I had the great good fortune of telling a story this week at Boston’s sold-out Moth StorySLAM. Here’s how Moth StorySLAMs work. You prepare a story that relates to the theme — in this case, “Love Hurts” — put your name in the hat, and over the course of the evening, 10 names are pulled out of the hat. If your name’s called, you walk on stage and tell your story. A true story, with no notes, in five minutes. I love this stuff.
Fifteen years ago yesterday, Daddy died. As it turns out, I spent the anniversary of his death reading from my book-in-progress How to Draw a Nekkid Man at our local library. Daddy would have been thrilled. He loved my writing, enjoying my letters to him almost more than our phone conversations. [Read more…] about Some Words for Daddy
Like the rest of the nation, Election Day was a tense one for me. To combat the anxiety, I resorted to my reliable stress management technique and began eating Nutella straight out of the jar. I didn’t even bother to find some sort of vehicle for the Nutella like a banana or perhaps a cracker. I just picked up a spoon and started eating. I’d like to say I stopped this practice on Wednesday, but no. I decided that eating Nutella straight out of the jar not only helped manage stress, but also served as a reward for work well done. So when I met an important writing deadline yesterday, I picked up a spoon, the Nutella, and went to work. Is there no end to this gluttony?
I am experiencing a perfect storm of deadlines. A fundraising campaign, an upcoming performance, a portion of a manuscript, all due within the last week of October. And there’s a possible trip to NYC scheduled as well, and I am writing this from my hometown of Tampa, where I’m attending a not-to-be-missed 80th birthday party, that has me away from my studio at a critical moment. I started to hyperventilate on Tuesday, worrying I would never get this all done.
“My mother wanted us to understand that the tragedies of your life one day have the potential to be comic stories the next.” — Nora Ephron