It started with a dress.
In 1926, a picture in American Vogue altered the course of fashion. Coco Chanel took a colour reserved for mourning and made it the sharpest thing in a woman’s wardrobe. The Little Black Dress was stitched together by rebellion.
But Chanel didn’t invent a trend out of thin air. She noticed what was already shifting beneath the surface, how women were growing restless inside the trappings of fashion’s old rules. She turned this untold story into a statement piece.
The best brand stories work the same way.
They aren’t born from inspiration in brainstorms. Or post rationalised through slogans and mission statements. They are found (slowly, stubbornly) by the people willing to listen. They’re pulled from threads that already exist.
And when writers learn to find these threads, we stop producing surface-level copy that adds to the churn of tired ideas, and we start building story-worlds that increase income, deepen engagement and set brands apart.
Finding the thread of an organisation’s story is the difference between a message that’s heard for a moment, and a narrative that’s remembered for years.
This is a three-part series that will show you how to find, tell and grow these stories.
In this first article, let me show you how to start pulling at threads and find stories people rally around.
“It’s Alive, it’s Alive.”
Not learning from Dr Frankenstein’s mistakes, the creative industry has created its own monsters.
We beat drums about brands being unoriginal, uninventive and uninspired and yet, when we tell stories, we lazily grab at our recycled ideas, borrowed frameworks and tired buzzwords.
Yes, deadlines and budgets are tighter. Sure, competition is more fierce. I know, more companies need more content. Yet we obsess over colour palettes and key messages before we know who brands really are.
Optimisation is trumping understanding.
Strong stories are surfaced rather than built. The work isn’t to invent them – it’s to dig them out, dust them off, and listen hard to what they want to be.
When we’re looking for stories, we’re looking for identity. What a brand really stands for. Believes. What they’d be willing to lose sleep over.
So how do we find them? We look for the threads. And in my experience, there are three that matter most:
1) truth
2) tension
3) transformation
The Thread of Truth
Truth is the bedrock. It’s not a positioning statement, a promise, or a beautifully crafted line in a deck. Truth doesn’t care about adjectives. It doesn’t flex to fit trends. It just is. And when you find it, everything else starts to make sense.
But truth is often buried under performance. Under the need to impress. It hides behind words like "innovation," "authentic," and "mission-led."
Truth doesn’t use those words. Truth is messier. Specific. It’s the reason someone walked away from a safe job to build something no one asked for. It’s the way the product actually gets used – not how it's marketed. It's what the customer tells their friend, not what the brand tells the market.
To find it, you have to dig deeper. Look at origin stories and stress points. Talk to people who’ve been there from the beginning. Read between the lines of early communications. Ask what keeps them going when things aren’t working. Because truth shows up when no one’s watching.
A great example of a brand rooted in a great truth is Finisterre. They make hard-wearing outerwear. But their truth isn’t about staying warm in the sea or being dry on the beach.
It’s about standing in North Atlantic gales on a rugged headland and feeling alive. It’s about a community built on the romanticism of the sea, the cold, the cliff edge and people’s relationship with it all.
Finisterre’s truth isn’t simply a positioning paragraph on their website. It lives in every stitch.
Debbie Luffman, who was Product & Sustainability Director for Finisterre (from its earliest days) for over 13 years, says, “We simply lived it. The product was born and shaped from being outside in the elements and in the sea, our imagery was captured from doing what we loved, our models were our friends, our suppliers were like family. The brand was about commitment from the start, built on a conscious choice to do things differently, because we genuinely believed in a better way of making clothes, of telling stories and building a community.”
Where to Find Truth
Sometimes, truth lives in the gap between what a brand offers and how people actually use it. A meal kit that becomes a lifeline for overworked parents. A dating app that reconnects old friends. What a product is for and what it’s used for aren’t always the same thing.
Other times, truth shows up through limitation. The niche brand that refuses to scale. The business that never runs discounts. The company that says no more often than yes. These aren’t quirks of personality. They’re decisions grounded in belief.
Look at Oatly. Their truth isn’t, "we make oat milk." It’s, "the dairy industry is broken, and we're not afraid to say so."
That conviction shapes everything, from their packaging to their tone of voice to their willingness to pick fights in public. You don’t have to agree with them. But you can’t deny what they believe.
Sometimes truth is found in what a brand protects. Its non-negotiables. The things it won’t compromise on even when it would be easier, faster, or more profitable to do so. It might be a manufacturing process. A design choice. A sourcing decision. Something small but sacred.
Why Truth Matters
Truth is a compass. It doesn’t always point to the fastest route. But it always points to the right one. And often, the brands that last are ones that know exactly where they’re heading.
Research backs this up. Brands that consistently tell their story can see up to a 20% increase in brand value. Customers are drawn to consistency, and that begins with having something real to be consistent about.
When you uncover that kind of truth, you have something rare: a centre of gravity. Not a gimmick. Not a campaign hook. Something the brand can return to, over and over again. Something to build a story-world around, so employees and customers know exactly what they’re buying into.
Our job as writers is to recognise the truth when we hear it. And have the courage to say, “This. This is the story.”
The Thread of Tension
Tension is what gives a story stakes. It’s what makes it worth telling. What gives it motion.
Go watch any film. The hero is trying to overcome something at every turn. If they hop the hurdle, a new obstacle crops up. Our brains know the formula, and tune out if the script doesn’t deliver.
So why do so many brands try to smooth out their stories? To remove the edges when tension is what gives stories shape? Without tension, we’re describing things. With it, we’re asking people to go on a journey.
Every good brand has a tension running through it. Even if they don't admit it. Especially if they don't admit it.
Tension shows up in the friction between values and reality. It’s the gap between a company’s intentions and the world it operates in. That might sound like a liability, but it’s actually where most of the emotional charge lives. People don’t fall for perfection. We fall for honesty, for complexity, for effort.
Take One Planet Pizza. They’re underdogs. A father and son team taking on the household names of frozen food. They’re vegan in a country where 73% of the population still eat animal products. Their entire brand is based on tension. Can they win? Can they convert carnivores? Can they meet their goals?
They lean into these tensions, because tension sells. Tension sets them apart. Tension builds a pizza fan base.
I asked Joe, Co-Founder of One Planet Pizza, about building his brand on tension. He said:
“From day dot me and my Dad have always loved the quote: ‘If you don't stand for something, you'll fall for anything.’ We’ve built our business on the rock solid foundations of our own personal ethics: veganism, kindness and compassion. That's what will always set us apart in a crowded market. The big boys can never copy that authenticity and that almost tribal mentality of fighting for a better world despite the odds. Every one die-hard, loyal vegan customer is worth 100 regular pizza shoppers. We use that energy and passion to build a brand that other people can't help but want to be part of.”
Where to Find Tension
Other tensions are quieter. A heritage brand trying to reinvent itself for a new generation. A disruptor who suddenly becomes the status quo. A joyful product that also raises questions about sustainability.
Tension can be born from frustration with the way things are. Tension can be holding a different belief. It can be a complete 180 from the tried and tested, or a smaller step. It can be a dress.
Tension can be zagging while the competition zigs. Another example for the plant-based market is a new product from THIS. The brand competes (successfully) in the fake-meat sector.
But their latest product isn’t trying to be fake meat. It’s a superfood made from whole foods because people are growing wary of overly-processed foods. They’ve sidestepped into a new segment by understanding the tension.
Tension isn’t something to fix. It’s something to explore.
Why Tension Matters
Building a brand around a tension shows the company has a point of view. To customers, it signals a real, often unspoken struggle. And a company willing to take a stand. To employees, it gives the work meaning. It’s not just what they do, it’s what they’re pushing against.
Tension becomes a source of energy, a reason to care, a reason to try. No tension, no story. Just noise. And the data backs it up. Narrative persuasion theory shows that people are more likely to be moved by stories that contain emotional conflict.
As writers, our job isn’t to resolve every tension. It’s to name it. To ask why it matters. Who it affects. What it reveals. Because if truth is the heart of a story, tension is what makes it beat.
The Thread of Transformation
Transformation is the third thread that can set a brand’s story apart. It’s the emotional arc, the shift, the reason people remember. It shines a Batman-style spotlight on what happens when the brand shows up.
Transformation is where the story moves from being about the brand to being about the person reading it.
It’s where a customer sees themselves in the narrative. Where a potential client or customer thinks: “Oh wait, that’s me. That’s what I want”.
We buy things to show others who we are, what we believe, what we want to become.
Here’s an example of a strategic positioning project for 200º Coffee during my time at 3800. In 10 years, the company had grown from an indie start-up to a multi-site chain with ambitious growth plans. The insight that unlocked the project was how 200º facilitated people’s coffee journeys.
This wasn’t a brand for aficionados who knew their altitudes apart, it was for people who wanted to leave Starbucks behind and try something new. It was for those buying their first bag of beans. No one was playing in this space and being a facilitator of transformation.
Following secret shopper visits, barista training, conversations with owners, staff and customers, we developed a new brand persona (the people’s educator), values, playbook for staff, and a strapline (the home of better coffee). All designed to show people where the brand could take them.
I asked Will Kenney, Commercial Director at 200º Coffee to reflect on the work. He said, “Everyone can get their head around mission statements, values etc. but they rarely make people feel part of the wider narrative or resonate with them personally. Storytelling to bring these words to life is something that should be accessible across an entire organisation, because it’s so valuable to the culture and to reinforce the purpose. The why.
“A big question for us is always ‘How do we use storytelling to make sure the ethos of the business pulls through, even as we scale and daily face-to-face contact becomes more difficult?’
“This process certainly highlighted that one of the toughest obstacles a business can face is simplifying everything into a singular kernel of truth. You need that thread to keep coming back to.
“Ours was understanding and celebrating that we’ve always been a brand who educates without lecturing or posturing. Making coffee more accessible and being generous with our time and our knowledge has huge value to us, both emotionally and commercially.
Where to Find Transformation
To find transformation, you need to look for the thing behind the thing.
Take meditation apps. They’re not selling meditation. They’re offering peace. The app is the mechanism. The real transformation is internal.
Even everyday products offer transformation. A shirt can make someone feel seen. A notebook can help someone feel grounded. A haircut can boost someone’s confidence.
Why Transformation Matters
People respond when a brand highlights transformation. According to one survey, 55% of consumers are more likely to buy from a brand they connect with emotionally.
44% said they’d share a good brand story. That’s not just reach. That’s resonance.
Transformation can be subtle. It can be aspirational. But if it’s named clearly, it becomes a promise. One that invites people in.
A good transformation story says, “We see where you are, and we know where you want to go. Let us take you there.” The brand becomes a mirror and a guide. And for employees it’s a signal that their work has weight. That they’re part of a movement.
So for us writers, we need to find transformative stories that people can step into and feel like it was written just for them.
Joining the Threads
Stories are messy.
In my experience, the creative industry is fantastic at telling short stories. 30-second ads. OOH posters. Brand positioning paragraphs.
But building a story-world is hard. Because brands are never just one thread. The magic happens when threads are woven together. When truth, tension, and transformation intersect, you get more than a story. You get the opportunity to build advocacy and loyalty because you’ve written a story that’s about a human truth, rather than a product or service.
This kind of story doesn’t need to be loud. It doesn’t beg for attention, but people lean in. Not because it’s flashy, but because it feels real. Because it touches something they didn’t have the words for.
The best brand stories don’t feel like marketing. And that’s our job, as writers, strategists and storytellers. To listen for the pulse beneath the fluff. To notice what others overlook. To ask the second question, and then the third.
Because the story is never missing. It’s just tangled. Buried. Half-spoken. Unclaimed. Ask the right questions, keep pulling, and you’ll find the thread.
And when you do, everything starts to make sense.
A Post Script
I’ve been lucky. I’ve managed to push past the quick turnaround briefs and the clients who want everything done yesterday. I’ve worked with people willing to ask and answer the stubborn questions.
I’ve had the chance to tell some strategically sound, beautifully creative stories because clients and teams have been willing to invest in doing the right thing. And it’s nice to reflect on that fact.
Because this kind of work isn’t just useful – it’s deeply satisfying. When you help a brand find its story, you’re doing more than writing strategy or copy. You’re helping a group of people understand who they are, what they care about, and what they stand for. You’re providing identity and community.
You’re giving shape to something they’ve often felt but never quite known how to say. And in the process, you’re reminding yourself why this work matters. Why words matter. Why story matters.
This article is the first in a three-part series called The Fabric of Story. The second will be available soon.
The series is written by Sam Lightfinch, a strategist and storyteller, and the birdbrain who founded Lovebirds. Lovebirds is a story studio that works with organisations to tell the right stories. Sam also writes a Substack called Stories With Heart.
It started with a dress.
In 1926, a picture in American Vogue altered the course of fashion. Coco Chanel took a colour reserved for mourning and made it the sharpest thing in a woman’s wardrobe. The Little Black Dress was stitched together by rebellion.
But Chanel didn’t invent a trend out of thin air. She noticed what was already shifting beneath the surface, how women were growing restless inside the trappings of fashion’s old rules. She turned this untold story into a statement piece.
The best brand stories work the same way.
They aren’t born from inspiration in brainstorms. Or post rationalised through slogans and mission statements. They are found (slowly, stubbornly) by the people willing to listen. They’re pulled from threads that already exist.
And when writers learn to find these threads, we stop producing surface-level copy that adds to the churn of tired ideas, and we start building story-worlds that increase income, deepen engagement and set brands apart.
Finding the thread of an organisation’s story is the difference between a message that’s heard for a moment, and a narrative that’s remembered for years.
This is a three-part series that will show you how to find, tell and grow these stories.
In this first article, let me show you how to start pulling at threads and find stories people rally around.
“It’s Alive, it’s Alive.”
Not learning from Dr Frankenstein’s mistakes, the creative industry has created its own monsters.
We beat drums about brands being unoriginal, uninventive and uninspired and yet, when we tell stories, we lazily grab at our recycled ideas, borrowed frameworks and tired buzzwords.
Yes, deadlines and budgets are tighter. Sure, competition is more fierce. I know, more companies need more content. Yet we obsess over colour palettes and key messages before we know who brands really are.
Optimisation is trumping understanding.
Strong stories are surfaced rather than built. The work isn’t to invent them – it’s to dig them out, dust them off, and listen hard to what they want to be.
When we’re looking for stories, we’re looking for identity. What a brand really stands for. Believes. What they’d be willing to lose sleep over.
So how do we find them? We look for the threads. And in my experience, there are three that matter most:
1) truth
2) tension
3) transformation
The Thread of Truth
Truth is the bedrock. It’s not a positioning statement, a promise, or a beautifully crafted line in a deck. Truth doesn’t care about adjectives. It doesn’t flex to fit trends. It just is. And when you find it, everything else starts to make sense.
But truth is often buried under performance. Under the need to impress. It hides behind words like "innovation," "authentic," and "mission-led."
Truth doesn’t use those words. Truth is messier. Specific. It’s the reason someone walked away from a safe job to build something no one asked for. It’s the way the product actually gets used – not how it's marketed. It's what the customer tells their friend, not what the brand tells the market.
To find it, you have to dig deeper. Look at origin stories and stress points. Talk to people who’ve been there from the beginning. Read between the lines of early communications. Ask what keeps them going when things aren’t working. Because truth shows up when no one’s watching.
A great example of a brand rooted in a great truth is Finisterre. They make hard-wearing outerwear. But their truth isn’t about staying warm in the sea or being dry on the beach.
It’s about standing in North Atlantic gales on a rugged headland and feeling alive. It’s about a community built on the romanticism of the sea, the cold, the cliff edge and people’s relationship with it all.
Finisterre’s truth isn’t simply a positioning paragraph on their website. It lives in every stitch.
Debbie Luffman, who was Product & Sustainability Director for Finisterre (from its earliest days) for over 13 years, says, “We simply lived it. The product was born and shaped from being outside in the elements and in the sea, our imagery was captured from doing what we loved, our models were our friends, our suppliers were like family. The brand was about commitment from the start, built on a conscious choice to do things differently, because we genuinely believed in a better way of making clothes, of telling stories and building a community.”
Where to Find Truth
Sometimes, truth lives in the gap between what a brand offers and how people actually use it. A meal kit that becomes a lifeline for overworked parents. A dating app that reconnects old friends. What a product is for and what it’s used for aren’t always the same thing.
Other times, truth shows up through limitation. The niche brand that refuses to scale. The business that never runs discounts. The company that says no more often than yes. These aren’t quirks of personality. They’re decisions grounded in belief.
Look at Oatly. Their truth isn’t, "we make oat milk." It’s, "the dairy industry is broken, and we're not afraid to say so."
That conviction shapes everything, from their packaging to their tone of voice to their willingness to pick fights in public. You don’t have to agree with them. But you can’t deny what they believe.
Sometimes truth is found in what a brand protects. Its non-negotiables. The things it won’t compromise on even when it would be easier, faster, or more profitable to do so. It might be a manufacturing process. A design choice. A sourcing decision. Something small but sacred.
Why Truth Matters
Truth is a compass. It doesn’t always point to the fastest route. But it always points to the right one. And often, the brands that last are ones that know exactly where they’re heading.
Research backs this up. Brands that consistently tell their story can see up to a 20% increase in brand value. Customers are drawn to consistency, and that begins with having something real to be consistent about.
When you uncover that kind of truth, you have something rare: a centre of gravity. Not a gimmick. Not a campaign hook. Something the brand can return to, over and over again. Something to build a story-world around, so employees and customers know exactly what they’re buying into.
Our job as writers is to recognise the truth when we hear it. And have the courage to say, “This. This is the story.”
The Thread of Tension
Tension is what gives a story stakes. It’s what makes it worth telling. What gives it motion.
Go watch any film. The hero is trying to overcome something at every turn. If they hop the hurdle, a new obstacle crops up. Our brains know the formula, and tune out if the script doesn’t deliver.
So why do so many brands try to smooth out their stories? To remove the edges when tension is what gives stories shape? Without tension, we’re describing things. With it, we’re asking people to go on a journey.
Every good brand has a tension running through it. Even if they don't admit it. Especially if they don't admit it.
Tension shows up in the friction between values and reality. It’s the gap between a company’s intentions and the world it operates in. That might sound like a liability, but it’s actually where most of the emotional charge lives. People don’t fall for perfection. We fall for honesty, for complexity, for effort.
Take One Planet Pizza. They’re underdogs. A father and son team taking on the household names of frozen food. They’re vegan in a country where 73% of the population still eat animal products. Their entire brand is based on tension. Can they win? Can they convert carnivores? Can they meet their goals?
They lean into these tensions, because tension sells. Tension sets them apart. Tension builds a pizza fan base.
I asked Joe, Co-Founder of One Planet Pizza, about building his brand on tension. He said:
“From day dot me and my Dad have always loved the quote: ‘If you don't stand for something, you'll fall for anything.’ We’ve built our business on the rock solid foundations of our own personal ethics: veganism, kindness and compassion. That's what will always set us apart in a crowded market. The big boys can never copy that authenticity and that almost tribal mentality of fighting for a better world despite the odds. Every one die-hard, loyal vegan customer is worth 100 regular pizza shoppers. We use that energy and passion to build a brand that other people can't help but want to be part of.”
Where to Find Tension
Other tensions are quieter. A heritage brand trying to reinvent itself for a new generation. A disruptor who suddenly becomes the status quo. A joyful product that also raises questions about sustainability.
Tension can be born from frustration with the way things are. Tension can be holding a different belief. It can be a complete 180 from the tried and tested, or a smaller step. It can be a dress.
Tension can be zagging while the competition zigs. Another example for the plant-based market is a new product from THIS. The brand competes (successfully) in the fake-meat sector.
But their latest product isn’t trying to be fake meat. It’s a superfood made from whole foods because people are growing wary of overly-processed foods. They’ve sidestepped into a new segment by understanding the tension.
Tension isn’t something to fix. It’s something to explore.
Why Tension Matters
Building a brand around a tension shows the company has a point of view. To customers, it signals a real, often unspoken struggle. And a company willing to take a stand. To employees, it gives the work meaning. It’s not just what they do, it’s what they’re pushing against.
Tension becomes a source of energy, a reason to care, a reason to try. No tension, no story. Just noise. And the data backs it up. Narrative persuasion theory shows that people are more likely to be moved by stories that contain emotional conflict.
As writers, our job isn’t to resolve every tension. It’s to name it. To ask why it matters. Who it affects. What it reveals. Because if truth is the heart of a story, tension is what makes it beat.
The Thread of Transformation
Transformation is the third thread that can set a brand’s story apart. It’s the emotional arc, the shift, the reason people remember. It shines a Batman-style spotlight on what happens when the brand shows up.
Transformation is where the story moves from being about the brand to being about the person reading it.
It’s where a customer sees themselves in the narrative. Where a potential client or customer thinks: “Oh wait, that’s me. That’s what I want”.
We buy things to show others who we are, what we believe, what we want to become.
Here’s an example of a strategic positioning project for 200º Coffee during my time at 3800. In 10 years, the company had grown from an indie start-up to a multi-site chain with ambitious growth plans. The insight that unlocked the project was how 200º facilitated people’s coffee journeys.
This wasn’t a brand for aficionados who knew their altitudes apart, it was for people who wanted to leave Starbucks behind and try something new. It was for those buying their first bag of beans. No one was playing in this space and being a facilitator of transformation.
Following secret shopper visits, barista training, conversations with owners, staff and customers, we developed a new brand persona (the people’s educator), values, playbook for staff, and a strapline (the home of better coffee). All designed to show people where the brand could take them.
I asked Will Kenney, Commercial Director at 200º Coffee to reflect on the work. He said, “Everyone can get their head around mission statements, values etc. but they rarely make people feel part of the wider narrative or resonate with them personally. Storytelling to bring these words to life is something that should be accessible across an entire organisation, because it’s so valuable to the culture and to reinforce the purpose. The why.
“A big question for us is always ‘How do we use storytelling to make sure the ethos of the business pulls through, even as we scale and daily face-to-face contact becomes more difficult?’
“This process certainly highlighted that one of the toughest obstacles a business can face is simplifying everything into a singular kernel of truth. You need that thread to keep coming back to.
“Ours was understanding and celebrating that we’ve always been a brand who educates without lecturing or posturing. Making coffee more accessible and being generous with our time and our knowledge has huge value to us, both emotionally and commercially.
Where to Find Transformation
To find transformation, you need to look for the thing behind the thing.
Take meditation apps. They’re not selling meditation. They’re offering peace. The app is the mechanism. The real transformation is internal.
Even everyday products offer transformation. A shirt can make someone feel seen. A notebook can help someone feel grounded. A haircut can boost someone’s confidence.
Why Transformation Matters
People respond when a brand highlights transformation. According to one survey, 55% of consumers are more likely to buy from a brand they connect with emotionally.
44% said they’d share a good brand story. That’s not just reach. That’s resonance.
Transformation can be subtle. It can be aspirational. But if it’s named clearly, it becomes a promise. One that invites people in.
A good transformation story says, “We see where you are, and we know where you want to go. Let us take you there.” The brand becomes a mirror and a guide. And for employees it’s a signal that their work has weight. That they’re part of a movement.
So for us writers, we need to find transformative stories that people can step into and feel like it was written just for them.
Joining the Threads
Stories are messy.
In my experience, the creative industry is fantastic at telling short stories. 30-second ads. OOH posters. Brand positioning paragraphs.
But building a story-world is hard. Because brands are never just one thread. The magic happens when threads are woven together. When truth, tension, and transformation intersect, you get more than a story. You get the opportunity to build advocacy and loyalty because you’ve written a story that’s about a human truth, rather than a product or service.
This kind of story doesn’t need to be loud. It doesn’t beg for attention, but people lean in. Not because it’s flashy, but because it feels real. Because it touches something they didn’t have the words for.
The best brand stories don’t feel like marketing. And that’s our job, as writers, strategists and storytellers. To listen for the pulse beneath the fluff. To notice what others overlook. To ask the second question, and then the third.
Because the story is never missing. It’s just tangled. Buried. Half-spoken. Unclaimed. Ask the right questions, keep pulling, and you’ll find the thread.
And when you do, everything starts to make sense.
A Post Script
I’ve been lucky. I’ve managed to push past the quick turnaround briefs and the clients who want everything done yesterday. I’ve worked with people willing to ask and answer the stubborn questions.
I’ve had the chance to tell some strategically sound, beautifully creative stories because clients and teams have been willing to invest in doing the right thing. And it’s nice to reflect on that fact.
Because this kind of work isn’t just useful – it’s deeply satisfying. When you help a brand find its story, you’re doing more than writing strategy or copy. You’re helping a group of people understand who they are, what they care about, and what they stand for. You’re providing identity and community.
You’re giving shape to something they’ve often felt but never quite known how to say. And in the process, you’re reminding yourself why this work matters. Why words matter. Why story matters.
This article is the first in a three-part series called The Fabric of Story. The second will be available soon.
The series is written by Sam Lightfinch, a strategist and storyteller, and the birdbrain who founded Lovebirds. Lovebirds is a story studio that works with organisations to tell the right stories. Sam also writes a Substack called Stories With Heart.
Further Reading
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