Popular Authors
Hot Summaries
Company
All rights reserved © 15minutes 2025
Select titles that spark your interest. We'll find bite-sized summaries you'll love.
Business, Nonfiction, Self Help, Health, Science, Communication, Writing, Food, Audiobook, Medicine, Medical, Nutrition, Diets
Book
Kindle Edition
0
Wiley
English
1119483409
1119483409
9781119483403
PDF | EPUB
Amanda Palmer stood on a Melbourne street corner in a kimono, holding up hand-written signs one by one. The pale woman with wild eyebrows and a keytar strapped to her back wasn't begging—she was telling her story. Through these simple signs, she explained how she had parted ways with her record label, who wanted to charge an exorbitant amount to produce her next album. She and her bandmates were creating new music independently but needed help to finish. "This is the future of music," one sign read. Another simply stated: "I love you." When Palmer posted this homemade video on Kickstarter, she raised $1.2 million in 30 days—more than ten times her goal. Nearly 25,000 people pre-ordered her album, bought artwork, or simply donated. What made this campaign so successful wasn't that Amanda asked for money. It was that she shared her story. This power of authentic narrative lies at the heart of what makes us human and what drives business success in the digital age. While buzzwords come and go, storytelling remains timeless because it taps into our fundamental neural wiring. Good stories surprise us, make us think and feel, and stick in our minds in ways that bullet points and bar graphs never will.
Jacques Prévert, a French poet, was walking down the street one day when he passed a blind beggar asking for money. The beggar's sign plainly stated his condition, yet few people were stopping to help. After speaking with the man, Jacques offered to rewrite his sign. Days later, Jacques returned and found the beggar in much better spirits. "People have been so generous lately," the beggar said. "My hat fills up three times a day. Thank you for what you wrote on my sign!" What Jacques had written was simple but powerful: "Spring is coming, but I won't see it." With one sentence, Jacques transformed a statement into a story. In a single line, he changed a man's life by creating a narrative that made passersby stop and care. Similarly, when Shane first learned the story behind actor Ryan Gosling, his perspective completely changed. Before knowing Gosling's background, Shane was indifferent to the actor. But after reading his Wikipedia entry, he discovered that Gosling had experienced a difficult childhood—his parents split up, he struggled to make friends, he couldn't read until his teens, and he was diagnosed with ADHD. Television became his escape. He was bullied at school, and once brought knives to school to throw at his bullies like his action hero Rambo. Around age 12, Gosling begged his mother to let him audition for The Mickey Mouse Club in Montreal. He got the part and, because his mother couldn't move to Orlando with him, he was legally adopted by Justin Timberlake's mother. Through performing, he learned to read well, to focus, and eventually became the actor we know today. After learning this story, Shane suddenly wanted to watch Gosling's movies. He went from apathetic to advocate through a ten-minute reading session on Wikipedia. He felt a connection with Ryan, even referring to him by his first name—all because he learned his story. When researchers from the University of Pennsylvania gave people $5 and asked them to read letters from charities, they discovered something powerful. When the plea relied on statistics about widespread problems, people donated less. When the request involved a story of an individual in pain, people donated more. This experiment has been repeated dozens of times with television commercials, brochures, and in-person persuasion. The result is always the same: a plea for help will get some donations, but a story will get more. This happens because our brains are literally built for stories. When we hear facts, the language processing parts of our brain activate. But when we hear stories, multiple areas light up as if we're experiencing the events ourselves. Scientists have a saying: "Neurons that fire together, wire together." When more of your brain works at once, the chances you'll remember the information increase exponentially.
Star Wars has something for everyone. Even if you happen to dislike sci-fi, it still offers a perfect template for what makes stories work. The first element is relatability. America in the 1970s was fresh off the moon landing but also experiencing social unrest and the aftermath of Vietnam. George Lucas took things people loved—comic books, kung fu movies, 1950s car culture, and Buck Rogers adventures—and combined them into something new yet familiar. For us to accept the unfamiliar parts of Star Wars—like a space bar filled with aliens—we needed relatable elements to make us comfortable and care. Though the story took place "a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away," it featured characters we could recognize: the farm boy with big dreams, the sarcastic princess, the lovable rogue. We had empathy for these characters because we saw something of ourselves or our loved ones in them. The second element is novelty. Our brains are wired to pay attention to what's new because evolutionarily, we needed to determine whether new things were threats. The best stories use relatability to get us invested, then use novelty to keep us interested. Star Wars starts with Luke Skywalker in humble beginnings as a moisture farmer on a boring desert planet—then thrusts him into an adventure with increasingly foreign territory, which is exciting. The third element is tension. There's a scene at the beginning of Mission: Impossible III where Ethan Hunt is tied to a chair while a villain holds a gun to his wife's head, counting to ten. The screen goes blank, and the movie flashes back to months earlier. When Shane first saw this film, he had to use the restroom but held it because he couldn't bear to miss what happened next. Tension is what turns a good story into a great one—the emotional tug, the mystery, the what-if. The worst love story ever would be: "Jack and Jill grew up next door to each other, decided to get married because it made sense, and everyone was fine." There's no tension. Romeo and Juliet works because everything is working against the characters. The fourth element is fluency—the ease with which your audience can consume your story. When Shane and Joe put their writing through a reading-level calculator, they discovered they both write at an eighth-grade level. Out of curiosity, they tested great writers like Ernest Hemingway and found he writes at a fourth-grade level. J.K. Rowling, Cormac McCarthy, and other bestselling authors also write at surprisingly low reading levels. The most popular writers on a given topic write at lower reading levels than their peers. Great storytelling speeds you along without making you think about the words being used.
In 2008, General Electric's senior vice president of marketing Beth Comstock faced a significant challenge. The global economy was tanking, GE's stock was plummeting, and the company had developed a reputation as stodgy and out-of-touch. Comstock thought this reputation was crazy because GE made some of the most exciting inventions in the world, from jet engines to solar generators. It had a unique, startup-esque culture—rare for a Fortune 500 company. But no one outside GE knew this. Having previously run digital marketing for NBC Universal, Comstock realized that GE could solve its problem by thinking like a media company instead of a marketer. Her team launched GE Reports, a blog documenting stories behind the company's innovations worldwide. They partnered with artists to make EDM songs from jet engine sounds and filmed pop-science documentaries about classic GE inventions. They were the first big brand to create content on nearly every new social channel—from Pinterest to Periscope. They made six-second videos of science experiments and humorous listicles about gravity. With Comstock's guidance, storytelling became a force that changed the company's reputation both internally and externally. It put GE innovation on display and invited shareholders and customers to reimagine the company as a cutting-edge tech company rather than an old-school power company. This played a central role in GE's remarkable post-recession turnaround. Making this happen inside a massive company like GE was no easy feat. The default mode at large companies is to play it safe—not because of a lack of creativity, but because creativity is inherently risky. However, if great stories require novelty, they inherently require stepping outside comfort zones. At a time when great vanguards of science storytelling—newspapers and magazines—were collapsing, Comstock gave GE's story laboratory the resources and freedom to fill a creative void. What makes GE's approach special is the rare combination of a storytelling culture that plans for success but isn't afraid of failure. Content has touched every part of their business—increasing job applications by 800 percent, making the company a favorite among science enthusiasts on Reddit, and helping quadruple its stock value. Millions of people read their articles and watch their videos monthly. They share them with friends and coworkers, becoming eager advocates for GE.
Throughout history, there's a pattern for how media organizations have used storytelling to build audiences. The very first mass media business was the gossip rag in sixteenth-century Europe. Every day, gossip writers would run around cities like Milan gathering news and rumors, converge at a writing house to create a newsletter with all the gossip fit to print, and distribute these Avvisi around town. These Avvisi writers quickly learned important lessons. First, they discovered that handwritten newsletters delivered faster than those produced on the newly invented printing press—and timeliness mattered more to readers than fancy printed fonts. Second, they learned that writing something that angered someone in power might get their heads chopped off, so they began writing anonymously and posting their newsletters in public places at night. This pattern of audience building follows what we call the "flywheel" or "CCO pattern": Create, Connect, Optimize. First, you create content, figure out how to get it to people, and then optimize both what you create and how you deliver it. Fast-forward 200 years to the newspaper wars of the 1800s, and the same pattern emerged. Papers like Joseph Pulitzer's New York World and William Randolph Hearst's New York Journal found that there were too many papers using the same strategy, creating a glut of content. This led to sensationalist headlines that grabbed attention but diminished trust. What changed everything was when Pulitzer hired Nellie Bly, who pretended to be mentally ill to investigate New York's asylum system. Her exposé generated enormous public interest and led to reforms. Suddenly, people started trusting the New York World, and newspapers began focusing on deeper coverage and specialized topics. This pattern accelerated in the digital age. Upworthy, launched in 2012, became the fastest-growing media company in history by rapidly cycling through the CCO process. They would take inspirational videos others had created, repackage them with new headlines and introductions, test dozens of versions to see which performed best, and then distribute the optimized versions via email. They grew five times faster than any other media company—until Facebook changed its algorithm to penalize clickbait. Today's technology makes it possible for anyone to implement this pattern effectively. Before the internet, you needed a printing press, delivery trucks, and newspaper boys. Now, you can do it all with a laptop and internet connection. The real challenge is getting the most out of each stage of the process. For connecting with audiences, we use what we call the "Bullseye" approach. The most powerful place to connect is your website, followed by email, followed by the social platforms where your audience spends time. Every story should bring the audience at least one step closer to the center of the Bullseye. For creating stories, we use the "funnel-matrix" framework, which maps stories to stages of the marketing funnel (awareness, consideration, acquisition) and content types (timely, seasonal, evergreen). For optimizing, we follow the example of Miami Heat coach Erik Spoelstra, who used data analytics to adjust his team's strategy against different opponents.
In 1903, people in New York City dressed in tuxedos and gowns to attend a special screening of Thomas Edison's latest film. They stood in line outside the theater and sat in fancy seats as the lights dimmed. The black-and-white images were so lifelike that people gasped—even though the film showed just three men shoveling trash on a barge for five minutes. The movie was literally garbage, but people were willing to watch because the medium itself was so novel. That novelty didn't last long. In the first decade of the twentieth century, the U.S. film industry produced 23 films. In the next decade, it produced more than 4,000. Then nearly 7,000 in the following decade. But by the 1960s, only a few hundred movies were being made annually because people stopped watching bad movies. The film industry learned that it wasn't enough to just make a movie—it needed to tell a good story. Today's content marketing faces a similar situation. Brands publishing blog posts, infographics, and social videos was once novel, but it's not anymore. The future belongs to brands that create content so much better than what's out there that no one can accuse them of mediocrity. In the 1970s, blockbuster movies emerged because of visionary directors and improved filmmaking technology. Tomorrow's business storyteller must think like a director crafting stories that are ten times better than the competition. While most companies now accept that great storytelling is crucial for breaking through in a noisy digital world, many have experienced growing pains implementing it. According to Gartner's Hype Cycle, content marketing currently sits in the "trough of disillusionment"—that existentially depressing phase where initial excitement has worn off and reality has set in. Early adopters like Red Bull, GE, and American Express saw massive success, but others took the wrong approach, creating content in a vacuum without proper strategy or distribution. A 2016 study by marketing data firm Beckon revealed that the top 5% of branded content accounted for 90% of all engagement. This doesn't mean content marketing doesn't work—it proves that mediocre content isn't effective. The gap is closing as brands realize that great content must be integrated into every part of their marketing and communications strategy, supported by the right technology. Netflix exemplifies this technology advantage. When they decided to produce House of Cards, they had data showing that Kevin Spacey movies tend to be watched to completion, David Fincher fans watch multiple Fincher films, and viewers of the British House of Cards binge-watched the series. Their $100 million investment paid off in under three months. Netflix's original shows get renewed at twice the rate of regular TV because they use data to inform creative decisions.
Ten years ago, one person could make content work for an entire organization. That's no longer the case. Today, you need real internal support to succeed with storytelling. Marriott's content marketing journey illustrates this perfectly. It began when Kathleen Matthews, the hotel giant's executive VP of communications, convinced 76-year-old Bill Marriott to dictate a weekly blog post, even though he didn't use computers. Over the next decade, that humble blog evolved into a full-fledged global media operation. Marriott launched a popular digital travel magazine covering cities from Seattle to Seoul, built content studios on five continents, and won Emmys for short films like Two Bellmen. At the center of this transformation is M Live, a glass-enclosed content studio in Marriott's headquarters lobby with nine screens showing everything from social media campaigns to real-time booking information. Each seat in M Live represents a different department—PR/Comms, Social Media, Buzz Marketing, Creative + Content, and even their media-buying agency. This isn't just a flashy showpiece; it represents the destruction of silos and the shared goal of using stories to build relationships. Even Bill Marriott comes down regularly to see what's happening and engage with the team. The key to Marriott's success wasn't shutting marketing out of the content process. Instead, they found success by breaking down silos and gathering marketers and content people around a common cause. They hired career storytellers to lead their content marketing program—not career marketers—but made sure everyone worked together toward shared goals. Behind the scenes, the content team works hard at evangelizing and explaining what they're doing. One executive spent three months creating a guide explaining how anyone in the company can contribute ideas or identify trending stories. They've connected the M Live team to customer care to handle complaints, and each Marriott brand is deeply involved with the content creation process. "That's really what our goal is," says David Beebe, Marriott's Emmy-winning vice president of global creative. "To take all the brand marketers, all the brand leaders and teams, and turn them into great storytellers." Not every company needs a sophisticated content studio like Marriott's to build a storytelling culture, but they do need to embrace what it represents—collaborative, cross-functional storytelling that puts relationships first. The organizations that can foster this culture while creating breakthrough content, following strategic methodologies, and leveraging technology will have the greatest advantage in tomorrow's business landscape.
The most powerful stories transform our perception by connecting to our humanity. Whether it's Amanda Palmer raising over a million dollars through authentic connection, Jacques Prévert helping a beggar by reframing his story, or Beth Comstock revolutionizing GE's image through strategic narratives, the fundamental principles remain consistent. Great storytelling combines relatability, novelty, tension, and fluency to forge emotional connections that facts alone cannot achieve. These elements work because they align with how our brains process information—stories literally change our neurochemistry, releasing oxytocin that fosters empathy and trust. For businesses navigating today's digital landscape, the implications are profound. The organizations that thrive will be those that embed storytelling into their culture, following the Create-Connect-Optimize pattern while leveraging technology to inform and amplify their efforts. This isn't just about marketing—it's about transforming how businesses communicate internally and externally. As Benjamin Franklin advised centuries ago: "Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing about." In a world overflowing with content but starving for meaning, the businesses that master storytelling won't just capture attention—they'll earn something far more valuable: lasting relationships built on authentic connection and shared values.
“If you want people to buy your product, you have to get them to care about your story.” ― Shane Snow, The Storytelling Edge: How to Transform Your Business, Stop Screaming into the Void, and Make People Love You
Strengths: The review highlights the engaging nature of storytelling, emphasizing its ability to activate multiple parts of the brain and enhance memorability. It also illustrates the effectiveness of storytelling through a compelling anecdote about Jacques Prévert and a blind beggar, demonstrating how a well-crafted narrative can influence behavior and evoke generosity. Weaknesses: Not explicitly mentioned. Overall Sentiment: Enthusiastic Key Takeaway: The review underscores the power of storytelling as a tool for engagement and influence, suggesting that stories are more memorable and impactful than simple factual statements due to their ability to engage the brain more fully. The anecdote about Jacques Prévert serves as a practical example of how a narrative can transform perception and behavior.
To save this Black List summary for later, download the free PDF and EPUB. You can print it out, or read offline at your convenience.
By Shane Snow