Remember what it was like when you were a child and heard those magic words, Once upon a time…? It was like a switch was flipped in your brain, and suddenly every cell in your body was straining toward the storyteller, waiting for what would come next. In fact, if you were seated, your body most likely did indeed strain forward while your mind churned with anticipation.

Why? Would you have had the same reaction if someone had begun with Yesterday… or Last year… or even Centuries ago…? Probably not. And again we must ask, “Why?” After all, what does once upon a time mean except sometime in the past? Are those four words, once upon a time, strung together in exactly that order, truly magical?

In a way, yes. The phrase once upon a time is, in a sense, a magic carpet that transports us out of ourselves into a world of fiction where we may kill a fire-breathing dragon, save a beautiful princess, defeat human-eating alien invaders, save a younger sibling from drowning, win the annual spelling bee, make friends with a mermaid, or successfully stand up to the school bully. And that’s just for kids.

Stories for adults seldom begin with those golden words, once upon a time, but that doesn’t mean we grown-ups don’t become just as enthralled as children with the announcement of an impending story. My all-time favorite opening line for a work of fiction is the following:

Born at sea in the teeth of a gale, the sailor was a dog.

Yeah, I know. The Sailor Dog, by Margaret Wise Brown, is a children’s book, but whenever I read that opening, I know I’m in for a good ride.

Now consider the following story opening, intended for us “more mature” folks:

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times….

Charles Dickens has taken no more than twelve words and three seconds to pull us into A Tale of Two Cities. Already we want more.

Why? Why do we care? Whatever Dickens is talking about here is obviously in the past and has nothing to do with us or our current situation in life. So why do we yearn to hear more?

Because we can’t help it. It’s in our genes.

Our brains are wired for story. We learn from story, and our brains are always seeking new information to help us survive. With story, we can hear about what tragic happenstance befell the man who went hunting in the jungle after dark or tried to cross the railroad tracks in the path of an oncoming train. We can imagine ourselves in this situation and, with our brain’s guidance, decide that we had better not do the same thing ourselves, thereby living to hear another story another day.

But if the storyteller is masterful enough to transport us with zir story, then by the end we will have experienced adrenaline flow, sweaty palms, and increased heart rate, all without having to put forth the physical exertion of actually trying to outrun the tiger or the train.

And why is “transportation,” that act of “losing” oneself in a story, so pleasing to us? Because, according to a study conducted by Dr. Paul J. Zak, founding director of the Center for Neuroeconomics Studies and Professor of Economics, Psychology and Management at Claremont Graduate University and Professor of Neurology at Loma Linda University Medical Center, when we are “transported” by story, our brains release oxytocin, a chemical that makes us feel empathy.

Humans are social animals, and empathy helps us to connect with others. Stories encourage us to do this – but only if we are transported by the story. We must be emotionally invested in the story in order for it to have this effect on us. We must suspend our disbelief and go along with the knight in shining armor as he rides off to fight the dragon. Or, to be even more specific, we must not just go along beside the knight, we must become the knight in our minds, and then our brain will take care of the rest.

In his 2015 book, The Irresistible Novel, Jeff Gerke tells us, “The secret to irresistible fiction is to do whatever it takes to gain the reader’s interest and hold it to the end of the book.” In other words, he adds, “You must engage your reader from beginning to end.”

And so when you begin your next story, think about how you will entice the reader to merge with your main character and thus jump gleefully (or slide gracefully) into your own magical realm of fiction. Keep that oxytocin flowing, and you’ll keep your reader happy.

And now come sit with me and let me tell you a story:

Once upon a time….

 

© 2016 Ann Henry, all rights reserved.

Photo: An Invitation © 2016 Ann Henry, all rights reserved.