Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is the Wakefield Doctrine’s contribution to the Six Sentence Story bloghop.
Hosted by Denise, ruled by a single rule: To use the prompt word and keep it to six sentences in length.
Speaking of rules. If you’re thinking, “Those people at that virtual Café seem to be out for some creative writing fun, and taking part in a weekly prompt-word bloghop what I do, I owe it to myself to check out this ‘Poetry Slam’ next week. I wonder if there’s any special format or pretext or what-have-you.”
Good News: No rules (other the usual limit on sentenceses). Short, free-form poems. Any topic. Length: the written equivalent of a couple of minutes spoken.
One interesting question beginning to surface: ‘Being a Six Sentence Story do we have to ‘write ourselves into the setting (the Café & Bistro)?’ And, (follow-up question), is there any requirement to use a character/avatar or can it be pretty much, ‘Hey! Here’s my poem’.
All of the above.
Let us know in Comments any additional questions or suggestions. In the event you’re planning to attend the Slam ‘in person/character’ and you haven’t read enough about the Six Sentence Café & Bistro itself, feel free to ask: Denise or Mimi or Tom or Nick or Ford or Chris or Jenne for descriptions of the ‘physical’ setting.
The prompt word:
VALET
“Shit! People are actually going to show up here next Thursday…” the tall, thin man looked around at the sea of empty tables half-surrounding the small stage positioned midway along the interior wall of the Six Sentence Café & Bistro;
“The twentieth of April…”
“Thanks a lot, Nick, way to alleviate my sky-rocketing performance anxiety,” both Tom and Nick laughed, the Sophomore, at the far end of the room slicing lemons at the bar, looked up, “What’s so funny…” and Hunga, cocking his head, barked three times, the canine equivalent of ‘all righht!”
“Hello …anyone here?” Frank Hubney called out in a moderately-moderate voice from the vestibule, (after taking a moment to neaten the skewed stack of ‘The WatchTower’s and a handful of ‘SeventhDay Monthly’ covering the top of the cigarette machine, before stepping up to the near end of the bar; “I heard there was a poetry slam here next week and,” the man with a relaxed posture and sharp eyes looked down at the floor before continuing, “Well, I’m kind of a wordsmith and I thought I’d scope the place out ahead of time.”
The tall, thin man jumped up from his chair, “Perfect timing, with your arrival I have a reasonable premise to provide a description of the Café for anyone thinking they’d ‘write themselves into the scene’ when they perform next week.”
“What?”
Tom and Nick, still sitting at the table, were shaking their heads slowly; the Sophomore appeared to be totally caught-up in arraying the slices of lemon he just cut into a perfect crescent; the laptop on the table in an alcove on the opposite wall flared into light and Chris appeared on the screen, clearly deep in thought and from the dark end of the bar, Mimi and Denise stepped into the light, preceded by “No, you tell him or, better yet, if Ford ever gets out of the bathroom, we’ll get him to do it.”
“Wait a minute now, being converted from a granite and brick textile mill, the area is still more abandoned lots, pawnshops and storefront street missions than it is upscale entertainment district, maybe I should arrange for valet parking,” a pause was broken by good nature’d laughter, a goulash of: ‘Get outa town‘; ‘cher, do not worry so much‘; ‘sacre bleu‘; ‘so, I do have the right address‘ and the felt-against-wood thumping of a happy dog’s tail.
*
About clarkscottroger
I asked Steven if he would step up and write a poem for the slam next week. Unfortunately, he agreed.
cool
We’re all about bring a friend, the more the merrier
Is Steven a Sixarian or a Reader or an imaginary being… not that there’s anything wrong with that (I mean, seriously, consider where this event is being held)
Don’t tell anyone, but I think the tall, thin man will be doing the honors for me (the typist)
Steven is the character in my story this week. So, he’s imaginary. However, that doesn’t stop him from writing a poem whining about my portrayal of him in the story. I am looking forward to the tall, thin man’s poem.
There are certainly many levels to the SSC&B, Clark… and that’s just in the main setting! 🙂
I’ve discovered a plan of the SSC&B, Clark, which I’ve posted here: https://wp.me/pVkLb-7p8, if it helps (although the layout is open to interpretation anyway!
One thing I need to check though – do the entries all need to be Six Sentences? I’ll be doing that based on tomorrow’s word from Denise; but is the slam just a free for all for all (…) or do regular rules apply?
Let’s go with standard Six Sentence Story rules, i.e. six sentence (semi-colon sentence-extensions as always allowable within the bounds of good taste) My take on pomes and such is that they don’t need to be sentence (or at least not subject to the same rules of grammar that we all adhere to*
As to the floorplan I would like to makes some adjustments to it. (Will send a sketch in a bit).
Lets try a description:
Stand in the middle of the (un-named side street) in the industrial part of a mid-sized city… the bulk of the formerly-busy mills and factories in this area are still vacant. The majority of them date to the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th century. Textile, jewelry, smaller machine shops. Construction is primarily brick and granite, three to no more than five stories in height (roofs are flat, tar and gravel with lots of vents, cisterns, exhaust stacks (and the occasional crenulated edges)
Looking at the SSC&B we see a single oak door, three granite steps down from the sidewalk.
This is the public entrance.
To the left (exterior) are a series of series of windows divided by square brick support structures (these are ‘through the wall’ and create the alcoves on the wall that is opposite (and parallel) to the interior wall that is where the small stage is (in the middle of).
Stepping through the entrance door there is a vestibule with a couple of cigarette machines (with Chamber of Commerce pamphlets and religious tracts untidily stacked) on the right and maybe a bench on the left.
Stepping out of the vestibule it’s a short distance to the end of the bar that runs across the width of the Café ending open at the semi-dark hallway (where the waitress service station is)
Midway along the bar, and it’s mirrored wall (with three rows of bottles) is the double swinging doors (with round porthole windows in each) that open onto your area, the kitchen. Haven’t spend much time there other than to note that it is mostly stainless steel, very clean and well-lit, has at least one walk-in reefer and there is a desk for you (and sometimes Mimi) to do whatever doesn’t usually involve a spatula.
Back out
Lets stand in the middle of the bar with your back to the kitchen:
to the right (at the end of the bar) is the semi-darkenrd hallway; turn left and you get to the rest rooms, turn right and the first door on the left is the Managers office… continue further and you’re on your own (lol) though the stairs down to the basement (and loading dark) are before you run out of light switches.
Back to facing the room from the bar:
open rectangle with high ceilings, rough-hewn oak rafters above, wide-board (stains of it’s former life pretty much everywhere, except in front of the bandstand, where there is a proper dance floor).
The stage is low, only one of two steps up and is is the middle of the interior brick wall.
The exterior wall is, of course, to the left and has the alcoves created by the support columns. These are kinda cool for the privacy, can be curtained off
Like I said, would try to do a sketch but not so handy with the drawing implements.
Hey! Chris, Denise, Mimi, Ford, Nick!! Did I leave anything out?
* lol
Ah, so there must have been one or more refurbishments to the place since the plan I have was created! The bar runs vertically (on the plan!) rather than horizontally… interesting. Don’t forget though, I use the United Kingdom entrance, so things will look a little different from that entrance! 🙂
…there was a Café Six in which the tall, thin man was giving a tour to a group from a hedge fund… that must be the source of the not inconsiderable amount of funds necessary to effect such renovations… while everyone was on holiday or a smoke break or checking the deliveries of fresh produce (the loading dock in back opens into the basement) or, ‘Hey! did you hear that? (while running to the front entrance).
As long as you know you are there and you are welcome, the “exactness” of a map doesn’t matter so much. Someone will gladly show you to wherever you need to be.
20th April – fabulous!
as I mentioned to Denise ‘be there or be…’ lol
(If you’re unable to attend directly, we’ll set up your laptop anywhere you’d like… )
Poetry slams are always super fun.