school English teacher held space and could allow for a safe and productive conversation about writing craft.
In the 13 years that I’ve been attending and periodically hosting these gatherings, which we continued to do even through the pandemic, members have published essays, books, poems, solo shows, literary magazines and a publishing company. The story that would become my memoir, Seven Springs, was first shared in those circles. I launched two literary publications and a storytelling show of my own. My husband also joined the circle and became a thoughtful provider of feedback, a better writer and a sought-after teller. Very swiftly Jill – along with a few others in the group - became cherished friends.
This summer, I told my twenty-fifth story on stage. My armpits still perspire but my knees don’t knock anymore. I’m comfortable up there. Telling stories has strengthened my public speaking, teaching and coaching skills. Because writing is a solitary endeavor, it’s a welcome change to soak up the energy from a live performance. To be around people lost in listening. To hear the sound of a human voice telling a story. To know you are being heard.
Jill continues to spin a variety of community circles. She produces storytelling shows and open mics, hosting them in unusual locales for one-of-a-kind experiences. She teaches storytelling, coaches executive function skills and tells stories all around Chicago. The writing circle she created still meets every month, entering its fourteenth year.
Those of us who are pulled into her vortex consider ourselves lucky. That yes supercharges our creative juices and professional paths. A reminder that creating may be a singular activity but we are social creatures who live in the plural.
Jill Howe
Photographs by Jill Howe & Ellen Blum Barish
Related Links
Open Mic: https://jillhowe.com/shows/
Catch Jill’s next storytelling show on November 7th: https://www.facebook.com/events/1140756075292811/
Mind Sprout: www.mindsproutchicago.com
Wordy friends in my backyard.
