Wow. Just wow. This was one of the best story slams I’ve ever participated in.
I’m going to jump right in and I’ll tell you what went wrong, first. Then, I’ll move on to all the things that went so very right. Even the thing that went wrong turned into something beautiful.
The thing that went wrong? I forgot to hit record. Really. Really and truly. Didn’t record it.
When I shut down our Zoom Playhouse for the night, I expected the video to start downloading. But. NOTHING. My heart jumped when I realized that I didn’t have it. Any of it. This magnificent 90 minutes, gone. A reminder that things are indeed impermanent. And it was a whisper in my ear to stay connected to mindfulness.
The funniest part was that when our Zoom Maven, Mel Moseley, and I met before anyone got to the room, we made a special note out loud to each other not to forget to push that little button labeled “Record.” Oops.
For me, a miracle occurred. I didn’t go to that horrible place of self-flagellation or calling myself a loser. I didn’t go to a place of blame (though Slamone could have been an easy mark), none of my old stuff came up. I didn’t run to my fridge or pantry to feed the discomfort or shame, because there wasn’t any.
Instead, I jumped into action.
The larger miracle and a perfect example of how women are able to work together to problem-solve, support one another, and get the job done. I witnessed it in real time.
I reached out to every storyteller on Saturday evening, right after the slam to tell them what happened. No one flipped out. Not a diva in the group. And I had a plan.
I asked each of them to meet with me, one on one, to record their stories again. From Saturday at 6pm to Sunday at 8pm, (minus a ten-hour break for dinner, sleep, the Sunday NYT Crossword Puzzle and two cups of coffee instead of my usual single, I worked with each storyteller, gathering their words, treated to a private showing and sent off each recording to my video editor and best pal. Everyone involved stepped up, gracious and willing.
We all came away knowing how special this show was.
Working with each storyteller and putting the show back together with them felt triumphant, similar to the live event we’d just offered to our audience.
Shit happens. How we deal with it is up to us. This time around, we don’t have the video of the show in its entirety.
To me, that’s another selling point for coming to the live show. Or not. But let me tell you, the people who did come were gifted with an experience that will stay with them for a very long time. I’m sure of it. Almost immediately afterward, I saw that a new paid subscriber. A man.
The show was breathtaking. One story after another moved me and gave me goosebumps. At one point, as I hosted, I remarked that I was having simultaneous moments of wanting to scream at the injustices, cry for the pain we as women live with every day, and laugh during the lighter moments that provided balance to the stories told, our lives reflected back to us.
You’ll see. Every story was brilliant.
Don’t miss the next one. We’re doing this thing!
P.S. If you take the time to “like” or comment on the post, please take the extra moment to restack (little spinny icon) this to spread the word to the people who subscribe and follow you. It will help us grow and get the word out to more people who might know we exist. I’m grateful for any boosts you can give.
P.P.S. As of March 2026, we were granted fiscal sponsorship from the nonprofit arts organization, Fractured Atlas. Because of that, people can now make tax-deductible donations in the U.S., to support the work of Wham! Bam! Thank You! Slam!
If you’re a feminist writer with a Substack newsletter, and you want to tell a story at one of our themed monthly story slams, check out the theme calendar, send me a DM and sign up. We want to share our virtual stage with you. And for the time being, anyone who identifies as male is welcome to sit in the audience and hear us tell our lives.
Help this project grow by spreading the word. There are other ways to support this project. We now have a fiscal sponsor, which means that donations made to WBTYS are tax-deductible.
If you’re a feminist writer with a Substack newsletter, and you want to tell a story at one of our themed monthly story slams, send me a DM. We’d love to share our virtual stage with you. For the time being, anyone who identifies as male is welcome to sit in the audience and hear us tell our lives.
