The Evolution of Writing Dad.
Part 2 – The Rise of Talking Dad
I don’t know who’s in charge for the beginning of our bedtime storytelling. Yeah, I’m always telling it was my noble and visionary initiative. But to tell the truth, it was like, “Daddy tell me a tale!” or “Honey, what if you put this young gentleman to bed’. Whatever, it ended up with a bedtime story. I have tried to remember some, failed, and ask auditory for help. Auditory yawned, grab my hand, and confidently said, “Tell me about Mikey Mouse.”
Well… The ghost of mister Walt Disney visit me later that night, and he was furious about my story, in which his beloved mouse was Jedi, crushing Godzilla with the lightsaber. But suddenly, he stopped frightening me, rubbed his ghostly forehead, said “He-he…” and vanished into thin air.
A year later, Disney bought Lucasfilm. I feel guilty about it.
But there was a different kind of fallout from this story, immediate and catastrophic – “Daddy, tell me another one story, please- please- please!”. If you ever put your kid in the bed, you know what I mean.
That was the beginning of everyday bedtime story. It was strange tales. I was not the one who told the story; instead, WE told stories to each other. We mixed up Mikey Mouse, Ninja Turtles, Spider, and neighbor puppet Zhuzha with Jedis, Doctor Who, orks, Black holes, starships, and Cylons. That was great fun for my son and me.
What I have learned from that period, that bedtime stories are not about telling. It’s about talking and listening. Let your kid interrupt you, let him and his characters join the story, make him a co-author. Bedtime storytelling is fun.
Remember, I promise to tell you how to make a boring story? Well, just make it morality. Believe me, when you telling the story and doing this honestly, you share your real-life experience. Even if you tell a story about Mikey Mouse VS Godzilla, nobody can do that like you.
Next time I will tell about why it is good to study well (even if you are a 35-year-old lawyer and studying storytelling).