• The engine clicked quietly as it cooled. Cars rolled passed as I leaned my head against the window, but I wasn’t watching to the traffic. I was seeing the skyscrapers of New York City, hearing the bustle of its streets and the curving speech of its workers, feeling the tension of sand hogs as they dug under the rivers with compressed air to bring a city of millions its water.

    The voices paused, and I forced myself to click off the radio. I sighed, sad to stop the story, but I was thirty minutes late for church. I turned off the car and stepped out.

    Radiolab is a radio show from WNYC, a station in New York City, and I have a hard time expressing how brilliant and enjoyable this show is. The way they tell stories and in particular design the sound for the show blows my mind every time I listen to it. To quote Radiolab’s website:

    Radiolab believes your ears are a portal to another world. Where sound illuminates ideas, and the boundaries blur between science, philosophy, and human experience. Big questions are investigated, tinkered with, and encouraged to grow. Bring your curiosity, and we’ll feed it with possibility.

    As I drove to church that morning I listened to an episode about cities—cities!–and it was fascinating. I mean, they’re talking about cities! I have never once thought about why cities form, why people congregate to them, or how they stay alive. Yet there I was, sitting in my car, listening to a physicist talk about how fast people walk and how that related to any given city. Even after I got home from church I sat in my car again and listened to the last twenty minutes of the show, captivated.

    What I think they do so well is this: they make the story audibly interesting and intriguing. It’s not just facts about how cities form. The story of course involves those facts, but the sound effects and music they use to illustrate the story keep me intrigued about what will happen next.

    My point is, you can’t just have facts in a story. History class in high school was boring because who really wants to remember a bunch of random dates and names in other languages? But when you make the story of the facts about discovery, about mystery, about asking why something works, about getting at the living essence of the subject matter, then I’m intrigued. My curiosity is piqued.

    To that story of mystery and discovery Radiolab adds sound that is intriguing to my ears. They move the story forward at a fast pace by intercutting interviews from this expert and that random person on the street, punctuating it with expertly crafted sound effects and serene moments of silence and gentle music. Audibly it’s not just voices droning on and on. There’s sound design that matches the facts of the story and, perhaps more importantly, also its emotion. Thus even if I don’t care much about what they’re talking about, my ears are intrigued by all the sounds and shifts in auditory emotion, and I stick with the story long enough to become intrigued by the subject. Like the smell of freshly baked cookies before the eating, the sound design of Radiolab keeps me listening.

    The reality is, people don’t usually care enough to listen to facts. We are too busy, too impatient, and too self-focused to give time to something we don’t really care about. The facts I have to share could be the most shocking and important facts in the world, but how do I get people to stop and listen, to engage long enough with the story to actually start caring?

    The key is engaging a person’s senses. Humans are curious by nature; we want to discover new things. We hear a sound so we investigate. We smell something delicious and we go looking. We see something beautiful and we’re content to stare for hours. As crafters of stories, we need to activate those senses.

    With film, the senses we have to work with are sight and sound. (Though people tried, smell-o-vision never really worked.) If we want people to care about what we’re talking about as filmmakers, we have to keep it visually and audibly interesting. This is what Radiolab does so well on a sound level. They take facts about cities (did you know that each city has its own speed of walking, and by that pace you can know how big the city is?) and shape it into a journey of mystery and discovery, coupled with an auditory journey where sounds are audible descriptions of facts and emotions are punctuated by music. And suddenly I’m sitting in my car for twenty minutes fascinated by a question I have never once considered.

    Now, I would argue that you can’t only engage the senses. If you don’t have facts and it’s solely sensual stimulation, there won’t be any depth to the story, no emotional content. The facts are what engage the heart, and for a story to be long-lasting, for it to impact someone’s life, you have to engage the heart.

    Some people think that engaging the senses is enough, but the problem with that is you have to increase the stimulation over time. The Lumiere films enthralled people with a stationary shot of a train arriving. Movies like Transformers would have given those viewers a seizure. But over the years we’ve gotten used to things, so the sensual stimulation has had to increase. It must be more explosive, more violent, more sexual, more chaotic in order to keep an increasingly dulled audience engaged and coming back for more. The main reason Hollywood is pushing 3D is not because people are watching less movies, but because the stimulation they’ve used in the past isn’t working well enough and they need something new and exciting to draw the crowds.

    Another example is infographics. Normally I wouldn’t care about statistics; bar graphs are the ultimate example of boring. But the facts are important, so people take those same facts and make them visually interesting. Suddenly I want to look at it because my sight is intrigued, and then I start caring about why sitting is bad for me.

    The facts that engage the heart have to work in conjunction with sensual stimulation. It doesn’t matter if those are real-world facts or fictional ones that you made up. If you just have facts, I won’t listen long enough to care. But if you just have sensual stimulation, my heart won’t be engaged and you’ll have to constantly come up with new things and be more extreme visually and audibly to keep me interested.

    After writing this blog post, I read back over it and realized the beginning was just facts. A random person reading this would glance at the first few paragraphs and see a description of a radio show and how I went to church this morning. Talk about boring. Why should they keep reading? So I had to rewrite the intro into something that invited the reader into my own journey of discovery.

    Our role as crafters of stories is to fashion a journey of mystery and discovery and put it in a context that is visually and audibly interesting.

  • I’m proud to introduce Script & Screen, a podcast about writing, media, and life.

    Script & Screen is hosted by myself and my lifelong friend, Patrick Cook. Pat and I have been making movies, telling stories, and laughing together for as long as I can remember. (Except the movie part. That started in high school.) We both graduated from the same film course at the University of Montana and are each heavily involved in writing and making videos. We talk on the phone all of the time about what we’re working on, so we thought we would record it and let you in on the conversation.

    In the podcast we talk about what we’re currently writing, along with the problems and solutions we’ve encountered; our latest media projects and creative endeavors; and life, or in other words, whatever we feel like.

    Eventually the podcast will have its own website and iTunes page, but for now you can find the download links for first two episodes below.

    Episode 1: Not a podcast of lies

    Pat and I talk about the point of the show, the projects we’ve worked on recently, how it’s not possible to not write crap, outlining, and spring in Montana. Download here.

    Episode 2: I have to learn to play the Ukelele

    Pat and I talk about his lead role in an upcoming play, my latest reading and what I learned about backstory, and Montana’s snowpocalypse. Download here.

  • My reading list in 2011 turned out to be a lot different than I planned. My goal was to read a bunch of biographies about people who had done crazy things for the Lord, people like J. Hudson Taylor, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Jonathan Edwards, and the like.

    But then in April I realized that if I broke it down to a small number of words a day, it would only take about six months to write a middle grade novel. I started working on an idea I had been toying with for a while, and from that point on started reading books like I was going to write. Thus, there are a lot of middle grade and young adult novels on the list.

    I’ll try to post a few thoughts about the books and my recommendations for the year. Until then, here is the list of the books I read in 2011:

    1. 1/5-11: John G. Lake: Apostle to Africa, by Gordon Lindsay
    2. 1/12-16: I Am The Clay, by Chaim Potok
    3. 1/23-28: The Bourne Identity, by Robert Ludlum
    4. 1/30-3/18: The Biography of J. R. R. Tolkien: Architect of Middle-Earth, by Daniel Grotta-Kurska
    5. 2/17-3/2: The Jesus I Never Knew, by Philip Yancey
    6. 3/2-12: The Case For Christ, by Lee Strobel
    7. 3/18-5/11: The New Testament, by Jesus
    8. 5/12-21: The Heavenly Man, by Brother Yun
    9. 5/22-27: Tortured for Christ, by Richard Wurmbrand
    10. 5/27: The Secret of Platform 13, by Eva Ibbotson
    11. 5/31-6/2: The Sword, by Bryan Litfin, ebook
    12. 6/2-5: The Knife of Never Letting Go, by Patrick Ness
    13. 6/10-17: The Ask and the Answer, by Patrick Ness
    14. 6/17-18: Story of a Girl, by Sara Zarr
    15. 6/19-22: The City of Ember, by Jeanne DuPrau
    16. 6/22-25: The People of Sparks, by Jeanne DuPrau
    17. 6/26-30: When My Name Was Keoko, by Linda Sue Park
    18. 7/1-2: Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Lightning Thief, by Rick Riordan
    19. 7/2-4: The Prophet of Yonwood, by Jeanne DuPrau
    20. 7/5-14: The Diamond of Darkwood, by Jeanne DuPrau
    21. 7/15–30: The Journey of Desire, by John Eldredge
    22. 7/31–8/1: The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins
    23. 7/31–8/9: UNTITLED: Thoughts on the Creative Process, by Blaine Hogan
    24. 8/2–5: Catching Fire, by Suzanne Collins
    25. 8/11-20: Seeing and Savoring Jesus Christ, by John Piper
    26. 8/20-21: Mockingjay, by Suzanne Collins
    27. 8/21–9/3: Suprised by Oxford, by Carolyn Weber
    28. 9/5-11: Lord of the Flies, by William Golding
    29. 9/14-17: The Maze Runner, by James Dashner
    30. 10/18-22: The Skin Map, by Stephen R. Lawhead
    31. 10/23-29: Comrade J, by Pete Earley
    32. 10/29-11/6: The Dagger Quick, by Brian Eames
    33. 11/6-12: The Floating Islands, by Rachel Neumeier
    34. 11/12-19: Incident at Big Sky: The true story of Sheriff Johnny France and the capture of the Mountain Men, by Johnny France and Malcolm McConnell
    35. 11/20-29: Airman, by Eoin Colfer
    36. 12/1-20: Nearing Home, by Billy Graham
    37. 12/20-22: The Scorch Trials, by James Dashner

    Free reading tip: You might ask, “How the heck do you know exactly what you read?” At the beginning of the year I simply grab an index card and use it as a bookmark. I write down the date I start a book and the date I finish it. I’m looking forward to looking back after several years of reading and seeing a detailed list of all that I have read.


  • Today’s audio story is The Buggy Man Murder, wherein the apprentice detective Meltzer helps solve a case of murder, hidden identity, and what you should never leave home without.

    The MP3 is available HERE for download.

    For more stories, visit the Audio Stories page.

  • Recently I wrote about why I follow Jesus. It’s not because he’s healed me, miraculously provided for me, or given me the answers to all of my questions. While he promises to do those things (except maybe all the answers part), I’ve never personally experienced that. In the end, the reason I follow him is because he has won my heart.

    After writing that post, I began to think about how Jesus did it. How did someone who I’ve never seen or audibly heard win my heart?

    In a round-about way, he revealed a bit of how he did it through a blog post on leadership. Jeff Goins, guest-writing on Michael Hyatt’s blog, wrote:

    Great leaders are effective, not because they know all the answers, but because they have the tenacity to act. Leadership, as it turns out, is really the act of making intentional decisions and accepting responsibility for them… [T]his is the key to being a leader worth following.

    A leader worth following…. No one likes following a wishy-washy leader. We like following someone who has a goal and a clear plan to get there. A good leader makes decisions and takes responsibility for the consequences. If it turns out to be a bad decision, he makes another. A leader thinks, discusses, and then makes a decision and sticks with it. This is the type of leader people will follow.

    It hit me that this is what Jesus did. He loved me before I loved him, remember? He made a decision and then invited me to follow him. Like with the disciples by the Sea of Galilee, he turned to me and simply, gently invited me to come with him, to walk in a relationship with him. “I have a goal,” he said, “to transform you from a person of sin into one of righteousness. I want to know you and I want you to know me. Will you come with me?”

    The question hung in the air… as he waited for my answer. The Maker of the Universe, the Alpha and Omega, the King of all kings… waited to hear my answer. Had he forgotten that he controlled the very atoms that formed my tongue? With a lift of his eyebrow those atoms could curl and twist and air would obey his command and rush into my lungs and form the word, “Yes.” But he didn’t. Nor did he pound pound pound on my door asking in a thunderous voice, “What say you?” He waited for my answer, letting me freely choose to say yes or no.

    How could I reject an invitation like that?

    I certainly didn’t do things right, though. I messed up, left him for other things, said no to his small invitations when I should have said yes, but still he stayed with me. He was patient with my mistakes. He lovingly helped clean up my messes and tenderly lead me out of the dirt.

    At times I screamed at him, hated him for remaining silent, for not giving me the things I needed. I ignored him for months on end, accused him of not loving me—and yet every time I looked, in spite of all I said and did, he still served me. He still gave me breath to breathe, still kept the atoms of my tongue in one place, still lifted the sun every morning, still covered me with his blood, still waited with open arms when I ran to him.

    And lastly, while others rejected me, he called me chosen and precious. He looked at me and said, “This is how I made you and I love it! Not all that extra stuff, like the walls you’ve built or the things that sin have done to you, but you, the you hidden deep down in there for so long you don’t even know what it looks like—I love you.” He gave me permission to be myself, with all my cheesy jokes and bad hair days, with all my zits and cracked voices. He didn’t make me act a certain way or stop doing that annoying thing I do. He let me be me, and went out of his way to create situations where I could simply be who I am.

    And when I felt too awkward to do it myself, he most tenderly, most gently, peered close at the me hidden deep deep inside and said, “Let’s see if we can you out here.” And doggone it, he keeps putting me in situations designed (I’m sure of it) to draw me out. Not ones that will make himself look good, mind you; the Cross was anything but flattering. The situations are never about making himself look cool or attractive. They are all about getting the real me out.

    He leads me to cliff edge after edge and says, “I know you’re too scared to jump even though you really want to, so I’ll do it with you if you want.” I glare at him as I edge closer, and he grins that mischievous grin of his and says, “You don’t have to jump if you don’t want to. But I’ll be with you if you do.” I know if I don’t it’ll only be because I’m afraid, so of course I jump… and each time that I land safely with him next to me I grow more confident that maybe, just maybe, the me I’ve been too afraid to let out actually is valuable.

    At the end of day when I sit down on my bed and think about him, I feel… his nearness. I feel our history together. I remember how he invited me on a journey, how he let me freely say yes or no, how he was patient with all my mistakes (however messy), how he served me no matter what I said, how he accepted me as I was and didn’t make me act like someone else and purposefully found situations that would draw out the real me no matter how it made him look—and my heart fills up.

    This is the One who has won my heart, wholly and fully.

    Now…

    … about that dating advice….

    Men, it’s really simple. Paul compared the way of a man with a woman with Jesus and his Church. So… just follow Jesus’ example.

I’m Jesse

Reading, writing, fantasy, adventure, movies—it’s all been my favorite since I was 8 years old. If you enjoy reading fantasy, adventure fiction, and screenwriting, then you’re in the right place!

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