How to Help Long-Winded Narrators Be Concise

Raise your hand if you have a child (or two or five) who is verbose? Whose narrations seem to take longer than the initial reading? This is a mixed blessing. On the one hand, we’re so relieved after working with the child whose narrations consist of “that king didn’t like that other king and so they went to war and the king won the end.” The long-winded narrator is noticing all the details and recalling them. It’s rather amazing!

Alas, it’s also often too much. The other children are beginning to line up and still the child is droning on and on about every little detail, no matter how small.

Surely something can be done?

I want to manage your expectations. In the younger years, I don’t think much can or even should be done. He has just learned to narrate, after all. We can get creative with narrations. And, occasionally, I will give a time limit. (“This reading took 15 minutes, so let’s see if you can tell me the important parts in 7 minutes.”) But that is the extent of it.

But later on, when the long-winded child has begun to do written narrations, we encounter a problem. You see, this child is verbose on paper, too, and now she’s writing a five-page essay for her daily narration.

This is not okay.

It was in my use of Classical Composition (back when I was CM-ing the progym) — in Narrative Stage — and there was this simple little exercise that was life changing for my first long-winded narrator. I anticipate doing this with my other long-winded narrator in a couple years.

The exercise is so simple — it’s called a reduction — and yet so effective because it helps the child sort out which details are and are not important.

Start with a short story. Let’s use part of a chapter from Our Island Story called How King Alfred Learned to Read:

One day when Alfred, the youngest son of King Ethelwulf, was quite a tiny boy, he was playing with his big brothers, while Osburga, his mother, sat watching them, and reading.

The book she read was one of old English songs. Osburga was very fond of these songs, and used to say them to her little boys when they were tired of play. It was a pretty book, full of pictured and bright letters in gold, and blue, and red.

As Osburga turned the pages Alfred saw the pretty pictures, so he left his play, and came to lean against his mother’s knee, to look at them.

“What a pretty book it is, mother!” he said.

“Do you like it, little one?” said Osburga.

“Yes, mother, I do,” replied Alfred.

Then all the other boys came crowding round their mother to see the pretty book too. They pressed against her, and leaned over her shoulder till nothing was to be seen but five curly heads close together.

“Oh, isn’t it lovely!” they said, as Osburga slowly turned the pages, explaining the pictures, and letting them look at the beautiful colored letters at the beginnings of the songs.

When Osburga saw how they all liked the book, she was very much pleased. She pushed them all away from her a little, and looked round their happy eager faces. You see in those days even kings’ sons had no picture-books, such as every child has now, and it was quite a treat for these princes to be allowed to look at this beautiful one.

“Do you truly like this book?” asked Osburga.

“Oh yes, mother, we do,” they all answered at once.

“Then, boys,” she said, “I will give it to the one who first learns to read it.”

“O mother, do you mean it? May I try too?” asked Alfred.

“Yes, I do mean it, and, of course, you may try,” answered Osburga, smiling at him. And perhaps she hoped that he would win the prize, for both his father and his mother loved Alfred best of all their children.

And Alfred did win the prize. He was so eager to have the book that he worked hard all day long. And one morning, while his big brothers were still trying to read the book, he came to his mother and read it without making any mistakes.

Then Osburga kissed him and gave him the prize, as she had promised.

Print it out on a sheet of paper and hand the child a pencil. The child’s job is to go through and cross out any detail that is not important. The finished product might look something like this:

One day when Alfred, the youngest son of King Ethelwulf, was quite a tiny boy, he was playing with his big brothers, while Osburga, his mother, sat watching them, and reading.
The book she read was one of old English songs. Osburga was very fond of these songs, and used to say them to her little boys when they were tired of play. It was a pretty book, full of pictured and bright letters in gold, and blue, and red.

As Osburga turned the pages Alfred saw the pretty pictures, so he left his play, and came to lean against his mother’s knee, to look at them.

“What a pretty book it is, mother!” he said.

“Do you like it, little one?” said Osburga.

“Yes, mother, I do,” replied Alfred.

Then all the other boys came crowding round their mother to see the pretty book too. They pressed against her, and leaned over her shoulder till nothing was to be seen but five curly heads close together.

“Oh, isn’t it lovely!” they said, as Osburga slowly turned the pages, explaining the pictures, and letting them look at the beautiful colored letters at the beginnings of the songs.

When Osburga saw how they all liked the book, she was very much pleased. She pushed them all away from her a little, and looked round their happy eager faces. You see in those days even kings’ sons had no picture-books, such as every child has now, and it was quite a treat for these princes to be allowed to look at this beautiful one.

“Do you truly like this book?” asked Osburga.

“Oh yes, mother, we do,” they all answered at once.

“Then, boys,” she said, “I will give it to the one who first learns to read it.”

“O mother, do you mean it? May I try too?” asked Alfred.

“Yes, I do mean it, and, of course, you may try,” answered Osburga, smiling at him. And perhaps she hoped that he would win the prize, for both his father and his mother loved Alfred best of all their children.

And Alfred did win the prize. He was so eager to have the book that he worked hard all day long. And one morning, while his big brothers were still trying to read the book, he came to his mother and read it without making any mistakes.

Then Osburga kissed him and gave him the prize, as she had promised.

You might go over this together, discussing and cutting even more if possible.

After this, the child copies the new version over by hand.

And then you can talk together. One thing that might be discussed is why or why not to cross the word “big” in “big brothers.” I would argue it needs to appear at least once because it is significant that Alfred won the prize, even though he was the youngest of the brothers. Likewise, it is probably significant that the pictures were pretty — this is what made it desirable to the boys. But, again, I chose to cross out all of the instances of the word “pretty” save one.

The goal is to get to the essence of the story of how Alfred learned to read. If our goal were different — say, to explain how warm and caring of a mother Alfred had, we might cross out and keep different details. We can talk about that, too.

I had my verbose narrator do this once per week for at least a term, if not longer. It helped a whole big bunch, and he still references this exercise regularly to this day.