"Stone Soup" has even from childhood been one of my favorite stories. (The version I've linked to is a bit warmer and fuzzier than the somewhat cynical version I remember from my youth, but it's still a fine yarn.) The reason I bring this up is that a friend of mine here in Wollongong runs a periodic coffee house-salon-open mic afternoon she charmingly calls "Stone Soup." Today, Margaret and two of her friends (whose names do not appear here because I haven't cleared it with them yet) performed a little three-minute play I wrote and in my directorial debut directed. They did a great job, and if there's a chance to get them to perform it again, I'll see if I can video it and post it. (I may expand it to a 10-minute, which would be long enough to enter into short-play competitions.)
Moreover, I did my very first piece of performance poetry. Oh, I've read poems of my own on occasion, but this was the first one I ever consciously worked up as a performance and learned by heart, reproduceable in essentially the same form for different audiences on different occasions. It was fun. Maybe I'll find a poetry slam in Sydney one of these days and enter. (This poem was only one minute, which may be too short; I'll have to write, work up, and memorize another one, closer to the target time limit of three minutes.)
If you have ever entered a poetry slam, tell me: did you like it? Was it worth the effort for you? Was it fun?