“Everyone has a story. Can you tell yours in six words?” Take this question
that SMITH magazine posed to its readers and throw it out to a room full of teen writers — and what do you get? A bunch of pretty amazing six-word memoirs, many of which are certainly worthy of being published in the SMITH’s next six-word memoir book. (Part I, Not Quite What I Was Planning, has gotten lots of press lately.)
Last week, I had the pleasure of teaching my workshop, Flash Memoir: Write Your Life, One Story at a Time, at the annual Young Authors Conference, organized by BOCES-NY. Each year, enthusiastic and talented high school writers from Rockland, Putnam, and Westchester counties in NY are invited to spend a day attending writing workshops. Organizer and teacher Cathy Greenwood likes to call it a “pep rally for writers.” I like the sound of that.
In the Flash Memoir workshop, we read samples of six-word memoirs that were published in Not Quite What I Was Planning, inspired by Hemingway’s story, “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.â€
Then, we wrote our own six-word memoirs. The participants in my first session were so eager to read each other’s work and to have a memento of their creative writing activity that we decided to post and share their memoirs here.
Simple things were never made complicated.
In a moment, this one ends.
The American dream swallowed me whole.
With your lemons, make Italian ice.
Jeans too tight from baby fat.
Fascination becomes habitual in chem class.
Writing teacher. More latter, than former.
I will never be as lost.
I like goldfish better than people.
If you want, I’ll smile too.
When we meet at the crossroad.
Misanthropic teen seeks someone who understands.
In the end, we’re still here.
Don’t forget to pack clean underwear.
Sight and sand and feeling.
Big smile, broken heel, fading pictures.
Not a great student, been laid.
Cheering for the wrong, who cares?
The beauty of an unborn flower.
Take the pain. Make success. Struggle.
The world is changing, not me.
I’m glad I’m not in school.
Eat vegetables. Eat your cake too.
No longer nymph. Now a goddess.
Unplanned situations are sometimes wished upon.
Smeared mascara, salty droplets, losing you.
Learning not to wait till tomorrow.
Walking with one light, through darkness.
I found what I was after.
Best friend, one guy, who’s gonna win?
(Great work, young writers! Thank you for sharing your work. I hope that some of you will go here to submit your work.)