A Conversation with Barbara & Glenn Schiffman

Interview April 10, 2025 with Sienna

Barbara & Glenn of Flathead Story Concerts are our May Makers of the Month.

Learn more about their Storycrafting Workshop here.

Barbara and Glenn are passionate writers and story coaches, enthusiastic about bringing live storytelling to The Flathead. When asked about the significance of storytelling, Glenn judiciously answered, "Stories are portentous. They teach members of a society how to act." On the process of telling and listening to stories, Barb eloquently stated, "A live-told story is like a prose-poem -- the rhythm, tone, and message are important." and "Hearing a well-told tale -- that’s memorable and engaging -- is like listening to music. That’s why we call our events “story concerts.”

Because storytelling relies on life experience, I thought it might be appropriate to start the interview with a brief background from you both. Can you tell me a bit about yourselves? Walk me through the milestones and main events in your life that have led you here today.

BARB: I think I’ve had several lives so far in this single lifetime. As a child, I was a loner so I made up stories to entertain myself. I wrote my first “book” when I was 7, about a writer whose neighbor was a Martian! A decade later, after dropping out of college where I majored in radio and TV, I learned to type really fast, 120 words per minute. Then I found work in the entertainment industry in Chicago, first as a secretary at a talent agency and later as assistant to an award-winning documentary filmmaker. I moved to Hollywood in my early 20s and worked for a feature film producer and on several TV projects doing research. Eventually I became a script reader and consultant for Hollywood agencies, production companies, studios, writer-producers and budding screenwriters. I also co-wrote several scripts with a friend and even wrote one with my husband Glenn which is partly set in Montana! We would love for it to finally get made, which could be done here in Montana if anyone is interested.

In the early 2000s, I became an entertainment industry career coach and also a life coach. Understanding how to craft stories for movies led me to see real people’s lives as “true stories in progress.”  When I started coaching writers to pitch themselves and their work in Hollywood, I co-founded the first Toastmasters club in the US for writers. In Toastmasters, I learned valuable public speaking skills, and I now teach storytellers to use 3 of the easiest but most powerful speaking tools in our “Tellable Story” workshops.

We believe that everybody has a story to tell, and live storytelling is both a craft and an artform. -Barb

I’ve also written and published dozens of personal growth articles and several self-help books. I’m not writing much anymore, but I still edit books by non-fiction and also fiction authors, including Glenn. I’m proud of his autobiographical novels and essays, especially the ones I’ve edited with him. 

We have one child, a world-travelling daughter, who moved to Flathead Valley with her husband 15 years ago. They’re both nurses at Logan and when she had twin boys in 2014, we knew we’d need to “retire” to Montana to be near them. In 2019, we finally settled in Whitefish. By then we had connected with Authors of the Flathead, the local “writers helping writers” support organization where we are mentors and teachers for local writers of all types. We’re still trying to “retire” but Glenn continues to write books, short stories and personal essays. Together, we coach writers to craft and share their own personal experiences, on paper and out loud.

GLENN: Let’s say I’m writing a story about a guy named Glenn. That story is a vehicle if it’s a memoir; a plot if it’s fiction. Glenn’s story centers around when and how his paternal grandmother died. If she hadn’t died in 1919, Glenn would have been raised Catholic because his father was raised Irish Catholic even though his paternal grandfather was German Lutheran. But when Gramma Joy died during the flu epidemic, Glenn’s dad was pulled from the Catholic Church and raised Protestant. He subsequently became a Protestant Minister and met Glenn’s mother in St. Louis when he was in seminary school. If Glenn’s dad had not lost his biological mother and had remained Catholic, he would have never met Glenn’s mom... 

My second milestone in this life-story emerged from a series of choices that took me to Los Angeles and put me in the Sunset Boulevard office of a rock star’s manager one August day in 1977. That’s where I met Barbara, who was interviewing to become the manager’s secretary that same day. Larry, the interviewer, asked me which of three women he should hire, and I said Barbara. It was a lousy job, so she didn’t stick it out for long. But we started hanging out before she quit and now, 48 years later, we’re in Montana with twin grandsons. It was a watershed moment for me to be at that right place at the right time.

What was the impetus to start Flathead Story Concerts?

GLENN: After we settled in Flathead Valley, I tried to find a venue where I could tell my short stories and poems to interested groups. But the open mic bars in town did not work well for spoken word stories or poetry -- those bars work best for live music. So we looked for other options and began teaching live story workshops as well as curating spoken word events and fundraisers for non-profit groups.

A live-told story is like a prose-poem -- the rhythm, tone, and message are important. You need to make every word count so listeners can stay with you as they “get” your story in the moment. -Barb

BARB: From 2020 through 2023, I led monthly screenwriting seminars for Authors of the Flathead. Meanwhile, after Covid, Glenn taught courses on writing autobiographical fiction and personal essays for FVCC’s Continuing Education program. In 2023, we wondered if anyone in the Flathead was interested in live storytelling -- which Glenn had done with groups in LA and Spokane. So we taught an 8-week class for FVCC which concluded with a live story event on National Tell A Story Day, April 27th 2023. Each of our students shared a personal story live for the first time to over 60 friends and neighbors.

Afterwards, people told us they wanted to hear more true stories told live. So in August 2023 we launched Flathead Story Concerts as an irregular series of free community events, our version of “The Moth Mainstage.” In 2023-2024 we hosted four FSCs at Sacred Waters Brewing, and now we’re collaborating with other groups in the Valley.

We curate stories for these live events by first reviewing written submissions and choosing some to work with. Then we coach the Tellers, we like to help them polish their story structure and presentation skills. Our audiences have ranged from 60 to over 120 attendees per event. We recently curated and co-hosted 3 story events in one week for the Flathead Library Foundation’s National Library Week celebration April 8th-12th with 12 of our favorite Tellers. 

We’re also excited to work with The Making Place to reach more locals who want to share their own true stories. Our workshops will help them do that for live events like ours or just for their friends and families if they prefer. We believe that everybody has a story to tell, and live storytelling is both a craft and an artform. Knowing about structure and presentation skills makes a big difference between telling a rambling anecdote or a compelling and memorable personal story. Listeners get the “message” more clearly in a crafted story, making it a satisfying experience for listeners and Teller.

Can you tell me what it takes to craft a tellable story? Walk me through the process from idea to performance.

BARB: Sharing your own personal story with a group can be daunting -- but also transformational! Crafting a story to be told live is surprisingly different than writing one for publication where people will read it privately on their own. 

A live-told story is like a prose-poem -- the rhythm, tone, and message are important. You need to make every word count so listeners can stay with you as they “get” your story in the moment. When they’re hearing your words, they can’t stop and go back and read some of it again. 

The story structure we use and teach was inspired by “Moth Radio Hour” stories. These are 6 to 8 minute personal experiences shared in a vivid yet conversational style. A strong hook is essential -- the story’s opening -- and so is a “sticky landing” at the end. Listeners mostly remember the first and last parts of live-told stories. 

Also, when we write for publication, we can use fancy turns of phrase or long words since people will read the story to themselves (or skip parts that don’t interest them). When we’re crafting a story for live telling, people don’t know what’s coming next. We need to keep our words flowing by using shorter sentences, simpler phrases, and words we won’t stumble over as we speak. 

We also need to practice the story out loud by telling it to someone else -- or several people. A live story is not complete until at least one other person hears it. By practicing out loud, we embody the story’s pacing and natural flow. We can identify words to emphasize and places for pauses -- to take a breath, to create suspense or tension, or to highlight the next words. We also notice where it is easy to stumble over words so we can edit them or when to make a long sentence into two. 

Sculpt [your story] like a statue, then practice it out loud until, if needed, you could tell it to a friend without notes. -Glenn

GLENN: It helps to have a prompt or story theme to inspire the way to open your story. We give prompts or themes to our students and potential FSC Tellers to help them come up with a personal story that fits our general theme. The story’s tone also adds emotion -- whether it’s funny, suspenseful, dramatic, or tragic. Story tone is influenced by the words and also the Teller’s tone of voice. 

From there, it’s good to consider the audience and also the setting. A Christian women’s book club group sharply differs from a hip young crowd at a brew-pub. I’ve told stories at both! You’ll tell one type of personal story at the book club, a different type at the pub.

Next, you can focus on context – the accepted values or norms of the society at large. Think “grits” versus “polenta,” for example. Concept follows context. Also consider your story’s message and how you should stylistically deliver it. Is the story about a tragedy or a comedy, suspense or mystery, romance or families? 

Using a thematic prompt for inspiration, start by writing a first draft of your story. Get it all down in rough form -- beginning, middle and end. Then start to whittle it down (or expand it) to about 900-1000 words, which is a good length for an 8-minute story. Sculpt it like a statue, then practice it out loud until, if needed, you could tell it to a friend without notes. Be sure to time your story -- and find your best speaking pace, not too fast and not too slow, so your listeners can stick with you from beginning to end.

Is there a moment or stage in the story crafting process that you can point to as your favorite? 

BARB: Identifying the hook and the conclusion are my favorite parts of storycrafting. One leads to the other, and the middle that joins them creates the journey listeners are taken through by the Teller. It’s also fun to find the story’s “takeaway” -- what’s in it for the Listeners, implicit or explicit -- which is often not clear, especially in a story’s first draft. 

When a story has all the right ingredients in the right order, listeners can actually feel the Teller’s experience as they hear it. This comes from a shared state of empathy. -Barb

When the ending is not yet clear, we help the Teller brainstorm what it could (or should) be. I did this recently with one of our new Tellers, whose story wasn’t quite finished when she practiced it with us. So I asked her what she had learned from the experience. She had not thought about that while writing the first draft. But she realized that writing the story actually taught her something important. She was able to nail the conclusion which now ends on a happy image even though some of the story’s elements are sad. You don’t have to sugar-coat a sad story, but finding its meaning is important for listeners.

When a story has all the right ingredients in the right order, listeners can actually feel the Teller’s experience as they hear it. This comes from a shared state of empathy.

GLENN: My favorite is to stop on a high point, not a stuck point. Never walk away from a stuck point, though; work through it. Muddy Waters (the blues singer) had a saying, “Always stop at the top.” Stopping when you’re on a roll means you’ll return to the job with enthusiasm rather than dread.

In your opinion, what makes storytelling so significant?

GLENN: Definition of significant: word origin is late Middle English (denoting unstated meaning), from Old French or from Latin significantia or significare, meaning ‘indicate, portend.’ Stories are portentous. They teach members of a society how to act.

Stories are portentous. They teach members of a society how to act. -Glenn

BARB: We learn from stories of all types. It’s how we make sense of life -- the good, the bad and the ugly. I learned this through helping craft movie scripts. Stories where something’s at stake help us discover what we could do (or not do) in a similar situation.

I recently read a quote in the “Fish Fables,” one of the free advertising news sheets at local groceries and restaurants, that sums it up well: “Bad decisions make good stories.” How true that is! We all learn through our own -- or other people’s -- experiences.

Brain research has also confirmed that our brains actually do synchronize when we hear a story told out loud with other people. Hearing a well-told tale -- that’s memorable and engaging -- is like listening to music. That’s why we call our events “story concerts.”

What is your favorite story to tell?

BARB:  I love coaching other writers to craft and tell their stories more than telling one of my own, although I can. I really like being the host and emcee at our events, introducing our Tellers and making sure they receive the applause their stories deserve. 

One personal story I do like telling, however, is about “making memories on purpose.” I wrote and told it in a workshop after hearing a segment of NPR’s “All Things Considered” about the Dallas Museum of Art. To celebrate its 100th anniversary one year, the art museum stayed open for 100 hours straight so people who couldn’t come during the workday could see the beautiful art and antiques at night. 

One night during this special week, a grandma brought her young grandkids -- ages 4-7, I think -- into the museum at midnight. In footie pajamas, the kids climbed the big stairs up to a room with elaborate antique French bedroom furniture and sat on the carpet while their grandma read them bedtime stories. When the museum director asked the grandma why she didn’t bring the kids during the day instead, the grandma replied: “I wanted to create a special memory for them -- and for me!” 

This led me to begin making memories on purpose with my grandkids -- like walking with them and their parents in the recent “Hands Off” rally in Kalispell, and going to see the Eclipse last year near Niagara Falls, close to where Glenn grew up (we also visited his family’s former houses and gravestones!) -- and also to notice whenever I’m making a memory for myself.

GLENN: I have an 8-minute story about my wild life on the 1970s Rock-n-Roll Road that I’ve told at several live story events where it’s not considered too outrageous. 

The following is a story about sealing the power of innocence, learning to balance the corporeal and the spiritual... -Glenn

But I also like to find old myths and adjust them for modern times. The following is a story about sealing the power of innocence, learning to balance the corporeal and the spiritual, and even about living over here and seeing over there. It’s sort of a myth and not a personal story, but I’ve told it to groups of at-risk teens...

“At the time of the full moon when the buds appeared on the trees, a father takes his teenage son deep into the forest for his initiation ordeal. The father settles his son in a hollowed-out tree and tells his son to stay inside the tree without food and water for four days. After four days, the young man may come out of the tree. ‘Then, for the next year following,’ the father continues, ‘you must learn to fend for yourself.’

“As he leaves, the father parts with a final important warning: ‘Twelve moons from now, at the time of the full moon when the dogwoods flower, I will come back for you. Now remember this: if you sleep with a maiden during those twelve moons, you will die.’

“The first four days in the tree, the young man prayed and acquired a spirit ally. After four days the young man emerged from the hollowed tree. His spirit ally helped him find food and water. During those twelve moons, all alone but not lonely, the young man learns to fend for himself. He readies himself to be a man who serves the people.

“Seven sunrises before the 12th full moon on a lovely early-spring day, a maiden passes by. She sees a young man living out of a hollow tree. The maiden is smitten and stays with him for several days. Feelings stir in the young man. On the 6th day of her visit, she makes the traditional marriage bread and presents it to him, ready to be wed.

“The young man thinks to himself, ‘You know, the buds are appearing on the dogwoods. I mean, they’re tiny but they have emerged. And the 12th moon is almost full. Surely my father will understand.  Clearly, this is meant to be.’

“He accepts the bread, but says nothing about his father’s warning. After all, she might reasonably suggest they wait a couple more days. The moon is only almost full.

“That night they lay side-by-side. The next morning the maiden, who has now become the young man’s wife, wakes and finds her husband is dead.

“She’s mystified and immediately runs deeper into the forest to seek out an old holy woman. Even before the young wife blurts out her problem and asks for help, Holy Woman says: ‘I know why you are here. It is no problem. All I need is the right snake and a fire. And, it just so happens, I have the right snake.’

“The young wife and the crone (mostly the wife) carry the young man to his village. His mother and father, weeping, help the rest of the villagers build a large fire.

“When the fire blazes very hot and very high, the old one says: ‘Here’s the rub. If the snake dies in the fire, Snake-Boy (that’s what she calls the young man) stays dead, and you might as well burn him in this fire also. But if one of you (she points at the father, mother, and wife) pulls the snake from the fire, Snake-Boy will live again.’ 

“At that she hurls the snake deep into the center of the fire.

“Of course the father immediately tries to get the snake from the fire, but the heat is too intense. The same for the mother -- she doesn’t approach even as close as the father. At last the young wife leaps into the fire, finds the snake, retrieves it and leaps out, still alive, as is the snake. But she is seriously burned and disfigured.

“Almost instantly the young man is reborn and everybody cheers; everybody, that is, but the crone.

“ ‘Here’s the rub,’ she says, ‘Snake-Boy is alive again, but there’s payback. No one is exempt from the common destiny; the Fire requires this. There is always a sacrifice of some sort when we tamper with the power of life and death. So now, Snake Boy must choose. If Snake-Boy kills the snake, his mother will die. If Snake Boy doesn’t kill the snake, his young wife will die. In either case, the young man will have crossed the threshold to manhood.’

The story then closes, not with a resolution but with a question: ‘If you were that young man, what should you do?”’(Not would, should – this is not a ‘lady and tiger’ story.)

To say, “Nothing, it’s just a story,” is not an option. We real human beings must engage the joys and sorrows of the world. Snake Boy needs to examine how his actions have upset the balance, impacted who lives and who dies, and affected future generations. But most importantly, he should go to the core of the story, the initial condition that generated the problem. If he does that, he will know what he should do, and that is: “Do not sleep with the girl until the moon is full and the dogwoods have flowered.”

What is the value of this story? Before we had the written word, we had spoken stories. Ever since humans learned to control fire and create a central hearth, we have had stories. The value of a story is in its being told and passed on from generation to generation so future youths will not make the same mistake Snake Boy did. I’ve told my pre-teen grandsons that story, and they have become very good at following directions!

Barbara & Glenn of Flathead Story Concerts are our May Makers of the Month.

Learn more about their Storycrafting Workshop here.