Hiya besties! Wondering if I performed at WILDCARD? Well, I kinda made a mess of it. After writing to you all, I realized my grampa story (It’s called The Part That Wrote The Poem) was only half-memorized and would def NOT be ready to tell, so I switched it up to a short piece I’ve been working on, practiced that one all that day . . . and then chickened out at the last second. Oh yeah, I had totally valid reasons not to do it (not 100% prepared, lots of audience members anxious to tell their stories, one teller’s story was similar to mine, etc.), but—and I keep realizing this, so maybe I’m learning it?—afterward, I had that pit in my stomach telling me, you guessed it:
I SHOULDA DONE IT ANYWAY
Why doesn’t my stomach tell me this BEFORE I get all scaredy-cat, dangit? My buddy Keith even said to me, “You know you’re making excuses. You need to get your average up,” meaning he’s got my number AND he’s been reading Things Might Go Terribly (because I said recently that I think I’m performing at about 65% of events offered to me), so THAT friendship’s over.
Just kidding. My ego loves it. My frontal cortex did a happy dance. He knooows me! He knows me well enough to know I make excuuuuses. He caaaaaares. We’re best frieeeeends 4eveeeeeer.
And on and on.
This is why I often describe myself as an extrovert with social anxiety, because a part of me really wants the stage, wants to know and be known, but due to no-good-very-bad parenting and poor emotional intelligence (and a deep suspicion that a fully functioning Amy ego would not be good for this world) I’ve stuffed those inclinations down deep into the nethers and the fact that I’m recognizing AT ALL—even too late—that I shoulda done the brave thing ANYWAY is a win.
For now.
But if I want that awareness to STAY a win and not be just another excuse in a long line of excuses, I’m gonna have to move past patting myself on the back for knowing and start doing.
(And I have been doing, to be clear. 65%!!)
Other notes and advice gleaned from 10 months of putting on WILDCARD, my monthly open mic story swap:
A good host makes all the difference.
People aren’t always aware, craft-wise, of exactly what a story’s beginning, middle, and end are. Most will nail one and fuck up the others.
If you’re going to hold the microphone, don’t forget to move the mic stand out of the way!
The audience mostly wants you to succeed and will help get you there IF you give them clear cues.
Just like in writing, sometimes what is simple and obvious should be stated and not treated like a treasure in your pocket to ‘surprise’ people with. That said, edit, edit, edit. Don’t drown people in details!
A strong, clear, measured voice can make or break a story. Too soft, and they won’t hear/trust/believe you; too loud, and you look like an ass. The audience will forgive much from a solid delivery.
The only way to get better at performing is to keep performing.
NOTE TO SELF: Pestering people to put their names in the NOT HAT is cute one or two times. Chasing them to their seats, begging them to participate, and threatening to randomly call them on stage (all in a poor attempt to hide your own very acute stage fright)? Not so cute.
What did I miss? Berate me in the comments. But don’t be too mean because, as my husband once cried to his second-grade teacher, “I’m sensitive!”
xo,
Amy Bee
Best excuse ever: A deep suspicion that a fully functioning Amy ego would not be good for this world.
What the heck!! this found me right as I was making plans to flake on the moth in Berkeley today…k I’m putting my name in 🫡🤭❤️