Before we started writing our stories down on paper—or really, papyrus and stone—we spoke our stories aloud around fires, during the freezing winters, and in large groups with musical accompaniment. Bards would write tales of epic adventures. The great poets of old wove monsters from words, heroes from breath.
Our mediums for storytelling have changed. And each medium excels in ways another might fall short.
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Musicians are Just Fancy Bards
As I write this, I listen to “Robbers” by The 1975. When it finished, I changed the song to “Even in Arcadia” by Sleep Token (yes, they’re phenomenal, get off my back). The stories told in each of those songs is powerful. If you haven’t already listened to them before or know their story, give them a listen and read the lyrics carefully.
Long, long ago, during a time of dragons and epic quests, bards would journey forth with adventurers and Witchers and paladins and D&D parties to capture stories in song. Local taverns, filled solely with the bard’s instrument of choice and his voice, would sit on the edges of their seats to hear the romanticized and exaggerated songs recalling the treacherous trials of dear and revered heroes. Epics like The Odyssey and Beowulf were more than likely sung since adding instruments and beats to words made the stanzas easier to remember—which was completely necessary for epics like those.
Even today, we tell stories in our music. The two examples above are perfect, but for the sake of keeping everyone together, let’s consider a song we all know to tell a vivid—albeit repetitive—story.
“Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey has been remade, remixed, and played on the radio since it first came out. My dad recalls sitting down and listening to their Greatest Hits album, playing it through the night rather than sleeping. I remember growing up listening to the song, seeing the “midnight train” that took them anywhere. It’s a story of two strangers who just so happened to take the same train to the same place, where they ended up locking eyes, flirting from across the room, and then eventually getting the nerve to talk to each other.
Another classic. “Bed of Roses” by Warrant tells a story from the singer’s POV about a girl named Desiree who lives at the same motel as he does. She’s down on her luck, running with the wrong crowd, but the singer wants to be there for her and wishes for her a better life.
Modern music is one of the greatest short-form storytelling mediums of the age. Where short stories and novels usually have an ending or resolution, most music doesn’t. The resolution comes from the satisfying chords and the eventual outro. But the story might never be completed. These snippets and scenes are best captured in 3.5-minute songs.
But what about stories that demand a resolution? What about the tales that, though they don’t need the great build up to the ending, still require an end?
Why We Need to Read More Short Stories
Other than the obvious you need to read more literature of all types argument, there are plenty of reasons why short stories should be a part of any reader’s TBR list.
A great short story writer by the name of Edgar Allen Poe—perhaps you’ve heard of him?—changed the way we tell stories. From horror poems to chilling short stories, this man has been the entire personality of people all across the world. A song from a great videogame called Persona 5 references a “shapeshifter at Poe’s masquerade”, a direct reference to The Masque of the Red Death, a short story about the plague. The Fall of the House of Usher was the inspiration behind the miniseries by the same name. References throughout that show point back to Poe’s stories and poems.
But why make the story short? Why condense such great literature when it could easily have been a best-selling novel?
For Poe’s stories, I believe it was best told as a shorter piece because of the tension. We knew Poe’s work, knew that his stories brought on the best chills and creeping feelings on the backs of our necks. Short bursts of horror that last forever and impact modern culture. It’s what made Poe’s work so stunning.
A brief horror story does the same thing as a trilling violin—it keeps the tension for just the right amount of time before scaring us senseless.
But what about sweet short stories? What about sci-fi? The same logic can be used. They’re glimpses into a life, real or unreal, and tell a brief but entertaining story. Like a memory, some stories only are only told in minutes rather than days or months or even years. This shorter form of storytelling allows for the “interesting bits” to be told without the “boring” lead up. (I put all of this in quotes because that isn’t always the case.)
Whatever the case may be, the author chose to omit the beginning and after, choosing instead to tell a story of the moment.
What a Novel Idea
We have the classic novel. Dracula and Frankenstein and all the other wonderful classics tell a story from beginning to end with resolutions that we may not always find pleasant. I sit at my desk now and look at the sixth book in The Expanse series, Babylon’s Ashes by James S.A. Corey. I also have Rebeccas Ross’ fantasy hist fic duology, two of the three books in the Emily Wilde’s series, and a copy of my own book, Sweet Music, in front of me.
And that’s just on my desk.
But this popular storytelling medium has a purpose. Each great novel starts out with an introductory scene that shows the readers what life was like before the inciting incident. Before she became queen consort, she was a farmer’s daughter. Before she became an assassin, she was a bladesmith. Then the inciting incident, which the main character may or may not choose at first, the rising actions, falling actions, climax, and eventual resolution. It’s the well-known and wholly predictable story graph—which, at times, has made it hard to enjoy novels when I can clearly see the graph within the story.
But the purpose of this graph—and ultimately the purpose of novels—is to tell a story from start to finish. From just before “things get good” to just after “the world comes crashing down”, we follow a character’s story, which could span either one complete novel or, in the case of The Wheel of Time series, 15 novels. Regardless of how many the books end up being, they have a clear beginning and a resolving end.
Horror stories, to compare to Poe’s short stories, take on a very different feel in this medium. The story is drawn out, and so the tension builds gradually. Where in short stories we have an exponential building of fear, in novels, we have sprinkles of tension here, a handful there, and then suddenly a bag of bricks-worth of anxiety that comes to a head when the monster/ghost/killer rears its ugly head. Same difference for romance. In romance short stories, we start in the middle of the romance and have the satisfaction of experiencing that first kiss or finally falling in love almost instantly. In novels, that wait is longer, and so we may end up waiting a few chapters or the entire book before two characters finally confess their feelings.
Think of it this way. Short stories are instant gratification. That little dopamine hit that gets you through the day. They’re fantastic. I totally recommend short stories.
But goodnight are novels a practice in patience sometimes…

I Smell Popcorn
Does anyone else remember the 3-D craze when nearly every other movie was in 3-D with those weird glasses? Then the 3-D TVs came out, the crappy glasses got better, and suddenly we were reaching out to hold hands with someone falling through space.
Yeah. That 3-D.
Movies are a great medium for storytelling for a myriad of reasons. But the reason that sticks out to me the most is the senses. When watching a movie, we can hear the music, hear the voices, and hear the special effects, something that we can only imagine while reading or even listening to music—not very many songs come with special effects.
But it’s not just hearing. It’s seeing. What may take two pages of explanation and description may take a few seconds to show on a screen. A massive paragraph describing an alien lifeform takes a second to show. Movies make it easier to see what’s happening in the story and captures more details in seconds than a book could in a single sentence. Of course, there are limits to technology, and some stories can’t be told visually simply because we can’t create it well enough yet. That’s the whole reason why Avatar: The Way of Water took so long to come out: James Cameron was willing to wait for the right technology to capture the story.
Movies always run the risk of capturing a story incorrectly as well. “The book was better,” is a common saying, after all. Movie remakes of popular books can take away some of the magic the original story held. Characters may change to fit a film’s timeframe. Settings may change due to technological restrictions. Music may fall short. Outfits may not fit the exact description. Any little change could make or break a story. We end up exchanging accuracy of story for sensory expansion.
But seriously, by all means, please keep making shows like The Expanse and The Wheel of Time. We need to see how directors would cast our favorite characters.

Videogames are Just Interactive Movies, Change My Mind
My husband and I just finished playing Persona 5 Royal. We romanced the obvious choice—SPOILER ALERT: It’s Sumire—and played the DLC, which had fantastic music. The way we played Ren Amamiya was sarcastic, a little dense, and very sassy. We thought that fit him best.
Well, turns out Persona 5 has an anime and a manga series. And, of course, I looked into both.
Persona 5, for those who haven’t played, follows the story of a student who gets caught up with the law for stealing hearts and changing lives. Yes, you heard me. He was actually stealing people’s hearts to change their distorted desires and make them confess their evil doings. So naturally, the politicians hated him and called for his arrest. By using the supernatural plane called the Metaverse, he and his friends were able to insight change in the wicked hearts of corrupt teachers and popular figures alike.
Long story short, it was a fantastic game.
When we finished, our friend and variety streamer MxWebz told us to check out the anime. So of course we did. The story is the same. Condensed to fit the 25ish-minutes required for most anime but still the same.
But Ren felt…different.
Where we were sassy or sarcastic, he seemed to be very level-headed. Where we were quiet, he spoke. Where he was compliant, we were a bit difficult.
He wasn’t the Ren we imagined. Not entirely.
I haven’t had the chance to read the manga, but I have read pieces. And if Ren from the show was different, holy crap, the guy from the manga is a stranger.
First off, his name is Akira Kurusu in the manga, which was a total air ball for me. He’s sassy and sarcastic like us, but he’s a little more…unhinged. A very different character than the version we saw in cut scenes and from our choices in the game.
Let’s just say this. Ren would have romanced one girl. Akira will romance every girl he meets and maybe even one of the personas. My guy is wild.
But this is a perfect example of storytelling through videogames. The example of Persona 5 is an easy one because we get to choose how we play it, who we spend our time with, how we go about each day, what kind of student we are, and so on. But consider something like Dark Souls or Elden Ring, the SoulsBorne games by FromSoftware Studios. Dark Souls tell the story of a dead man—you—who was chosen long ago to bring on the age of darkness and continue the cycle of life. Whether or not we fulfill that destiny and end that cycle is our choice. Elden Ring sends us on a quest to repair the Elden Ring and become the new Elden Lord. Who we become and how we get there is up to us.
Both of these stories have multiple endings—which many players, including my husband and MxWebz, have discussed and raved about—depending on your choices, successes, and items collected during the game. Who you become is entirely up to you—but the consequences can change the narrative.
Storytelling mediums like books, movies, and songs are concrete. People can’t mold the story to their liking like they can with videogames. The story will always end the same from cover to cover. The song will always end on that same note. You will always see the same scene before the credits roll.
With games, that can change should the narrative and developers allow it. In Bioshock, if you save the little girls, you get a sweet ending; destroy them, and the ending is lonely. In Bloodborne, you have three choices. Each choice comes with a consequence only you can decide is good or bad. You are the storyteller—but you are also the audience. I can’t think of any other medium that allows someone to do that.
Except maybe those plays that involve the audience. Those are cool.
Mediums Matter
How you choose to tell your story matters. Some stories are better told as poems or short stories, like how that one meeting could have been an email…but the nicer version of that. A song might be better as a poem or an epic. A novel might even be better as a movie thanks to its complex designs and otherworldly descriptions. That one movie—you know the one—was way better as a book. And if you want the audience to be involved, a videogame is a good option…albeit a very involved and expensive one, but you get the point.
Choose your story’s medium wisely. Think on it. Consider how best to reach or involve your audience. Consider the characters. Consider their story.
There are so many ways to tell a story, dear reader and writer. How you tell it can be what makes that story unforgettable.