The first time I went to a Moth performance was winter, 2009, with a man I knew was about to break up with me. Though I sat beside him anxiously aware that he was checking out a petite girl two rows over who was still young enough to look good with her hair in a high ponytail, I was also powerfully swept up in the fearlessness taking place on the stage as strangers–within the framework of story–confronted the raw truth of their lives. I knew I had to climb up on that stage, too. This was the beginning to finding my way to writing memoir. One month later, I went alone to Housing Works Bookstore stood up and bombed. Thankfully, the experience made me feel so alive and on the edge of discovery, that a few weeks later, with a different story, I tried again.
This was my 2nd story. The theme of the night was Disguises.
And this was the 3rd story. The theme was Lost and that night I won the Slam.