Talk story with Jeff Gere and he lights up — his voice dances, he even creates improv tales to answer a question.

A passionate sharer and teller of tales, some as old as time, others spooky and some quite funny, Gere is the master and founder of the Talk Story Festival, tonight through Sunday at McCoy Pavilion, Ala Moana Park.

For 19 years, he has been the soul and inspiration of a mini-army of storytellers engaged in the time-tested oral tradition.

He's even formulated themed nights.

"It's pretty much whatever hits me," he said of the themes.

"Friday night, it's always spooky stuff; Hawai'i loves the spookies," Gere said.

Saturday is a bit random: "I give the storytellers the theme; they work around it."

Sunday, with music linked to stories, is a second try; it was to be last year's topic, but the big earthquakes and power outage canceled the session. "Les Adam, a piano player with Willie Nelson, just wanted to share with the audience, so it was a no-brainer to bring him back," Gere said.

By day, Gere is a drama specialist with the city Department of Parks and Recreation. In 1989, he organized the free festival mostly so the best yarn spinners could weave their magic with Hawai'i's people. He also is producer-host of the Talk Story Radio Show on Hawai'i Public Radio and the podcast at www.talkradio.com.

We asked him Five Questions:

Q. Why is sharing stories so important?

A. It's part of the DNA strain of human experience. When something happens, you tell someone. It may be as simple as "How's your day, honey?" when you get home — that's an invitation to a story. We give so much time to a box (TV) which sends us stories in order to sell commercials. ...

We love to hear what happens in the end, though it's not always happily ever after anymore.

Q. What makes a good story?

A. If I knew, I would bottle it, define it and you'd be talking to me from Hollywood. The only commonality in our storytellers — from Makia Malo from Kalaupapa to our elegant speaker from Volcano, Sandra MacLees, to me jumping around and sweating — is how we get there essentially. We humans have the imagination to be taken in; we plug into it. And it's a co-creative process between listener and speaker. It's all very fulfilling.

I just got a national storytelling award at a national conference, where one workshop dealt with too much screen time — video and TV — and how this impedes development of the frontal lobe of the brain. Storytelling creates images in the brain of the listener; they must conceive it and this imagination makes the frontal lobe grow. And at a festival like this, you give each speaker 20 minutes and it all adds up to three hours of a diverse bouquet of powerful narrative talent.

Q. Do all stories have a beginning, a middle and an ending?

A. That's a simple way of stating it, but it's not so clearly etched. It's news when a plane crashes in the mountain and 17 are dead. Meanwhile, a car explodes and kills 12, and a 13th is shot on the side of the road. Bummers. It's all sad and facts.

However, if one of the people in the plane was returning home from being a nanny for Hollywood stars in four homes for the past years and was an immigrant from Nicaragua who was a hero since she was sending home money, it becomes a story when the car sent to pick her up at the airport to welcome her home disappoints the waiting crowd — with a piñata, flags, marching bands — and the driver comes screaming out of the car crying. The facts shape a story.

Q. Has storytelling technique changed over time?

A. Nowadays they don't always have happy ending. Like life, good triumphs over evil, but only in the last act, like when the little bird helps a lost boy out of the woods, and the dark side gives a hand to the princess in distress.

Q. Are we all potential storytellers?

A. Everyone can tell a story — but some people are good swimmers and there are Olympic swimmers. I got only Olympic swimmers on stage, people who can really tell a good story.

But I do take risks. On Sunday, we have Joel Spiral, the valet parker at John Dominis who is a surfer with a barrel chest, who can tell a story that makes your toes stand up tingling, but you don't ever know what's going to happen. He takes so many risks, has a broad aura, and he does a rap with a pahu drum. I love it.

Reach Wayne Harada at wharada@honoluluadvertiser.com.