Spreadsheets of Stories - NaBloPoMo - Day 2
I almost ditched on National Blog Post Month (NaBlPoMo) this year, but last night, blinded by a flash in the inspiration pan, I decided to go for it. 30 blog posts in 30 days is a solid commitment.
It was a bold and risky move. This year, I don't have a theme (like I did in 2015) and I also don't have a little stockpile of saved up ideas (like I did in 2016). It also appears that the NaBloPoMo sponsor of years past is MIA. I'm flying by the seat of my soft pants here.
A while back, I listened to a podcast featuring the Moth Story Slam founder and he said that every day, he looks around for a story-- something that happened during the past 24 hours. Then he records his random story thoughts in a spreadsheet. One row per idea. He might have offered up some tips about how to spot a decent bit to throw in the story-starter Excel petri dish, but I can't remember. He said it's an art and skill to see the story nestled in between the detritus of day to day bullshit.
If I had such a story spreadsheet, I would have added a row today about my free-range conversation with Grammy. Conversations with Grammy go like this: You're talking about one thing, and then she either mishears or misunderstands and suddenly you're talking about cabbage soup or the bakery with the black and white cookies on 174th street or Cary Grant or something that happened back when the subway cost a nickel.
But eventually, when speaking with Grammy, all roads curl into flumes that spit you into the mouth of one of Grammy's famous stories. Stories that have been worn smooth by the number of tellings. She's got like five left at this point. Maybe she should have kept a spreadsheet. Maybe I should too.
It was a bold and risky move. This year, I don't have a theme (like I did in 2015) and I also don't have a little stockpile of saved up ideas (like I did in 2016). It also appears that the NaBloPoMo sponsor of years past is MIA. I'm flying by the seat of my soft pants here.
A while back, I listened to a podcast featuring the Moth Story Slam founder and he said that every day, he looks around for a story-- something that happened during the past 24 hours. Then he records his random story thoughts in a spreadsheet. One row per idea. He might have offered up some tips about how to spot a decent bit to throw in the story-starter Excel petri dish, but I can't remember. He said it's an art and skill to see the story nestled in between the detritus of day to day bullshit.
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| Grampy and Grammy on 5th Avenue back in the day |
But eventually, when speaking with Grammy, all roads curl into flumes that spit you into the mouth of one of Grammy's famous stories. Stories that have been worn smooth by the number of tellings. She's got like five left at this point. Maybe she should have kept a spreadsheet. Maybe I should too.
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