Leaf-mould and Stock Pots

Act One, Scene 1: Enter Adam.

When Adam first arrived on the scene, his first great task was to name the animals. Language experts have plenty to say about this, but let’s keep it simple: names matter. Naming is a task the Lord uniquely granted to Adam and his descendants. So, in accord with the storied tradition (hah) of naming, Elli and I figured we would tell you why our blog is named The Stock Pot.

Tolkien’s Stock Pot

In his essay “On Fairy-Stories,” Tolkien talks about the origin of myth and fairytale. Imagine a pot of stock bubbling over the fire. Tolkien provides the image of authors, mythmakers, and storytellers tossing bones and vegetables into a boiling stew. Over time, these jumbled up stories and myths not only provide their own flavor but are steeped in the flavor of other, older stories. As writers, Elli and I want to be conscious of the classics and stories that have come before us.

If you prefer another metaphor, Tolkien writes elsewhere that the creation of stories is not  “out of the leaves of trees still to be observed, nor by means of botany and soil-science; but it grows like a seed in the dark out of the leaf-mould of the mind: out of all that has been seen or thought or read, that has long ago been forgotten, descending into the deeps.” Storytelling is shaped by everything we’ve read, seen, talked about, and experienced. That is what composes the “leaf-mould of the mind.” But let’s be honest, “The Stock Pot” sounds way more appetizing than “Leaf-mould.” And the British spelling is distressing, anyway.

Think of storytelling like a stew. Every book, conversation, class lecture, and experience is a new ingredient in our cupboard we can use to create a new, rich, and exciting dish.

The Supper of the Lamb and Storytelling

Father Capone has a great section in The Supper of the Lamb meditating on the nature of stock. Though the ingredients are simple, the end result can be rich, flavorful dishes. Like writing, the creation of good stock requires patience and attention to detail. Not only that, but “The making of stock must not be thought of as an occasional act. In every well-regulated household, it will be lifted to the status of a habit.” In the Miller household, we read and talk about stories constantly. We want our writing to be a habit. This means engaging in plodding, faithful work: 100 words a day is much better than 1000 words sometimes, when we get around to it, when my throat isn’t scratchy, when the stars align…

Our Own Humble Offering

The storyteller must recognize that this world is flavored with old stories. Will your storytelling add to the flavor or clash with it? Will you ignore the old songs and throw your own banana peel into the stew, or will your story be enhanced by the sharp spices of the Iliad and the sweet tang of Austen? Since we’re on a roll with metaphors, let’s add another. Are you so obsessed with playing your own song that you are a discordant note in the great concert that is Story, started by the great Conductor himself? 

The Stock Pot blog is our own humble offering to the Cauldron of Story. Let it boil and simmer and suck out the marrow, conscious of the delicious aromas of the old stories and myths already bubbling away. Our writing must be habitual: to become a master at anything requires consistent, faithful practice. Everyone wants to have written, but nobody wants to write. And as we continue to write and improve our craft, we are confident in the promises of the Lord: “Do you see a man skillful in his work? He will stand before kings; he will not stand before obscure men.” All of this is a sacrifice to Him.