Editorial Guidelines
Telling a story at Tenx9 Nashville? Here are some guidelines for preparing a compelling, Tenx9-suitable story.
Tenx9 is a night for ordinary people to tell true stories from their lives—not fiction, not fable. As our founder Michael always says, "A story is our experience of the things that happen to us." So, thanks for lending us yours.
We are after real stories—stories with a start, middle, and end (though not always in that order!). Stories that have listeners wondering "What happened next?" or "Why did she do that?" or "That character sounds just like my Great Aunt Myrtle."
Unfortunately, folks sometimes want to give a live editorial on a theme, offer a thought with no structure, talk about a theme without telling a story, tell a story in order to convince us of something, proselytize, recruit, or simply use the stage as a platform. Tenx9 is not for those things—and that's okay, because there are plenty of great spaces for that kind of speaking. Tenx9 is for good, simple, beautiful storytelling at its best.
The Core Requirements
It has to be true.
It has to be about you, the teller. This is your story, from your life.
It has to be under ten minutes. A timer will go off to let you know it's time to wrap up. Ten minutes is roughly 1,400 words—about two and a half single-spaced pages at 12-point font. Practice while timing yourself. Your ten minutes starts the moment you step behind the microphone, so jump right in.
It needs to be an actual story. Sounds obvious—but make sure you're not going on a rant, delivering a manifesto, or offering an analysis. Something should be happening and unfolding. We aren't looking for reflections on the theme or a description of many different events. Tell us one cohesive story. And remember—the story is in the specifics. Take us into an actual experience. Tempted to tell two stories in your ten minutes? Our experience has shown that this tends to slump.
No morals. No messages. No advocating. This might be the guideline that surprises people most, so let us explain. We love good persuasive speaking, advocacy, and editorializing as much as the next person—there's nothing wrong with any of that. But Tenx9 isn't the place for it. We're after storytelling, not convincing. No proselytizing, no calls to join the cause, no telling the audience what to think or feel. If you find yourself wanting to say "Here's what I want you all to know," you're veering off course. Trust us—your story will land with more impact if you let it speak for itself. Great stories don't need us to explain them. They speak for themselves.
Meet our "neither prudes nor crudes" standard. We ask that storytellers balance telling the truth of their stories with providing a welcoming space for everyone. Don't overly sanitize, and don't unnecessarily offend. If you're not sure where that line is, don't worry—we will help you find it. 😊 A few specifics: use a pseudonym if someone in your story might be embarrassed to be identified. And while we love juicy, intimate stories, we can't have stories whose main point is sexual. If the story couldn't be told on public radio, it's unlikely to be suitable for Tenx9. We will reject a story if the content is offensive, hateful, objectifying, or overly crude.
A Few More Tips
Cut the scene-setting introduction. Drop the audience right into the story. If listeners aren't asking "What happened next?" within the first 30 seconds, you may not be in the story yet.
Hook us from the start. Use a strong opening line: "Once, I saw a side to someone I had never seen before. But I'll get to that…" Remember, your ten minutes starts the moment you step behind the microphone.
You don't have to write it out. You're welcome to tell your story rather than read it. But if you're ad-libbing, keep to the point—ad-libbers sometimes have great beginnings and endings but a slumping middle. Pro-tip: Know your first and last lines verbatim.
You don't have to give every detail. Set the scene succinctly: when did it happen? Where? Who was there? Then get into it.
Keep your cast of characters manageable. If your story involves a lot of people, help us keep track—rather than rattling off names, consider referring to people by a descriptor: the builder, the dancer, the teacher, the vampire. You get the drift.
Have a strong ending. A good ending tells you—and us—that the story is complete. Know where you're going. Few things ruin a great story like a choppy landing.
It doesn't have to be funny. But of course it can be. Just make sure it's a story, not a standup routine.
