Which Story Genre Are You Telling?

An intro to the 8 archetypes and why your brand voice should be rooted in narrative style.

Every executive who posts on LinkedIn is telling a story. Most of them just don’t realize they’re telling the same one as everyone else.

The default LinkedIn story goes something like this: “I’m an expert, here’s what I know, and you should listen to me because I have the credentials.” That structure is the backbone of about ninety percent of executive content, and it’s serviceable enough, just boring and forgettable, indistinguishable from the thousands of other experts saying similar things in similar ways.

The leaders who stand out are telling a different kind of story. They have a narrative style that’s distinctly theirs, and when you read their posts, you know it’s them before you see the name at the top. Something about the way they approach ideas, the kind of tension they create, the emotions they tap into. It feels intentional, like they know exactly what kind of story they’re telling.

Most of them didn’t plan it that way. They stumbled into it. The ones who got intentional about it later, though, have a massive advantage over the rest of the field.

At Wild Lore, I built a framework around eight storytelling archetypes, each rooted in a classic story genre. These archetypes describe narrative styles, which are different from a personality assessment, and understanding yours changes everything about how you create content, build authority, and connect with your audience.

Here’s the quick overview.

Epic. Grand, visionary, and conviction-driven. These are the leaders who paint big pictures and rally people around a cause, the keynote energy of LinkedIn. They talk about movements, missions, and where the whole industry is headed, and their content reads like a call to action. The risk for Epics is sounding preachy or disconnected from the day-to-day grind. The strength is that when they’re on, they make people believe in something bigger than themselves.

Memoir. Personal, reflective, and experiential. Memoir voices tell stories from their own life and career and draw lessons that resonate universally. Their content feels intimate, like a conversation you weren’t expecting to be so honest. The risk is oversharing or tipping into navel-gazing. The strength is that vulnerability, done well, builds the deepest kind of trust a writer can earn.

Fable. Wise, metaphorical, and teaching-oriented. Fable thinkers work in lessons and analogies, taking complex ideas and making them simple through story. Their content reads like getting advice from the smartest person you know. The risk is sounding condescending if the lesson is laid on too thick. The strength is that they leave readers feeling smarter than they were when they arrived.

Sci-Fi. Future-focused, analytical, and innovation-driven. These leaders stay focused on what’s coming next, connecting technology, trends, and human behavior in ways that feel prescient. Their content opens a window onto what’s possible. The risk is being so future-focused that the audience can’t connect it back to today. The strength is that they make people feel prepared for what’s ahead.

Fairy Tale. Transformational, hopeful, and possibility-driven. Fairy Tale voices tell stories about change, about people going from stuck to unstuck or invisible to influential. Their content feels aspirational without tipping into fluff. The risk is being overly optimistic and thus not credible. The strength is that they make people believe change is possible for them, specifically, not just in theory.

Thriller. Urgent, high-stakes, and tension-driven. These leaders create a sense of “you need to pay attention to this right now,” and they’re skilled at identifying risks, naming uncomfortable truths, and writing content that people can’t easily ignore. The risk is exhausting your audience with constant urgency. The strength is that nobody scrolls past a post that feels genuinely high-stakes.

Myth. Deep, philosophical, and meaning-driven. Myth voices sit with the big questions: why we do what we do, what work means, and what leadership really requires of a person. Their content carries weight and a sense of importance. The risk is becoming inaccessible to readers who want a quick takeaway. The strength is that they make people think differently about things they previously took for granted.

Satire. Sharp, observational, and humor-driven. These leaders point out the absurdities in their industry with wit and precision, and their content makes people laugh and think at the same time. The risk is coming across as cynical or disrespectful when the humor lands wrong. The strength is that humor is one of the fastest paths to someone’s attention and, eventually, their trust.

Now for the important part: you don’t pick an archetype because it sounds cool. You identify the one that matches how you naturally communicate, the way you tell stories at dinner, with the kind of observations that come out when you’re not trying to sound like anything.

When I work with executives on voice development, the discovery of archetypes is usually the biggest unlock of the engagement. They’ve been trying to sound like “a thought leader” (which sounds like everyone) when they could be sounding like their specific kind of storyteller (which sounds like nobody else in the feed).

The archetype quiz on our site is the fastest way to figure out yours. It takes five minutes, and you’ll walk away knowing your natural narrative style and how to put it to work.

Because once you know what story genre you’re telling, everything else gets easier. Your content voice becomes consistent, your posts become recognizable in the feed, and your audience starts following you for the specific way you see the world, which is the only kind of following worth building.