Public Readings
When I first started reading my own poetry aloud it was upstairs in a building in downtown Austin, Texas, at an open mic night. This was back in the nineties and the poets there were something else. I’ve been lucky enough to read in a number of really wonderful venues like Golddiggers in Los Angeles. That’s their stage above and it’s beautiful.
Melted power meter in down town Los Angeles
I used to get nervous reading aloud, now that’s not really an issue. I do still get nervous but I just don’t mind that I’m nervous, I know it will pass.
It’s fun reading with a bigger group of writers and performers, especially in Los Angeles. Through WriteGirl and Red Light Lit, I’ve met some amazing writers and listened to and been part of some really wonderful shows.
Usually I read through the poem or story or excerpt a whole bunch of times before a reading so that I know the quirks of what I’ve written and what it’s actually (physically) written on. For example, reading from a book is harder (for me) than reading from sheets of loose paper, but dropping loose paper on stage isn’t a great way to calm your nerves, even if the entire audience is with you, which if you are super nervous they usually are even if they’re silent.
It’s nice (when you need glasses to see the work) to check the lighting on the stage or reading platform to make sure you can actually see what you’ve written. It’s good to feel a little nervous but ready, which is how I feel about a lot of things: motherhood, cooking, working as a nurse, etc.
I will say that I actually prefer reading into a microphone than not, unless the venue is tiny and the microphone seems performative or silly. A microphone (and maybe the sound delay?) makes a little distance between the words ringing out of your own mouth and the meaning of the words themselves, if that makes sense.
Years ago I was a poet at Lollapalooza, they had an amazing poetry tent, and it wasn’t harder (or easier) than reading at the beautiful little bar in Los Angeles where I read earlier this year.
An audience is an audience, even if it’s my siblings and my husband or kids. I will get nervous but it’s not nearly as important as sharing whatever it is I’m hoping to get across. I think this is why I don’t get too nervous when I run public workshops or teach.
Once I read poems at The KGB Bar in New York City, and stood in the restroom and gossiped with famous people who heard my reading and it felt very cozy and grounded.
Another time (also in New Work) a friend and I saw the poet, Marie Howe. and I’d just given this friend one of Howe’s books of poetry, so we screamed when we saw her turn the corner, and then all three of us laughed because I don’t think that’s how even famous poets expect to go through their daily errands in the city. It was absolutely perfect timing for the gift, I have to say.
