Can You Tell Your Life Story In 6 Words?

by Judith Rich on March 3, 2010

For sale: baby shoes, never worn.“
Ernest Hemingway

If you think Twit­ter is abbre­vi­ated com­mu­ni­ca­tion, how about this one: can you tell your entire life story in exactly six words?

Wel­come to the Six Word Mem­oir Project, birthed from the brain and heart of Larry Smith, founder and edi­tor of SMITH mag­a­zine, an online repos­i­tory for people’s per­sonal stories.

Although the project is over three years old, I some­how man­aged to remain unaware of it until last week at the gym, where I saw a woman wear­ing a tee-shirt that said: www.sixwordmemoir.com on the back. Such an intrigu­ing con­cept! Assum­ing there was more to the story, I couldn’t wait to see what was on the front of her shirt.

Being that I was mov­ing in place on the ellip­ti­cal and she was mov­ing around the cir­cuit on the machines, I didn’t man­age to catch up with her until just as I was leav­ing the gym. The front of her shirt read: “The psy­chic said I’d be richer”.

OK, I was hooked and had to learn what this was. From our brief exchange, I learned that Larry Smith, a friend of hers and for­mer arti­cles edi­tor at Men’s Jour­nal, took an old idea inspired by Ernest Hem­ing­way, who was chal­lenged to write a story using only six words. Hemingway’s story: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”

Whew! I don’t know about you, but that one kind of leaves me speech­less. Don’t those six words cap­ture the essence of an entire jour­ney through the joy of expec­ta­tion to the sor­row of loss? Or maybe it tells the story of some­one who changed their mind about start­ing a fam­ily and took their life in a dif­fer­ent direc­tion. Or it could be the story of some­one who never expe­ri­enced their own child­hood or who never walked in another’s shoes.

The pos­si­bil­i­ties for inter­pre­ta­tion are end­less, thus invit­ing read­ers to sup­ply their own imag­i­na­tions in bring­ing mean­ing to each offering.

In 2006, Smith took Hemingway’s idea, launched an online mag­a­zine and chal­lenged peo­ple to sub­mit a six word mem­oir, offer­ing an iPod to the win­ner. He expected to receive maybe a few hun­dred entries. He was imme­di­ately del­uged with over 11,000 entries.

Today, over 250,000 six word mem­oirs have been sub­mit­ted, and the idea has become a cul­tural phe­nom­e­non, spawn­ing a best sell­ing book series, includ­ing Not Quite What I Was Plan­ning: Six-Word Mem­oirs by Writ­ers Famous & Obscure, Six-Word Mem­oirs on Love & Heart­break, Six-Word Mem­oirs by Teens Famous & Obscure. and It All Changed in an Instant: More Six-Word Mem­oirs by Writ­ers Famous & Obscure.

Dis­till­ing your life’s story into only six words is chal­leng­ing. Want to try it? Let’s have our own lit­tle con­test and see what we pro­duce. Here are some exam­ples that are among my favorites:

Don’t make me come down there.” — God (seen on a church bill­board)
“The mis­er­able child­hood leads to roy­al­ties” — Frank McCourt, author
“Life is bet­ter in soft paja­mas”- from a 3rd grader in New Jer­sey
“Now I obses­sively count the words” — Larry Smith, edi­tor of SMITH mag­a­zine
“Three mar­riages; three divorces; grate­fully sin­gle.” Judith Rich
” I finally came home to myself.” Judith Rich (OK, I cheated and did 2).

OK, it’s your turn. Let’s hear what you got. If you want more inspi­ra­tion, visit the 6WM Face­book page and see what read­ers like your­self come up with everyday.

And if you want to sub­mit your own mem­oir as a pos­si­ble entry in a future col­lec­tion, check out SMITH mag­a­zine and indoc­tri­nate your­self in this world of pos­si­bil­i­ties. There are six word cat­e­gories for moms, teens, rela­tion­ships, heart break, pol­i­tics, Oscars, Olympics, and many more and the list keeps on growing.

Maybe you could start a cat­e­gory of your own. The nom­i­na­tions are open for new cat­e­gories and if enough of you are inter­ested, we’ll explore them in future posts. What’s new and hap­pen­ing right now and how can we dis­till it into six words?

For exam­ple: Health­care: “I told you I was sick.”

The floor is all yours. Have fun with this and bless­ings on the path.

Fol­low Dr. Judith Rich on Twit­ter: www.twitter.com/dr_judithrich

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