the view from the floor of kgb bar...i check my email compulsively. it doesn't matter how slow or frenzied my day is, or where in the world i am, if i am near a computer, i will check my (multiple) email addresses for hellos (hint, hint), news (nytimes, washington post, mediabistro), sales (jcrew...adidas...), "green tips" (ideal bite!) and goings on about town. (bully for me if these goings on are inexpensive--or free--since that means i can spend more money on food and wine!) in any case, i wind up attending film screenings, gallery exhibits, food tastings, and many, many book events.
yesterday, in the middle of a maddening tuesday, i read about this six word memoir event, via flavorpill, and i decided to alter my thrilling plans (gym....laundry...) and head downtown to kgb bar. in lo the many years i've lived in ny, i'd never been to kgb bar. i was prepared to be the only non-hipster/intellectual in the room.
the bar was predictably packed with smart-looking folk. i shimmied my way past the bar, found a little bit of breathing room, right near the mic and makeshift dais. i was pleased with my position, until i realized that i (along with a few others) was obstructing the view of the super-smart folks that got there early enough to secure table seating.
they asked us to sit down. on the floor.
as a measure of my enthusiasm for this whole six word memoir idea, i obliged and plopped myself down--in my cute little black jersey dress, and my favorite vintage ivory cashmere coat--on the floor. of the bar. in the east village.
but i was rewarded. the editors, larry smith & rachel fershleiser were disarming as they read from the book's introduction, and offered some backstory on some of the submissions (the contributor of "I still make coffee for two" --zak nelson--has a new girlfriend; the woman behind "many miscarriages. cousin will carry baby" is now the mother of 2...) and i was amazed and inspired. i've been a fan of short short fiction for a while, but the challenge of using a mere six words sent my mind reeling...
my own six word memoir of that evening is banal, but true:
"sat on floor. my hips hurt." hurt so much, in fact, that i left before the "audience participation" portion of the evening.
ah well.
i spent the rest of the evening, at home, stretching my legs, thinking out loud and counting words on my fingers ("boy i want pays no mind," and lots of other lovelorn nonsense not worth writing down or repeating). it was a fun, challenging little exercise, to try to distill an idea or feeling, strip a moment down to its essence...
i think if you take a moment to read a few of the submissions on the site, you won't be able to resist giving it a try.
so register there! send them here! tell me what you think!
i'm going to keep at it. but i'm not sure i'll come up with anything better than this current favorite of mine, which i think rachel and larry said was scrawled in a ladies bathroom somewhere:
"love me or leave me alone."
