Had a delightful time delivering “Story Lessons from the Hunger Games” at the annual conference for the Utah chapter of RWA up in Park City. Especially enjoyed delivering a sweet dream telegram involving waxed chests 🙂 Here’s the PDF as promised: Story Lessons from the Hunger Games RWA 2011
PDF of presentation given at Heart of the West Conference
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Thank you, John, for presenting your dynamic and enlightening, “Lessons On Story From The Hunger Games.” When I watched your presentation last winter at LTUE I had an “Ah ha” moment. Given the opportunity to pick and choose over the workshops at the URWA conference, I decided that your presentation was one of the most important I’ve ever seen. Sometimes people giving you bullet points about elements, conflict, beats and turning points isn’t as effective as demonstrating where, when and why the emotion hits you/sucks you into the story.
You are a fantastic and engaging speaker, and I cannot thank you enough for agreeing to come to our conference.
PS. Thanks you the Lesli thing, I wish I’d been there to see it. Note to self: Do not make declarations of love over the internet. Someone is always watching…
Lisa, you make me blush. So happy to hear you found it useful. I really had a good time 🙂
Okay, now, I’m really hoping SOMEBODY will take pity on me and clue me in on exactly what happened with the sweet dream telegram. I really think I deserve a few details! You know how to reach me….
Lesli introduced me. In her introduction she said that “this is the man I said I’d leave my husband for.” Then she read a bit of my bio, saying why: I’d been raised a florist and pugilist. Loving flowers and a good fight. Then she revealed she’d been a florist. But then she indicated how embarassed she was because she had no idea I’d bring my wife along to the conference.
Oh, Lesli, how little you knew at the time. . .
I started my presentation. At the part where I pointed out that the three romance covers were using the same dark-haired chest waxer, I deepened my voice and revealed that I was thinking about getting my own chest waxed. The audience laughed. Then I said, “Lesli Lytle.” There was a small uproar. “Lesli Lytle,”–still in the deep voice–“Are you here?”
Her friends all shouted. “Here, here!”
Lesli’s eyes went wide. Her face reddened.
I paused. “Lesli,” I asked, “you know what your name means in ancient Gaelic, don’t you?”
She shook her head.
“Oh, yeah,” I said meaningfully, fanning my face.
The audience laughed. Lesli at this point had very good blood flow to her face. I think she tried to duck under the table.
“Lesli,” I said. “I have it upon good authority that you perform”–I paused a beat for effect–“acts of waxing upon select men.”
The audience hooted. Lesli told me later that she was so embarassed at this point she lost her hearing.
“Is this true?” I asked.
She couldn’t speak. “Yes,” a woman said. “She does!”
But Lesli shook her head.
“Alas,” I said. “In such a way, over cheesy potatoes, are a man’s hopes dashed upon the rocks.” I made my voice throaty. “I hunger, Lesli,” I said. “I”–pause–“hunger.”
The audience hooted and roared.
“And that,” I said, “is your sweet dreams telegram, wishing you a happy Friday, with love, from Sherry Lewis Brown.”
The audience awwwed. Lesli was beet-red, shaking her head in that “oh, I’m going to get her” manner. And then I got on with the presentation.
Lesli was such a good sport. And it was perfect for the audience.
ROFL. Okay, not true. Sitting in my chair laughing — out loud. That’s too, too funny! Thanks for the laugh. I definitely needed one this morning!