Today was a beautiful day dedicated to “story-telling,” starting with a session and a reminder about the essence of a good story: it has a clear beginning, middle, and end, following a linear story arc that people intuitively understand.
The session included a fascinating presentation that drew on some groundbreaking work in improv theatre, as referenced in some of Valerie Geller’s publications. The core of a compelling narrative was described as “this happened, and that happened next, and then that happened after, and the result was…” This workshop, led by Valerie Geller herself, was part of a series held at the Australian Film, Television and Radio School (AFTRS).
I first met Valerie when I was a young, up-and-coming broadcaster working in regional radio. At that time, she was brought into the ABC to help its presenters reconnect with their audiences and improve their on-air communication. I’m a fan.
Valerie Geller is an internationally recognized broadcast consultant and author, best known for her theories on effective radio and television communication. Her seminal work, Creating Powerful Radio (1993), has been a foundational text for broadcasters worldwide. This was followed by Beyond Powerful Radio: A Communicator’s Guide to the Internet Age (2006) and The Four Fundamentals of an On-Air Personality (2018). Her latest book, released a few months ago is called Beyond Powerful Radio: An Audio Communicator’s Guide to the Digital World – News, Talk, Information, & Personality for Podcasting & Broadcasting.
Valerie’s core philosophy revolves around the idea that broadcasters must be authentic, emotional, and truthful to build a strong connection with their audience. Her famous catchphrases, “Tell the truth, make it matter, and never be boring,” encapsulate this philosophy.
She argues that great content isn’t just about facts; it’s about telling a human story that resonates. Valerie emphasizes the importance of using the word “you” to make a story more personal and engaging for the listener, allowing them to imagine themselves in the situation.
This was especially relevant for me as I’ve always wanted to make sure my deeply personal stories about my amputation and disability were something people could relate to, not just a recount of my own experiences. In the last twelve months I’ve been asked to tell the story many times on radio and in person, and I was keen to make sure my story remained interesting,
As Valerie herself puts it, “There are no boring stories, only boring storytellers.”
A powerful tool that Valerie champions in her work is the “Story Spine,” a simple yet effective framework for building a compelling narrative. Originating in improv theatre, this method provides a clear structure that ensures every story has a logical flow. The Story Spine consists of a series of prompts that guide the storyteller, starting with “Once upon a time…” to establish the world and characters, then moving through “Every day…” to show the normal routine. The heart of the story is driven by a trigger event, “But one day…”, followed by the consequences, “Because of that…” and “Because of that…”. The narrative builds to a climax, “Until finally…”, and concludes with a resolution, “And ever since then…”.

By using this framework, broadcasters can quickly and effectively craft a story that is not only coherent but also deeply engaging for the audience. It provides a simple blueprint for turning a collection of facts into a captivating human narrative, proving her point that there are no boring stories, only boring storytellers.
Her workshop today reinforced these principles, stressing that telling a great story is like a muscle that needs to be exercised daily. It was wonderful to see James Valentine and several other colleagues from my ABC career attending the workshop.
Valerie’s influence has been so profound that a week rarely goes by without me applying one of her principles, whether it’s “Tell the truth, make it matter, and never be boring” or the simple power of using “you” in my narrative. The lessons from today weren’t just for my radio career as a presenter or manager; they were for the storytelling I’ve been doing since, whether I’m explaining something to colleagues, friends, or even a child on public transport who asks, “What happened?”
For more information, I’d encourage you to check out her website https://gellermedia.com/
After the workshop, I attended a live presentation of the ABC radio program Conversations at the State Theatre in Sydney. This show is a cornerstone of ABC’s programming and has a rich history.
Having been involved with Conversations over the years, I’ve witnessed its evolution from a program that started as a local show hosted by Richard Fidler on ABC Radio Brisbane to a national phenomenon. The move to be heard in Sydney and across NSW marked a significant step in its growth.
Its format, which features long-form, in-depth interviews with a wide range of guests, has become a benchmark for thoughtful public broadcasting. The show’s success is largely due to its focus on profound, personal storytelling. The program’s history reflects a shift in ABC’s strategy, moving towards more intimate, narrative-driven content to connect with a national audience. The program is broadcast on ABC Local Radio stations across most of Australia, with ABC Radio National carrying it in Victoria.

It was a day that continued the theme of great storytelling, and it was fascinating to see hosts Sarah Kanowski and Richard Fidler on stage, sharing their own stories and discussing what makes a narrative powerful and interesting to an audience. It was a wonderful way to spend a late afternoon, reflecting on the art of communication and the history of one of Australia’s most beloved radio programs.
Sounds like a great day. Remember taking Valerie’s “There are no boring stories, only boring storytellers.” comment to a lot of workshops. Amazing how long lasting Convos has been
It’s so true. I remember once being caught at Christmas drinks with someone who made the most interesting of stories turn into something unbelievably boring with too much unimportant detail.