Storyline: Conference, Day One
“Did you come from a cold, wet place?” Donald Miller asks. A murmur of laughter ripples through the room. “That’s awesome,” he says, laughing. The weather in San Diego is in the mid-sixties today, and everyone I’ve met so far at the Storyline conference has reveled in it. “That part is free,” Miller quips.
Miller has a smile his mouth can barely contain. He strolls back and forth across a half-moon dais, obviously delighted to be here. Behind him, the space has been set to look cozy: a pair of cushy leather chairs fronted by a glass coffee table, a round cafe table flanked by two short metal stools, tall plastic ficus trees in august gray urns, an antique book cabinet with dust-dimmed glass. It could be his own portable neighborhood coffee shop if not for the massive movie screen that hangs behind him.
“The most powerful stories are people,” Miller says. “What will the world miss if you don’t tell your story?” His question hangs in the air like a static charge and appears onscreen in letters as big as Miller’s head.
Read on, Macduff, at Scholars & Rogues.
Miller has a smile his mouth can barely contain. He strolls back and forth across a half-moon dais, obviously delighted to be here. Behind him, the space has been set to look cozy: a pair of cushy leather chairs fronted by a glass coffee table, a round cafe table flanked by two short metal stools, tall plastic ficus trees in august gray urns, an antique book cabinet with dust-dimmed glass. It could be his own portable neighborhood coffee shop if not for the massive movie screen that hangs behind him.
“The most powerful stories are people,” Miller says. “What will the world miss if you don’t tell your story?” His question hangs in the air like a static charge and appears onscreen in letters as big as Miller’s head.
Read on, Macduff, at Scholars & Rogues.