Wren’s Nest Storytelling is Best of Atlanta 2007

As previously mentioned, the Wren’s Nest was included in Atlanta Magazine‘s Best of Atlanta 2007. We’re in the part that says “Family” in big Waffle House letters.

Here’s the picture of Curtis that floored me when I saw it–

(photo by Michael Cogliantry)

I had to crop it to fit it here, and even if I hadn’t the space wouldn’t do the photograph much justice. If anything, it’s one more reason to pick up an Atlanta Magazine and participate in our t-shirt contest extravaganza.

Anyway, look at that kid illuminated just to the left of Curtis. The kid who looks like he’s never been happier. This has quickly becoome one of my favorite pictures, mostly because of that kid’s laughter.

When I opened up the magazine and saw this picture, I immediately thought of three things–

1. With laughter like that, who needs a marketing budget?

Most folks with degrees in (or blogs about) things like marketing and P.R. will insist that marketing is merely “telling your story” to connect with your audience. I couldn’t agree more.

Luckily, we happen to be in the business of storytelling. That said, when people ask me how we manage to get press like we have, and I don’t have an answer. We don’t even really know how to write a press release.

The trick for us has been (and will continue to be), focusing on making our story a great one, and then letting others–like Atlanta Magazine or the Washington Post or the New York Times–do the rest.

If what you’re doing is remarkable, there’s no shortage of people willing to talk about you. Since Joel Chandler Harris put in the work a long time ago, the current staff of the Wren’s Nest has no problem coasting on his name.

2. One of my favorite scenes in television history.

Freaks and Geeks was an amazing show with a very short life–just one season. Probably for good reason, too: it was filled with insightful and poignant moments like this one:

It’s not exactly telling stories on a plantation, but maybe you can draw a parallel.

3. The words enscribed on Joel Chandler Harris’ grave.

“I seem to see before me the smiling faces of thousands of children some young and fresh and some wearing the friendly marks of age. But all children at heart and not an unfriendly face among them. And while I’m trying hard to speak the right word, I seem to hear a voice lifted above the rest saying you have made some of us happy. And so I feel my heart fluttering and my lips trembling, and I have to bow silently and turn away and hurry back into the obscurity that fits me best.”