Story Slam

I remember sitting around my parent’s kitchen table growing up, listening to friends tell stories. A few friends were really good at it; one was particularly excellent.

Dave knew just what story to tell; he knew how to unravel it without losing the thread. He could craft it on the fly-- describing each character with salient detail-- then bring it to its hilarious and harrowing conclusion as we laughed and cringed. I loved the way he did the different voices and lit up when he spoke; he owned us and lit us up, too, as we listened, open mouthed, anticipating the words like tasty hors d’oeuvres.

I think that’s when I started to become aware of what made a good storyteller; a resistance to ums, a varied pitch. I tried to emulate my friend Dave but only ended up comparing myself to him, which resulted in subtle losses. I tended to leave stuff out, forget where I was, and that death knell of a good story, warble on too long.

All this is to say that I appreciate a good story and the talent and finesse that goes into its telling, so was thrilled to hear about a Story Slam event. The Story Slams are part writers’ group, part happening, and part Gong Show shenanigans. Five bucks gets you in the door and a canned beer-- the king of beers. Absolutely anyone who desires—from 21 to 91, regardless of vocation-- may put his or her name into a hat at the beginning of the evening. Throughout the show, our hostesses pull twelve names out of the hat. If your name is called, you hop up onto the stage, address the audience, and dazzle us with your story. Most folks read from the page, but some memorize their story, and still others do it off the cuff. Your story must be original and it must be under five minutes. If you go on too long, you get played off by the lovely folk band in the corner, Bloomfield, fronted by that nice young man who makes sandwiches at the deli.

It’s daunting and exhilarating all at once, the act of storytelling on demand. There’s the room and the audience and then there’s the clock in your head. Some folks saunter through their stories, blithely unaware of the drummer, picking up his sticks towards the big payoff at the end and mosey right into an unintended resolution. Some wrap up just in time with the confident finesse of an Irishman at a pub with all the time in the world and some speed through their stories as if being chased on the train tracks, a locomotive full of English Composition teachers bearing down on them in hot pursuit.

I go to the Story Slams because I love to hear great stories. I love hearing all the good ones and knowing that the one I’m not so crazy about will only last another four minutes. I get off learning about how other folks perceive the world and I love finding myself alongside the main characters, suffering right along with them in that rowboat or laughing alongside them on the examining table. I love that there are so many gifted writers and funny people in our neck of the woods and I’m inspired by their talent and chutzpah. But mostly, I appreciate a good storyteller. It’s not easy. And yet, they make it look easy.