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I am driven by two main philosophies: know more about the world today than I did yesterday. And along the way, lessen the suffering of others. You'd be surprised how far that gets you.
Neil deGrasse Tyson
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Oct. 20 Webinar:
Mystery, Surprise, and the Promise of a Good Story
register & more info
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Thanks to great reviews for the session I presented at the 2014 NAI conference in Denver, I've been invited to present the session as a webinar through NAI on October 20 (next Tuesday). This is my first foray into webinar presentations, and I hope you'll join me.
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Articles, essays, tips, & techniques
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Coming
soon! 
Creating Stories that Make a Difference:
Advice & Guidance for Interpretive Writing and Writers
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Grand Finish:
Why STOP is not THE END
I'm staring out the window of a small condo in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, admiring the lilting fall colors trilling across the hillside to the west. You can't tell from here, but I'm actually looking down on the treetops of the Yampa River Botanic Park. I've been to  Steamboat before--it's about a half-day's drive from my home in Fort Collins--but this is the first time I've been here when the botanic park is open.
Officially, I'm here on vacation. Unofficially, work doesn't stop just because I say I'm on vacation. I still write almost every day; I read books, blogs, periodicals, and background material for clients and projects; I stay in touch via email and the occasional phone call. But, as my husband (who is also here, also working) likes to point out, it's nice to work with a different view once in a while.
Before heading out for this bit of respite, I finished the latest round of changes for the book on interpretive writing that I've been working on for what feels like forever. It's in final design stages now, later than the designer and I had hoped, and despite all our hopes, it won't be ready for release by the time the NAI conference rolls around in--good grief, can it really be only four weeks from now?
Even though I've reached "the end" on the manuscript, it's not a "stop." It's the beginning of the next phase, shepherding design, setting up indexing, overseeing printing and e-book conversion, deciding whether to mount a fundraising campaign through Pubslush, Kickstarter, or one of the other crowdsourcing sites that help small businesses like mine bring new works into the world.
In another week or two, the season will shrug its shoulders and the  trees will let go their leaves. Snow will fill the slopes and valleys, and skiers and other winter sports enthusiasts will fill the town. For them, it's the beginning of a great new season; for others, it's the end of warmth and time to head south, or at least to lower altitudes.
And all of this has me thinking about the emphasis we put on how important beginnings are--and they are--and how sometimes, we forget that endings are just as important.
The end of one season is not a stop; it's a transition from one point  to another, the tail-end of one story that hints at the beginning of the next.
I was reminded of this when I explored "Traveling the Silk Road,"* an exhibit organized by the American Museum of Natural History, New York that toured the Denver Museum of Nature and Science last winter.
Overall, the exhibit was wonderful. The beginning drew me in, engaged me with all that we've come to expect from superior museum exhibits: immersive aspects, museum theatre (actor-interpreters in a variety of roles), interesting artifacts, good story flow that carried strong interpretive themes and dramatic stories through almost all of the exhibit.
I almost agree with DMNS's press release:
The exhibition guides visitors on a 5,700-mile journey across blazing deserts and snowy mountain passes as they explore five cities that flourished at the time: Xi'an, ancient capital of China; Turfan, a fertile oasis; Samarkand, a grand city of commerce; Baghdad, the scholarly center of the Islamic world; and Constantinople, eastern capital of the Roman Empire.
Why almost?
Because when I got to Constantinople, it wasn't "the end"; it was a STOP.
There's a difference.
The last thing the visitor encounters before Constantinople is a wall mural of the sea, along a narrow bit of hallway. I liked this--it gave a sense of what this dangerous, exciting, and long stretch of the journey was like.
But the hallway popped me out into a very small rectangle, with an image of the Hagia Sophia on a large panel with a bit of text filling one wall, a couple of small wall-mounted vitrines with small artifacts and labels on another wall (I almost missed them), and the exit to the temporary exhibit-specific gift shop.
I'm pretty sure there was more to Constantinople than this. I'm pretty sure that people traveled the Silk Road in both directions, so in a way, Constantinople was also a beginning, not just an end.
And I'm absolutely certain that there should have been something more--more interesting, more extensive, more inspiring, more intriguing--than this small rectangle that fell flat.
I understand it, really I do. By the time I'm nearing the end of a project, I'm tired. I've been through so many meetings, dealt with so many opinions and ideas and rewrites and not-in-the-budgets and let's-try-this-no-thats, that I just want to be done. Put the last period in place and be DONE WITH IT.
But that doesn't serve the story. It doesn't serve our visitors or our readers.
We can't just STOP; we have to END the story.
Sometimes, by the time we get to where we think the end should be, we've run out of steam. We get stuck, or we write past where we need to be. Or we aren't sure what to do to make sure we're done, so we repeat the theme, or we think, "Oh, I need to say, In conclusion...," or that the call to action (Sign up for membership today!) is the end. We "tell them what we told them" instead of figuring out an ending that is more creative and memorable than simple summation. Or, as in the Silk Road exhibit, we plop up a pretty picture and a couple of last-minute objects and call it a day.
Endings are more important than that. They are at least as important as beginnings.
Arthur Plotnik, author of Spunk and Bite, says, "Endings are last impressions. They are closing numbers, final chords, deal-sealers. They deliver readers to the intended destination, influence what satisfaction each will take away. For the many readers who browse endings or peek ahead to see where their efforts will lead, endings can be invitations--the flip side of powerful openings."
We must commit to a closing worthy of the piece, whether it's a ten-word label or a multifaceted multimedia extravaganza. We must avoid drifting toward a clichéd ending. We need to pay attention to the metaphors and other tropes that surface as we're writing--a strong theme, concept, or metaphor may be trying to emerge, and it may be the exact thing we need for the ending. And of course, we must critically examine the entire ending: have we overwritten? Did we write more than we had to, because we've fallen into the "Gentle Reader" trap, where we're so distrustful of our reader's ability to understand that we over-explain and repeat the obvious? Do those last couple of sentences or phrases really belong? Are they necessary? Or are they diluting the impact of our ending?
And perhaps most important of all:
Does the story actually end, or does it merely stop?
Because to be satisfying and effective, stories need to end, not just stop.
There are lots of ways to do this, of course. In Traveling the Silk Road, one way would be to think of this "ending" as another "beginning"--because that's how trade lines work. There are plenty of other options, too. Which one works best depends on how the fuller story of Constantinople reveals its place in the Silk Road.
And lest you think that I'm immune to the problem of effective endings: On an earlier pass of the interp writing book, I forgot to write the last chapter. Yes, really. It's the chapter that wraps up the book, a kind of conclusion that is The End, but is definitely not a stop. I knew I was supposed to, but somehow, I just never wrote it. Fortunately, my book designer is also a fine editor and politely scrawled a very large "You need a final chapter" note where I'd be sure to see it. Without that chapter, the book stopped, but didn't end.
That's fixed now.
Judy
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*Traveling the Silk Road is organized by the American Museum of Natural History, New York (www.amnh.org), in collaboration with Azienda Speciale Palaexpo, Roma, Italy and Codice; Idee per la cultura srl, Torino, Italy; the Museum at Marina Bay Sands, Singapore; the National Museum of Australia, Canberra, Australia and Art Exhibitions Australia; and the National Museum of Natural Science, Taichung, Taiwan and United Daily News, Taipei, Taiwan.
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Better Than Broadway:
Last chance to register!
How to use theatre to create and present amazing interpretive programs
It's the last day to register for Better Than Broadway--and as of this writing, we need at least 3 more people to sign up for this 2-day preconference workshop or it will be cancelled.
I've been on hiatus from workshops and teaching, a hiatus that will continue through most of next year, too, except for the occasional conference. If you want to participate in one of my sessions, the time to sign up is NOW. Tomorrow will be too late, because NAI will cancel this preconference workshop if we don't make our minimum by Tuesday night (Oct. 13, 2015).
Why should you care?
Because during these 2 days, you'll be working with some of the top living history, cultural interp, and museum theatre people in the world:
Bill Weldon, John Luzader, Elista Istre, Simone Mortan, Stephan Zacharias, and me.
Each of us will be teaching our specialties--playwriting, including character and story creation, in my case--guiding you through the entire process of creating, developing, and performing an interpretive piece. We're even inviting participants to submit ideas for performance development ahead of time--we'll select up to 6 concepts to work with during the workshop!
What you'll get out of the workshop* besides having a lot of fun (this is NOT as scary as it sounds!):
(*Pay attention--these are things that will help you convince the powers-that-be that it's worth the time and money to attend!)
Practical techniques to improve interpretive skills for formal and informal presentations, so participants interact more effectively with visitors in a wider range of situations; Improved understanding of what constitutes a story and how to use story (narrative arc, character development, and other elements) to convey interpretive themes, provoke audience, facilitate learning, and meet other interpretive goals and objectives, which improves all aspects of interpretive programming;
Knowing the hows and whys of research, especially character and costume research, resulting in credible, as well as more effective, programming;
Workshop content is designed to inspire creativity, re-energize participants, and build participants' confidence in performing arts.
You'll experience and experiment with theatrical techniques, from creating and researching stories, characters, and costuming to performance techniques and program assessment. We'll take you through every step of the process, moving you out of your comfort zone without letting you fall into the abyss. By the end of the workshop, you'll have participated in the development, rehearsal, presentation, and critique of a complete performance.
Six highly experienced instructors, two full days of training that will apply to every aspect of your work, plenty of personal attention, and on top of all that, your $200 includes lunch both days, too!
Register Now--Wednesday is too late!
Better than Broadway: How to use theatre to create and present amazing interpretive programs
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