Remember the one about the writer who went to a writing conference and attempted stand-up comedy for the first and most likely only time?
That would be me at the Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop, in the humor writing capital of the world, Dayton, Ohio.
I was hand-selected (out of a hat, randomly) and only continued onto the stage under the careful handholding and kick-in-the-ass by comedienne Wendy Liebman, who is apparently a very big deal but a very small woman so I wasn’t threatened. Too much.
She told me I couldn’t bring notes. I told her I couldn’t remember my kids names or what day I put a tampon in or where my car was parked, so she caved and said one discreet index card.
When I cried, she told me one page.
So I modified my notes to make it one page.
This is in my back pocket just in case I lose my phone. Pretty sly, using my phone. Can barely tell I’m reading, right? Sneaky sneaky me.
Here it is: proof I climbed on stage. Proof people laughed. Proof we can all do what we are afraid to do – at least once.