About me
I was 5, and in a classroom full of little faces. We all had to describe our room. When it was my turn, I don’t know why, but instead of describing my small room with my bed and toys, I told everyone that I had a submarine in it.
Don’t picture a giant one! It was a small yellow two-seater, for exploring the depths of the ocean.
I also told them that I had giant slides in my room and that we hung my bed over a pool underneath. I couldn’t stop. They all fixed me with their little eyes. I had never felt that before. Everyone hung up on my words, and it was incredible. I imagined a brand new children’s room from scratch just to get their attention. It was the first time I discovered the power of storytelling.
Of course, I continued to tell stories. Everyone would fall silent when I recounted my adventures. Well, in reality, I hadn’t experienced everything I talked about. I didn’t have a submarine in my room. But it was priceless to see their faces connecting to my stories.
With the years passing, my stories felt repetitive. People realized that some of my stories were fake, and the genuine stories I had lived were on a constant loop in my mouth. Story after story, the aura I had built up faded, and I became a quiet student again.
I was too young to understand, but I was just bad at telling stories. I only remembered the ones that worked and repeated them to people just to see their faces as they experienced my adventures.
One day, my father called me on his computer. I was lucky, my father had access to state-of-the-art computers (for that time, anyway). He showed me his screen, and I saw a software with a bunch of strange buttons. I liked video games, so I thought he was showing me a new game he had found for me. But this one, I didn’t know, so I scanned the screen to find the title of the game: Windows Movie Maker.
“And what does it do?”
I didn’t understand what it was, so my father explained it was a software for making videos. I stare at the screen with my eyes full of crazy ideas.
Does that mean I can make movies?
Like the ones on TV?
We had a family camera that I sometimes borrowed for fun (sorry if you’re reading this, Dad). I would sneak into their room and recreate action scenes from the movies I had just seen.
The problem was that the camera recorded on analog tapes, while the editing software only accepted digital footage. My father suggested we buy a magical cable to connect the two, but we never did.
Who knows, if we had, I might have become the next Spielberg.
With no films to edit, I cut pieces from other videos I found on the internet. Poor them, if they had seen the masterpieces I made from their videos.
Then everything fell into place. As “digital cameras” become more accessible, I could get my hands on one. Imagine my excitement when I realized I could film whatever I wanted! From Windows Movie Maker to Vegas Pro, from an analog camera to a digital one. What could stop me now? Well, nothing. I quickly became the king of tricks and parkour. I filmed my friends doing backflips and incredible acrobatics, and then it was my turn to be recorded. Honestly, I wasn’t the best at jumping high, but my videos were awesome!
“Child’s play is cool, but I’m 18 now, and it’s time to work like an adult. Because I need to make money and stop dreaming.”
Five years, five long years during which I didn’t touch a video editing software or a camera. Because I had to conform, right? Fortunately, I still had some adventures here and there to get my storytelling (legal) drugs.
One day, life doing its things, I created a training business. Business means videos. Do you see where I’m going with this?
Without hesitation, I reinstalled Vegas Pro. Because I was still an expert in video editing after five years. Actually, no. It’s not as simple as “riding a bike.” I needed to catch up. And the editing of the videos for my business didn’t excite me that much. Cutting pieces of video to line them up one after the other wasn’t as cool as it sounded…
If only I could tell my younger self how ignorant I was. Because placing pieces of videos next to each other, a 15-year-old could do that easily. But telling a story, deciding to cut a shot 2 frames earlier to create tension, not everyone could do that, kid!
Fortunately, one day, I met the one who would change the way I told my stories. It had four propellers and weighed about 500 grams. It could reach a height of 200 meters. But I stayed within the legal limit, I promise… It had a 1080p camera, and the footage it could capture was amazing.
“Wait, can I tell stories with a drone? In full HD?”
It didn’t take long for me to buy a new camera. I had rediscovered the kid who wanted to tell stories. Every day, I needed to turn this thing on and capture something. Even my simple front door became the star of my films. My cats were tired of me filming their everyday move (sleeping all day…).
When I wasn’t home, and the camera wasn’t in my hand. I was like undressed. Something was missing. We should merge this with my hand!
After only a few days, I saw all the potential future we had, my camera and I. I mean, I can’t fail now, can I? I have an amazing camera, and I tell stories so well.
“Um, no, actually…”
Because I had developed this bad habit of only telling stories that worked without asking myself why they worked. It was a wake-up call. After all, I had a camera that had cost me all my savings. It should work! If only…
If only I had taken the time to understand that telling a story is a skill you can learn. It’s not about the content of the story but how you tell it! The structure, the tension, the climax, and the resolution. It’s not for nothing that being a screenwriter is a separate profession. Some people can tell deep stories with their phones, while others have cinema cameras and don’t know what to do with them.
Fortunately, I have a superpower. The ability to become obsessed with a skill I want. I had to do everything to become one of the best editors specializing in storytelling.
Because who needs a yellow two-seaters submarine, when you can tell stories!