Don’t know much about geography. Don’t know much trigonometry. Don’t know much about algebra. Don’t know what a slide rule is for, but I do know that one and one is two. And if this one could be with you, what a wonderful world this would be.
My six word memoir
Posted by: Susan Marshall | Posted in: Living Intentionally, Susan's MusingsMonday, May 26, 2008
There’s three sides to every story, yours, mine, and the cold hard truth.
I laughed until my sides hurt
Yeap, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it: I laughed until my sides hurt.
Earlier this year, I listened to a captivating NPR piece on “six word memoirs.” They were reporting on a project that the editors of the storytelling magazine, SMITH, took on when it challenged its readers to write their life stories in six words.
It seems that legend has it that Hemingway was once challenged to write a story in only six words. His reply was: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” Stop and think about it.
It must have struck a cord, because more than 15,000 people wrote in response to the online request, and over 800 appear in a book published by SMITH Magazine: Not Quite What I Was Planning. They say that the collection demonstrates “everything we believe storytelling can be: accessible, funny, profound, and addictive.” NPR then carried it further—I think you’ll enjoy their lovely addition of art to memoir here.
Can you describe your life in six words?
I’m attracted to the notion of pithiness. Indeed, there was a healthy tension between Jane and I as we sat down to write our book. I sometimes tended toward a terseness that yearned for something more being said; Jane, on the other hand, could be predisposed to a flurry of words that results in a certain breathlessness. I like to think that we settled on a perfect compromise.
So, does my six word memoir sum me up? (I should tell you that a close second for my life’s story was: I laughed and peed my pants.)
I think so. I like to believe that my humor and laughter have defined me all my life. From, as a teenager, racing my grandmother to the bathroom after we both broke up and were in tears after someone’s crazy Parcheesi exploit, to gasping for breath through the hilarious telling and retelling of my annual houseboat (mis)adventures.
Or, more recently, my unsuccessful stifling of a minutes-long belly laugh while laying in a restorative yoga pose in a Mexican outdoor pavilion after my yogini friend Julie whispered “I think a bird just pooped on my arm” and my guffawing during my own wedding vows.
And, now, with Rick at my side, I find myself laughing all the time. He makes me double up and laugh until I cry and, in return, I regularly attempt to make him snort out loud. It seems to be working if the number of giggles, chuckles, and chortles count for anything. We keep counting the number of years we are adding to our life as we try not to take ourselves too seriously.
I asked Rick, as I was writing this blog, for his six word memoir. My husband and bridge partner pondered the question quite briefly, then grinned and replied:
I took the finesse the wrong way. Most of you won’t understand, but can you guess that we are leaving for a bridge tournament tomorrow?
What’s your story? Tell us, in six words….or more!
Comments
Reason #248 why we’re friends: I was recently described by Mike Pohl as “she is pee-your-pants-funny.” 
Patty and I just got back from playing bridge in Austin with some friends we met in Gatlinburg. One day Ellen was talking about one of her life’s mottos - something she would want to have on her tombstone. It made me think of this article. Here are three memoirs (or epitaphs, as the case may be) shortened to six words:
Nobody had more fun than me.
Died young, at an old age.
I told you I was sick!
