Stories keep me going, even when there's nothing in the tank
Tell me yours this Friday night
A few months after I earned my MFA in fiction writing, I got a job as a copy editor at a standardized testing company, proofreading questions that would appear on the GMAT, the required exam for those applying to business school. Every month when I reviewed the new pool of questions, I thought about the test-takers, their applications to MBA programs, their dreams to make money. I resented them, not just because I rudely assumed they didn’t care about art, but because they were taking action while I was stuck. Every time I tried to write, my fingers froze at the memory of the hours-long, scathing discussions of my work I’d had to endure silently for two years, that had convinced me I had nothing worth saying nor the skill to do so.
Every day at 11 a.m., I traded my loafers for snowboots, slipped my silver iPod mini into the pocket of my ankle-length down coat, and walked the snowy, silent trails circling the office park as I listened to The Moth’s podcast, which I’d just discovered. I never saw a soul out there, though I’m not sure I would’ve noticed them—I was glued to the true stories in my ears, told by the people who’d lived them, in their own voices. The stories ranged—dramatic, funny, sad, told with New Yawk accents and Southern drawls, in a slow, quiet way or a mile a minute. I followed strangers to places I’d never been, enjoyed the tension of mishap, the relief of discovery, and the big emotions that accompanied all manner of dramatic events.
Those midday meanders were like plugging in a dead phone, the red battery icon blinking. I juiced up on the stories of others, which silently kept my own story flame flickering ever so faintly.
I remembered all this last week, when Pamir Kiciman interviewed me about Story Connection and asked when I fell in love with live storytelling. It was a delightful conversation, and I am thrilled to share with you the lovely article Pamir wrote.
It’s December, a time when many of us are overcome by lists and stress and expectations, which can drain our creative battery to 0%. It’s always OK to take a creative break, but if you’re looking for a low-stakes way to plug into your art, join me this Friday for Story Jam, a free, casual gathering where you can practice and perform stories in a welcoming environment.
No story experience? No problem! Beginners very welcome, as are those who’d like to see what this story thing is all about but may not feel ready to do anything other than listen.
Story Jam
Friday, December 6th, 7:30pm
Eno House Artists’ Den
903 Eno Street, Hillsborough. NC
Learn more and RSVP here (helps with planning!).
And if you’re story hungry, the next live storytelling class starts January 7th at the Carrboro ArtsCenter. Or, sign up a friend—this is a great gift to anyone looking to get out of their routine and have fun with new friends.