I used to hate writing. I still do somewhat. In high school, English was consistently my worst subject. Coincidentally, it was the subject with the most amount of writing. But at the end of my junior year, I was given an assignment that changed my outlook on writing. I had to emulate the tone of a short story with personal stories. While writing this particular essay, I had an epiphany: write in a way that I stayed interested. I realized that I hated writing because I hated the way I wrote. So, I changed. I wrote like I thought. Short sentences with no verbs. Breaking rules left and right while trying to keep a semblance of syntax. It was the first ever perfect score I got on an essay.

I built off that throughout my college career by implementing aspects of my favorite movies: introductions that are cold yet strong, and succinct quotes. Then arrived another challenge: scientific communication. In a world where information density is key, I had to prioritize substance over style.

And this is where my first lesson from Davis comes in. It came in three words: and, but, and therefore.

Stories are not just a list of inconsequential events. They are a series of events that lead to one another. A sequence that flows from tension to resolution. I learned at SACNAS that stories in science do in fact matter. It was at Davis that I learned that my science is also a story, a technical story.

The key to my story, like any story, is the conflict. What motivated my project? This is the “but” statement, the catalyst to my project and every other story. Plot wise, it’s the central question of the story. In Jurassic Park, it’s John Hammond needing to prove to investors that the park is, in fact, safe. In my case, it is not knowing that the function of RAD54B, a relatively unexplored protein, holds in homologous recombination.

If there is unanswered tension, then there must be an effort to resolve it. “Therefore” is the solution or what it might entail. How does Hammond try to solve the tension in Jurassic Park? He recruits two paleontologists to survey the island’s safety and overall viability as a tourist destination. Notice that I did not say any specifics about the tour or the overall plot. An effective “therefore” allows for elaboration and questioning.

When crafting my “therefore” statement (creating a construct to purify RAD54B and doing biochemical characterizations), I’ve found the times I was most effective with it were also the times I received the most questions.

This is inherently part of the structure. When “but”  works, it piques the interest and begs for something to build off of it. “Therefore” is the payoff which opens up a million possibilities but only one is traversed (with technicalities of course).

The “but” and “therefore” clauses should state the reason for the journey and what the journey entails  It is the central part of the story. But where does “and” come in? “And” is the exposition. It’s what the audience needs to know to understand the conflict (“but”) and resolution (“therefore”). Going back to Jurassic Park, it’s the opening scene with the dinosaur handlers. From that scene, I understood that the park’s safety precautions aren’t enough. With my project, my exposition changed a lot. Sometimes I would start broadly with why DNA repair is needed. Sometimes I would just explain homologous recombination. Ultimately, I ended my “and” statements with the premise that RAD54B was relatively unexplored within the realm of homologous recombination.

In essence, for Jurassic Park, the “and, but, therefore” structure entails this:

AND: John Hammond builds a theme park of genetically engineered dinosaurs.

BUT: But one night, an incident occurs while transferring some dinosaurs, resulting in bodily harm to the workers even with precautions in place.

THEREFORE: Due to this incident, the investors want to see whether it is viable for the park to open to the public. Therefore, Hammond recruits experts to tour the island to see whether the park is safe.

Pretty succinct summary of the premise of the plot. If this were a full synopsis, the “therefore” clause would be larger because there’s more to talk about.

Let’s try another:

AND: I used to hate writing. I still do somewhat. In high school, English was consistently my worst subject. Coincidentally, it was the subject with the most amount of writing.

BUT: But at the end of my junior year, I was given an assignment that changed my outlook on writing. I had to emulate the tone of a short story with personal stories.

THEREFORE: While writing this particular essay, I had an epiphany: write in a way that I stayed interested. I realized that I hated writing because I hated the way I wrote. So, I changed. I wrote like I thought. Short sentences with no verbs. Breaking rules left and right while trying to keep a semblance of syntax. It was the first ever perfect score I got on an essay.

And another:

AND: I built off that throughout my college career by implementing aspects of my favorite movies:  introductions that are cold yet strong, and succinct quotes.

BUT: Then arrived another challenge: scientific communication. In a world where information density is key, I had to prioritize substance over style.

THEREFORE: And this is where my first lesson from Davis comes in. It came in three words: and, but and therefore.

While storytelling is an art, the science of storytelling is not about the structure of effective narratives but about trial and error. Failures and triumph. Tension and resolution. Stories at their most reductive are problems and how to solve them. But your story is your own. You dictate how you tell it. You don’t have to use the words “and”, “but”, or “therefore” with your story; it is merely a shortcut. It’s like doing a procedure in lab: there is a general protocol but to understand a phenomenon, you must use samples and reagents specific to the question to fill the gap in knowledge. Through repeating the general protocol, you gain a style of how to proceed like I did when writing. You will figure out a way to tell it that not only satisfies the audience but yourself most of all.

Your story is yours. Your story matters. Tell it the way you like, the way you want it told. Learn from it. Be confident in it. Cherish it. Why? Because the most important part about storytelling is staying true to yourself.

 

Photo: Tyrannosaurus rex skull on loan from the Museum of the Rockies to the National Museum of American History; Donald E. Hurlbert / Smithsonian.