November 2024 Newsletter
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We have storytelling for children and family online from 4th to 8th November and in person on the 9th and 10 November
All FREE of Charge. Registration required.
Join us for an evening of oral storytelling as our tellers tell tales that explore the theme, “Build Bridges, Not Walls.”
Discover the magic of storytelling with Ten Terrific Asian Tales To Tell! ? Dive into 10 enchanting tales, each filled with rich culture and timeless wisdom!
Get your copy at the 398.2 Storytelling Festival on 9 & 10 Nov, 10.30am – 3.30pm, first come, first served
Stocks are limited, so grab yours before they’re gone!
Events in Singapore & Around the World
Join us for an engaging Learning Capsule that uncovers hidden truths about storytelling. In this dynamic learning capsule, we’ll challenge common misconceptions about how stories work in our lives & beyond. Designed for everyone from beginners to seasoned storytellers, this workshop offers practical techniques to enhance your storytelling skills.
Dr. Kevin D. Cordi is a storyteller and educator and Narrative 4 trained coach ( narrative4.com ). Learn more about his work and join him in exploring the art and power of storytelling at www.kevincordi.com
Since SAS is an institutional member of FEAST (Federation of Asian Story Tellers), 5 members of SAS can attend this workshop at FEAST member’s rate of SGD$7 (standard rate is SGD$15). Sign up quickly to be the first 5 SAS members to enjoy this rate! Email feastwebinars@gmail.com to get this special rate.
Click here to register and find out mor about this session.
FEAST has numerous events (some free and some for a small fee) every month. To find out more or to become a member go to their website here.
This gathering will be a time for sharing folktales, personal experiences, and historical accounts about acts of kindness. Each story, whether about small acts or heroic gestures, will celebrate the power of compassion and empathy and how they bring individuals and communities closer together.
This is a free online event organised by the Australian Storytelling Guild (NSW) australianstorytellers.org.au/events
Join with people from all parts of the world for cultural exchange and an entertaining experience of different oral storytelling styles and genres.
Come as a listener or teller. All welcome.
Wednesday, 20th November 2024 – 4.20 pm SGT (check your timezone
If you would like to tell a prepared story of 5-6 minutes on this theme, email Christine Carlton at storyaus@gmail.com
Register on Humanitix for your free link.
Starts November 5th Tuesday, 7:00 am, Singapore time
To find out more and to register click here
SSG Virtual Story Swap
(every month on Zoom)
Come to share an eight-minute story – personal or folktale, or just come to listen. Family friendly, and told, not read. Feedback will be offered if desired and time allows.
To receive an invitation to attend, please contact:
Barry McWilliams, eldrbarry@gmail.com, or
Marilyn Grevstad, grevstad@aol.com, or
To register: https://bit.ly/SSG1stFridaySwap
For the website and for other events click here
The Yorkshire Festival of Story has numerous free and paid events online.
Happy Halloween
Once upon a time, an inordinately long time ago, Halloween was, charming princes and princesses, winsome ghosts and ghouls, enchanting vampires and werewolves, adorable mummies and pharaohs and a parade where the young and old alike took part with verve and vigour, walking and prancing around the community.
In masks and costumes kids walked the streets and knocked on doors for tricks and treats.
Then one day, a new family moved into that community and that family did not take part in the festivities. Even a young boy in that home was not allowed to dress up or take part in the parade nor to go trick or treat with the other children in the community.
That little boy narrated the story below and why his family did not participate in the Halloween fun and fiesta.“Happy Halloween to all. And to all a good haul of candy and a jolly good fright.” ~ Hubie Dubois
A fine line divides sanity and insanity.
A weary soldier was returning home after a truce was announced. It was a long, dusty bus ride home. His heart was heavy and his mind muddled. “Wars do not end, do they?”, that was the thought uppermost in his head. “Only the dead see the end of war”, he muttered more to himself than anyone else.
He was grateful to be alive after having been in battle for so long and yet he was angry and confused. His life felt torturous.
So many from his small, sleepy town were lost to the war. What would he tell Sam’s parents? They would want to know every little detail about Sam’s life and his bravery and death. How would he handle his sister? Her fiancé, his childhood friend, died in the dreaded war that was meant to bring peace.
Then there was Lena, his childhood friend, who had lost her brother. She always sent him an endearing letter which warmed his heart during those dark, dreary nights at the camp. He was in love with her. Should he profess his love? Was it right to subject her to the pain of marrying a soldier?
There was Marie, who was expecting her third child when her husband, Mark, was called to war. What had that innocent child done to suffer this fate? The echoes of war seemed unending.
He was but a walking corpse.
His destination had arrived, and he alighted from his bus. It was a long walk home. He tried distracting himself from his brown study.
He remembered the forested walk home. A mango tree, the twin khaya trees, the hours of fun under the shade of those magnificent trees. The unending chatter of the chirpy mynas, the constant indulgence in public displays of affection of the coconut lorikeets, the sonorous singing of an oriole, the ripening mangoes. He thought he would pluck a juicy mango and relish it under the shade of those trees before he headed home to a hot meal.
Then the banyan tree, all bunched together in a way that gave it a dense forest feel, and the stories of ghosts and ghouls, fairies and wishes, snakes and charms, prayers and blessings that were attributed to the banyan.
He came to a clearing; he was certain the majestic mango tree stood there. He could not spot the tree. He walked a little further, where were the twin khaya trees? No sight of them too. Had he lost his way?
Where was the stately banyan? Frantic, he looked for the bauhinia blackeana, that tree too was missing! He had hoped to take a flower from the tree along with its butterfly shaped leaf for his spirited mum.
Distraught, disoriented, his hunger grew and grew and so did his anger.
Home was still a long way away; hunger and anger tormented him.
Just then he noticed a man walking towards him with an axe in hand. Death and destruction were nothing new to the soldier.
He remembered all the gore, killing of strangers, killing of fellow humans with whom he had no personal enmity.
In a moment of madness, he pulled his sword from the scabbard and hacked the man to pieces, his body collapsing on the ground. He was hungry, so hungry, and it looked like he wouldn’t be eating any mangoes or receiving any meals at home. He slowly sank down next to the body and looked at the hot, raw meat.
Why not? Why not take a bite? Was there such a large step between killing a man and eating his corpse? He knew the consequences of his action. Killing in the name of ‘peace’ was acceptable; why couldn’t he kill a man for food?
“Never let a man imagine that he can pursue a good end by evil means, without sinning against his own soul. The evil effect on himself is certain.” Robert Southey
