An Important Lesson About Public Readings

An Important Lesson About Public Readings

You might think I’ve been on holiday–some remote island without Internet service. Unfortunately, I have no such excuse. Life just got in the way of writing, which is a refreshing change from the other way around.

In the midst of a wave of visitors and a landmark birthday celebration, the 2013 Denman Island Readers and Writers Festival came and went. At last year’s festival, I read from Book I, Awakening. It was the first public reading I’d ever done. I spent weeks choosing, polishing and practicing the perfect piece. I had twelve precious minutes and wanted to make the best of them.

When the announcement came out for the 2013 Festival, I immediately signed up to read from Book II, Revelation. Once again, I spent weeks on my twelve-minute selection. I was feeling quite comfortable about it, but that was before I attended Terry Fallis’s Festival Workshop, “Building an Audience.”

Don’t misunderstand me; Terry Fallis presented a smorgasbord of useful and interesting tidbits, and his comfortable, humorous approach to the workshop and, I suspect, life in general, made the workshop whiz by. But something he said near the end made me anxious. He understood something I’d forgotten.

He reminded me that if a writer gets the opportunity to read from their work, they’d better choose something compelling and representative of both their writing style and their book.

Makes sense, right? Intuitive, don’t you think? No brainer?

Uh-huh…yeah, should have been.

Thank God I attended Terry’s workshop BEFORE my scheduled reading. You see, with Book II, it was difficult to find a passage that didn’t contain either a spoiler or some bit of “lore” that would require lengthy back story to explain. Also, I didn’t want to read from the first chapters, because they’re available on Amazon and elsewhere. Therefore, I chose a scene from chapter six. It was a minor, simple scene with easily described characters and self-explanatory setting.

I thought it was ideal; instead, it was boring.

I left Terry’s workshop in an anxious mess and headed home to scour the book for another passage.

After a tense evening, I decided to read from the first chapter after all, then spent the next morning refining and practicing the new selection to be sure I stayed within my twelve minutes. I read out loud and standing up (another Terry tidbit), and noted the places where I needed to pause or add emphasis.

At the appointed hour, I entered the auditorium and took my place. My nerves jangled and I fluffed a few lines, but I got through it. Most importantly, I read a piece that was representative of the story and in doing so, I left people curious and asking questions they might just have to read the book to learn the answers to. Which is the whole point.

Thanks, Terry Fallis‎. This is not a lesson I’ll forget again!