Zee JLF: People in India take ghost stories more seriously, says performance storyteller Cat Weatherill

Performance storyteller and author Cat Weatherill says she has a “head full of stories” and loves telling them in her bold, lyrical and expressive way. On the sidelines of the Zee Jaipur Literature Festival, she talks to Shraddha Panicker about the spoken and the written word as well as details about her next book which will be set in Goa. 

What is your earliest memory of a story?
My dad was a natural storyteller. He would come home from work and tell entertaining stories about the people he worked with. But I don’t think I have any memory of being read to at bedtime, although I should check with my mother! I was always a very good reader though, so my parents possibly just let me get on with it because I was capable of it by the time I was five. 

Was it anything you read in particular at that young age that sparked your love for stories? 
It was probably a little book I was given as a child called ‘Susan’s Secret Garden’ which was about a little girl who lived on the backstreets and then moves with her family to a house that has a big garden and a cat. I remember thinking it was very magical, because soon after I read the book, my family moved to a house with a garden and I got a cat! So it seemed extraordinary to me then and gave a sense that dreams could come true. 

I notice several recurring references to cats, even in the Japanese story you just performed. Would you call yourself a ‘cat person’ then? 
I’m more a dog person actually! (laughs) I love dogs, but I have a lot of connection with cats too, yes. 

You mentioned that even though you grew up in Liverpool, amidst the football and music scene, it wasn’t as exciting as it sounds..
It was a very ordinary childhood I think, and we moved further out from Liverpool after a while. We didn’t have a very big family and my brother and I were fairly solitary. I would be in my room reading and writing, and he would play records, even going on to become a successful DJ. So we were able to produce that in isolation. 

So is the idea of the ‘solitary artist’ true then? Do you think one has to be isolated in order to produce good work? 
I think the idea of a ‘solitary tortured artist’ might be a dangerous way of thinking. If you start limiting yourself in any way, it’s not helpful. It’s also one of the interesting things I’ve discovered in my last five weeks in Goa, where my next book is based. 

Can you tell us more about that?
I’ve written children’s books before, but this will be my first book for adults. So it was an interesting experience gathering material for it in Goa. It’s also a complete departure in other ways because I’m a fantasy writer and this book is more autobiographical. It’s the first time I’m writing this kind of ‘fictionalised truth’, if that term makes sense. 

Do you find writing for children easier than writing for adults? 
I don’t believe for a minute that it is easier writing for children, because they are very demanding and know what they like. They often demand clarity, strong lines and magic. But in a sense writing for adults is more daunting, which is more to do with personal issues of confidence. Is it going to be clever enough? Is the language going to be sophisticated enough? This is of course a bizarre thought to have, but it’s one of those things you simply will not know until you try it. 

Tell us about putting together a piece of spoken word performance versus working on the written word -- your books. 
There is a difference in structure and the way you put the stories together. In performance storytelling, people can’t go back and reread if they lose the thread of a story, like in a book. So there needs to be a certain simplicity of narrative line to keep the story going.  

Do you prefer one form over the other? 
I am a natural performer, so that is my primary form of expression. I do like being on stage and communicating and sharing. But I love writing books because they reach far more people, open doors and allow me to travel. 

Is there a lot of practice that goes into performing a story? 
If I’m working on a show, yes. But ultimately, getting in front of the audience is what shapes the story. It soon becomes apparent what’s working and what’s not. The nice thing about storytelling is that even while you’re telling the story, there a part of your brain that is just reading expressions and you can see who is with you and what is engaging them. So it’s not something you can plan too much and is very fluid. 

Tell us about the craziest response you’ve got after a performance.
I frequently have people in tears – good tears. They’re moved or touched in some way and want to share it. The most vocal audiences I’ve encountered have been in Africa, where they like to tell the story with you and will shout things out! So that has a completely different energy and is quite exciting. 
It’s one of the nice things about travelling with stories, sometimes the audience will surprise you. I was telling a story in Denmark once and the audience suddenly laughed at a point where no one has before and you could have seen the surprise on my face! So the same story can be received quite differently in different parts of the world. 

You’ve performed in India before, how do people respond to your stories here?
Yes, it’s my third trip to India and hopefully won’t be my last. I’ve performed at the Hay Festival in Kerala, the Kahani festival in Jaipur the year before last and also Ludhiana. 
In India, I find that people take ghost stories more seriously than they do in the UK! To you it’s far more alive, so obviously the way you listen to it is quite different. Indian audiences also like the sharing of wisdom; they enjoy hearing it being stated in a very explicit way. They do seem to respond very well to what I would call inspirational speaking. I noticed in my performance at Zee JLF, when I talked about reading being a Golden Ticket, they were moved to applaud at the end. So what the Indians really relish is a personal opinion expressed well.
One of the good things about coming to India is that the people here are so expressive. I could read the expressions of the girls sitting in front during my performance, when a certain thing sparked for them in the story, it absolutely showed on their faces. It’s lovely to have an audience that is so clearly with you and willing play along with you. So it’s always a joy to perform here.  

You talked about growing up without television or internet and having a childhood filled with books. Do you worry that this is not the case with children these days?
I don’t think children are being listened to these days because parents are constantly distracted with phones and I-pads and checking messages. It’s very important to listen when a child comes home from school and starts telling the story of what happened during the day because it’s a very important part of the child’s development. It’s how they begin processing all their new experiences and expressing their view of the world. Sorting the information, putting it sequentially and then retelling it is an incredible and complex skill. So if a child is not listened to, all of that shuts down and not only do you lose the personal contact, the interplay between humans, but you also losing developing in them those cognitive skills which is crucial at that age. 
I find that people these days listen in order to reply, not because they’re interested which is like cutting the story and conversation. So in a way, listening is being lost. There is too much talking and not enough listening. Of course I’ve been guilty of it myself, but sometimes one realises that one must just stop and listen.