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“You should do it,” said Lo.
“I don’t think so,” I replied.
“No, you definitely should do it.”
“It’s not really my thing,” I said.
Now, dear reader, before your imagination gets the best of you, we were not talking about any of the things you may have thought we were talking about.
I had been invited to give a talk at a Moth reading. As many of you probably already know, a Moth reading is a storytelling event where each speaker is given about five minutes to tell a tale without a script. No notes. Just ad lib, though the performance can be prepared and rehearsed like an actor’s monologue.
“I’m a writer. I’m not a performer, a thespian. And I’m awful at memorization. It becomes stale to me.”
With a “Peshaw,” she dismissed my objections. “You can tell a story! You’re made of stories. You ooze stories.”
“A little too graphic,” I muttered.
“You want to ooze some stories into me?” she asked suggestively.
“Lo, that’s the problem! All my stories are about you! About sex! This has to be PG. And also, I notice that good stories, like the one’s that win at Moth competitions and get the most applause on Medium, have a point, a sentimental little piece of wisdom, a…