Monday, September 20, 2010

True confession time

Our confessional culture finally has come up with something more genuine than slickly scripted reality television "reveals," and it's coming to a stage near you. It's Mortified, a chance for people to dig up their adolescent writing, art, and media, then perform it on stage. It is described as a "comic excavation." Motto? "P.S. It Totally Likes You." There is a not-small part of me that wants to get on that stage and start telling about the time that I...um. I can't even say it. I AM STILL TOO EMBARRASSED.

So maybe "Mortified" is out for me. Still, confessing holds an allure and appeal. But I perhaps most enjoy the distancing mechanism of confessing lies: that is, writing fiction. In my fiction writing classes, sometimes we play the game Two Truths and a Lie. It's a first-week ice breaker, and each student tells three things, one of them false. But they're not allowed to reveal which is the lie -- at least not until the end of the semester. My point in playing this game is to show that it doesn't really matter what's true and what's made up, so long as it's convincing. Some students become madly curious to know the truth, and will try to ferret it out of the guy in the next desk. And sometimes that guy realizes it's a little fun to withhold, to build suspense around a great reveal. Also not a bad lesson to learn if you want to write fiction.

I always play along, too: it's no fair (or fun) to sit back and let students do all the work. I try to change it up each semester. This was one of my favorites, mainly because of the wild rumpus of a reaction from my students:

1. I was kicked out of Brownies in third grade.
2. I sang lead vocals in an '80s cover band.
3. I once was able to dead-lift/squat 225 pounds.

None of these things are mortifying, though, at least not to me, which is why I share them here. For true mortification, I need only return to my journals from junior high, high school, even college.
Plenty of writing, bad drawings, notes and letters from lost friends and lost loves. I rarely read them these days, yet I keep everything stored away in basement banker's boxes and Rubbermaid bins. I am a fan of preservation, not to mention containers and containment policy where confessing is concerned. I am also a fan of boxes with lids.

Maybe you are braver than I, or more of a confessor. By all means, have at it. Because even if I don't want to share, I completely want to snoop.

2 comments:

  1. Hi Sarah, wow, thanks for saying such nice things about Mortified on your site and ours. We thrive solely on word of mouth so it means a lot to hear from new fans.

    Also, glad to hear you are excited about the concert film. We hope it becomes a reality as it has been a huge dream of ours to share Mortified with a wider audience. The challenge is that it can ONLY happen through support of fans via http://getmortified.com/movie. The page features all sorts of fun rewards & incentives. Perhaps you'll consider getting involved or sharing the URL with friends. Thanks again.

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  2. When you said, "My point in playing this game is to show that it doesn't really matter what's true and what's made up, so long as it's convincing," it reminded me of something Tobias Wolff, master of short story and memoir, said about memoir. I can't find his exact quote, but it was something like, "Memoir is a story your memory tells you."

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