Welcome to Issue 28 of A Good Reputation, a newsletter about how to use storytelling to grow your brand. (Did someone send you? Subscribe here.)

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Hello Reader,

A friend messaged me recently about a problem I know all too well:

She notices everything. So much so that when it comes time to tell a story, she doesn’t know which thread to follow.

Every detail feels essential, every possible angle compelling. And cutting anything feels like risking misunderstanding or losing something important.

For her, this isn’t just a storytelling challenge—it’s an ADHD challenge. (Something I also can relate to.)

Because while a lot of storytelling and branding advice makes it sound easy (it's not), it rarely acknowledges the very real need to brainstorm, explore, and edit down in order to find the fundamental nugget in the first place.

I got a similar question from a founder trying to fundraise who's working on crafting a story for her pitch. "Which story do I choose—they all seem relevant and important?"

They are. And context matters. But boiling it down to "why this matters" to your audience at this moment matters most. (You got that?)

If you feel like you have too many options or too many possible directions, the real skill is knowing which story or anecdote belongs where and what you can save for later.

Here are a few ways I go from noticing everything to knowing what to use in each of my stories.

A Good Lesson

In last week’s newsletter, I talked about the power of noticing and having a system to capture what you notice.

In a nutshell: Storytelling starts with training your brain to catch small moments before they disappear into the blur of daily life.

While I got into the habit of collecting all these moments, ideas, and realizations, it took me a while to start connecting the dots with everything else I was doing.

Noticing alone, I realized, wasn't enough.

If you’re constantly collecting ideas but never sitting with them, you end up with a pile of raw ingredients and no recipe.

Reflection is how you make meaning. It’s how you connect the dots. It’s how you decide which story to tell and why.

And here’s where it gets trickier for neurodivergent thinkers:

For people with ADHD (as my friend pointed out), storytelling advice often skips the crucial step of the time it takes to brainstorm and edit down to the core idea in the first place.

So let’s talk about how to do that.

A Good Takeaway

You can build a story in two ways:

• Start with the meaning. You know the takeaway you want to deliver and find a story that illustrates it.
• Start with a moment. You notice something interesting and reflect on why it matters.

Neither is better. But if you struggle with too many ideas, starting with meaning can help you filter faster.

Ask: What’s the one idea I want my audience to walk away with? And, am I clear on who my audience wants and what they care about?

Once you have that, finding the right story becomes easier.

Matthew Dicks, a storytelling master, calls this the “five-second moment”—the instant when something shifts.

It’s the moment Indiana Jones closes his eyes in Raiders of the Lost Ark, realizing the Ark’s power is real. Or It’s the instant Dr. Grant goes from kid-averse scientist to protector in Jurassic Park.

It’s the moment you realize your life will never be the same. (And it can be a very small moment.)

Like yesterday, I pushed my eldest daughter beyond her comfort zone by encouraging her to go on a sketchy rope swing in the middle of the woods over some boulders. (I'm a terrible parent—I know.)

I can be a bit of an adrenaline junkie and—like my youngest daughter—I also have a high tolerance for risk. So, we both swung across those boulders and were fine.

Feeling pressured, my older daughter attempted it and slammed her knees into the rocks. She wasn't ready and I made her feel like a weenie for not trying.

My bad.

My five-second-moment of realization came after when she was crying and reminded me that we all have different levels of comfort when it comes to taking risks. Just because I feel comfortable doing stupid things, doesn't mean she should or made to feel cowardly because she's more calculated.

Just because I feel comfortable telling you about how I'm a bad parent on the internet doesn't mean you need to get all vulnerable and go there, too. (Yet.)

The takeaway here is this: Stories without transformation are just anecdotes. But when you find the shift, that’s your core.

Now, if your brain sees every possibility at once, you might need an intentional space to spill it all out before you refine it. Try:

• The 5-Minute Brain Dump: Write every possible angle, takeaway, and version of the story. No filtering.
• The Post-It Method: Write key moments on sticky notes and physically rearrange them until the structure clicks.
• The Voice Memo Trick: Talk it out first. You naturally simplify when speaking.

The goal isn’t to organize while brainstorming. It’s to separate the thinking stage from the editing stage so you don’t get stuck in decision paralysis.

Finally, it’s time to cut. If you’re over-explaining, it’s usually because you’re afraid of what will happen if you don’t.

Here’s how to strip a story down to its core:

• Summarize your story in one sentence. If you can’t, your angle isn’t sharp enough.
• Rewrite it in 10 words or fewer.
• Imagine someone asking, “What’s the point of that story?” Whatever you’d say before they walk away, that’s your takeaway.

To wrap this all up, I ultimately think that the root of this struggle isn’t just storytelling mechanics—it’s trust.

Trusting that your audience is smart enough to follow. Trusting that what you leave out is just as powerful as what you keep in. Trusting that one strong story is better than three half-told ones.

And, if you’re like me, there's also an element of feeling like you're missing an opportunity.

I feel this when I have a great story but it doesn’t fit the takeaway. Or when I know a moment is powerful but not quite relevant for the audience I’m speaking to.

To that end, I remind myself that I don’t have to use every story right now.

If a story doesn’t fit today, it will fit somewhere else. Or maybe it's just for me. Or my kids at the dinner table.

That’s the beauty of building a body of work. You’re not trying to squeeze everything into one piece. You get lots of chances to tell a story.

Save the ones that don’t fit. They’ll find their place.

A Few Good Resources

1. Need more proof that this practice is worthwhile? This lovely lady has journaled every day for 90 years, turning small daily moments into a lifetime of meaning.
2. I reflected on all things storytelling with David Young a while back and realized I never shared. And sharing is true caring—especially when someone takes the time to chat with you on their podcast.
3. What do a business strategist, branding expert, career coach, community leader, and content expert all have in common? They're joining me for the New Narratives retreat in May. We have 5 spots left if you want one.

Hope you have a good one,
Renee