Through following these 5 devilishly simple steps, you’ll discover how storytelling techniques lead to becoming the belle of the ball.
What’s the matter? Life feeling a bit… beige? A bit too vanilla, perhaps? You’re better than that. And I refuse to let one of my readers be a B-word. No that wasn’t meant to be a curse word, I meant a BORING PERSON. Ugh, my gag reflex is tested even writing those two detestable words. Please, allow me to take the vanilla pudding of your life and stir in a little cayenne, a little chaos, a little charisma, to help you forge new storytelling techniques.
Table of Contents
How To Make Your Life More Interesting By Telling Better Stories.
5 ways to make yourself interesting without also getting thrown in prison.
Tell me something: have you ever stood in the middle of your life and thought—goodness me, is this all there is?
The same four walls. Tiresome small talk at the office. The same dinners you make on autopilot. Beige. Dull. Repetitive. As uninspired as a soggy crouton in lukewarm soup.
If so, you’re not alone. I’ve been there. Bored to tears, jaded to the core, and just itching for something, anything, to give life a jolt of juice. It’s simply the worst, isn’t it?
The COVID lockdowns were particularly rough for yours truly. Stress at work, locked inside, utterly uninspired—I began to fantasize about becoming a postal worker. Yes, I was that bored. I thought out about marching around in uniform, delivering letters just to feel something. (No offense to posties—I salute you. I used to work at UPS, and honestly, it was kind of fabulous. Just not quite where my personal destiny lay.)
That’s when it hit me. The problem wasn’t the world. It wasn’t the lockdown. It was the story I was telling myself. I wasn’t boring. I was just telling boring stories.
I worked on this and wound up with these five delightfully wicked principles to help you stop reciting your life and start rewriting it with new storytelling techniques. Because stories, my friends, are not just for books—they’re for living. And it’s time yours got a rewrite that would make even Shakespeare drop his quill in awe.
NUMBER 1 – HAVE AGENCY
First rule of story club: You are the main character.
Not some background barista in someone else’s epic. Not a supporting role in your boss’s drama. You. Are. The. Lead.
And yet… many of you walk around like you’re background actors in a made-for-TV movie. You nod politely, you obey traffic signals, you wait patiently in queues – and you call that living?
No. No, no, no.
Main characters take up space. They command attention. They do things. They get into a spot of trouble. They kiss dangerous strangers and make spectacular mistakes. And then—ah, then—they tell those stories, eyes aglow with mischief, making everyone around them jealous that they weren’t there too.
So here’s a little exercise for you: Take a day—preferably one where you don’t have a million dull responsibilities—and live as the main character. Do what the boldest, most exciting version of yourself would do.
Would she cancel the plans to stay home and reorganize her spice rack? Or would she toss on a leather jacket, grab a friend, and end up in a jazz club at 2am?
Would he reply, “Maybe another time” to that intriguing invitation? Or would he say “Yes” and strut into the night like he owns it?
If you want an interesting life, you have to live like you deserve one. Agency is power. And no one hands it to you—you take it.
Because trust me… when you start behaving like the center of the universe, life will oblige you accordingly.
NUMBER 2 – COMMIT TO MAKING NEW STORIES
Once upon a time, your stories were fresh. Wild. Irresponsible. Fun.
Now, when people ask for a good story, you pull out something dusty from a decade ago and end it with, “Ah, I miss that version of me.”
Nostalgia is a truly dangerous thing. I’ve met far too many people who cling to their past glories like a lifeline.
“Oh, remember that wild night ten years ago?” Yes, I do. And it was ten long years ago.
You’re not dead. Stop acting like your fun has an expiration date.
Here’s the truth— The world didn’t stop being wild just because you got a mortgage and a dog named Kevin. Adventure didn’t pack up and move to a different dimension. You stopped saying yes.
And I get it. Life gets busy. You start mistaking routine for stability. But comfort is a slow death, and you don’t want your gravestone to read, “Lived cautiously. Died politely. Never spilled a drink.”
Here’s the secret: stories are currency. They’re the social gold that makes you magnetic. Want to be fascinating at a party? Don’t wear sequins. Bring a good tale.
So I challenge you—commit to making at least one new story a month. Endulge in one strange night. Make one reckless decision (but not Guatemalan-warlord-reckless, let’s not go there again). Take one chaotic detour.
Your future self will thank you for developing new storytelling techniques. And so will the poor souls at your next dinner party who would otherwise be stuck discussing interest rates.
NUMBER 3 – RESPECT THE WORDS “NEW” AND “YES” (Within Reason)
Let me introduce you to your two new best friends: New and Yes.
They’re far more exciting than Susan from accounting. (No offense, Susan. You’re lovely, but your gluten-free brownie recipe doesn’t slap.)
New is the antidote to stagnation. Every time you try something new, you create a potential story. That’s why I always say: “If it’s new, do it.”*
*Fine print: Unless it’s a pyramid scheme or involves clowns. I draw the line at clowns.
And then there’s Yes. The sexiest word in the English language. Say it often. Say it with flair.
“Want to try sushi from a gas station?” Yes. (Bring stomach meds.) “Want to join us for fire dancing on the roof?” Yes. (Bring aloe.) “Want to go on a spontaneous weekend trip with a guy who calls himself ‘Wolf’?” …Maybe. But probably yes.
“No people” (whose first instinct is to respond to questions in the negative) inherently shut themselves down from the world. They put walls up, dismiss life-altering adventures and that dreaded two letter word is disgustingly habit-forming. If you say no a lot, chances are you and I won’t get along. I’m looking directly at you, babies whose first words are “no”.
The point is, “Yes” leads to stories. “No” leads to regret.
But—and this is important—Yes within reason. Don’t wreck your life for a punchline. Don’t say yes to everything, or you’ll end up broke, hungover, or accidentally married in Reno.
(And hey if you do fail big, just check out my article on How To Turn Failures Into Powerful Stories Of Resilience).
Be bold, not brainless. Think “daredevil”, not “dimwit”. Risk is your spice. Recklessness is just salt in the wound.
NUMBER 4 – RECOGNIZE PATTERNS IN YOUR BEST STORIES
Now, let’s talk about the science of sin. The math of mayhem. The calculus of chaos.
Look back at the stories you love to tell—the ones that light up a room. Notice any patterns?
Maybe they all involve a certain city. A certain friend. A particular drink (three martinis and a dare, perhaps?). Maybe every great tale starts when you break your routine.
Find your magic formula, and repeat it.
You see, experience is a wonderful teacher. The truly wise know how to recreate the magic while keeping it just unpredictable enough to stay exciting.
Find the threads and weave them into new adventures. If something worked before, odds are it might work again—with fresh twists.
For me I have come to realize that Las Vegas, Australia, and New Orleans have nothing on New York City after midnight. The last two words are incredibly important, because believe it or not New York City can actually be pretty by-the-book during the daylight hours. It’s called The City That Never Sleeps for a reason, and when your corporate attorneys and hot dog vendors all retire to their comfy corporation and hot dog-funded abodes, that’s when the devilish magic begins.
That time the lead singer of a band crowd-surfed directly onto me and sang my favorite song downwards at me while I held him aloft? After midnight in NYC.
That time I partied at an underground “Beach House In The Bowels Of Hell”-themed speakeasy bar? After midnight in NYC.
The time I woke up and realized not only were my shoes missing, but I had someone else’s clothes on? Oh, my dear – also after midnight in NYC.
So what’s your magic formula?
Find the recipe. Repeat with variation. You’re not trying to recreate the same night—you’re using the ingredients that make you feel alive.
You don’t need a passport to find storytelling techniques. Just a little self-awareness and a wicked sense of timing.
Your history is a treasure map. Follow it.
NUMBER 5 – FUN NEW STORIES LEAD TO FUN NEW STORIES
Ah, now this is my personal favorite. You see, stories are like cocktails—they rarely come alone.
Once you live one good story, it creates momentum. It paints you as the person people want to invite next time. The person who says yes. The person who brings the energy.
Allow me to illustrate:
Once, in an effort to embrace the new, I reached out to some old friends I hadn’t seen in years. Over dinner, I regaled them with a tale of a party gone hilariously wrong—one that involved an ill-timed dance move and a rather unfortunate collision with a table.
They laughed. They saw me as someone who clearly enjoys a good time. And what happened next?
One of them pulled me aside and said, “You know, if you like parties… I happen to know of one next month. Care to join?”
And just like that… one great story led to another.
You see, life has a funny way of rewarding the bold. When you tell a good story, you broadcast to the world that you are someone worth inviting into new experiences. And trust me… interesting people attract interesting opportunities.
People don’t invite boring people to exciting things. It’s cruel, but true.
But if you walk into a room, dripping with tales of escapades, your reputation precedes you. And opportunity follows. People think, “Now that one knows how to have fun.”
Suddenly, you’re not chasing life. It’s chasing you.
One story leads to another. And another. Until your entire existence is a constellation of memories so deliciously scandalous you’d make Casanova blush.
CONCLUSION
So, let’s recap, shall we?
Have agency. Be the lead. Stop playing extra in your own film.
Commit to new stories. The past is nice. But the present is naughty.
Say “Yes” and try “New.” Be interesting. Be bold. But not arrestably bold.
Learn from your best stories. Patterns are clues. Follow them to glory.
Tell stories, get stories. Be magnetic. Be wild. Be unforgettable.
Life is not about playing it safe. It’s about making glorious, ridiculous, passionate memories and then dining out on those stories for years.
You know how to develop new storytelling techniques. Kiss the wrong person. Dance in public. Jump in the ocean fully clothed. Be a mess, be magic, be a magnificent hurricane in the glassy-eyed calm of everyday life.
And if you ever doubt yourself, just ask, “What would an interesting version of me do?”
Then go do it—with a wink, a smirk, and one hell of a story to follow.
Until next time, storytellers… stay legendary.
