Amen, brother. Readings--I hate doing them, and typically, I hate going to them (I know, I know, I'm a sinner). Why? The same reason I hesitate before seeing one of my favorite bands play. Who wants to ruin a good thing? Oh, "you wuss," you say. But admit it, doesn't it make you cringe a little to hear the recording of a once-dearly-loved song after it's been butchered by the artist in live performance? It's like comparing "before" and "after" pictures of Michael Jackson--you just want to scream "take it back! take it back!"
What's the point here? Oh right, readings. I'll admit I've been to some great ones (Salman Rushdie and Aimee Bender to name two) aaaand I've been to some truly dig-your-nails-into-your-knees-to-keep-your-mind-off-how-awful-this-is readings (I shan't name names). Then again, I'm also someone who doesn't think you can appreciate a poem until you see it on the page, so maybe it's just me wishing I could bury my head in a book and hide.
Back to the point again: Only the most devout fans (cough, parents, cough) enjoy watching a writer stare down at the podium, drone out words, and shuffle their feet for an hour. Yes, most likely a love for literature or maybe even your specific words enticed the audience to come, but now you gotta give 'em more than what's on the page...so that they'll want to buy what's on the page (circular logic, I know, but it's true). Hey, the hard part was getting people to show, so play it up a bit--be wise, self-effacing, coy, drunk, naked!--and they might even come back, or at least buy your beautifully crafted chapbook.
Now, in that light, a link to Kim Addonizio "covering" a great short poem by Dorothy Parker. A nice segue into her reading I think. (I swear I'm not totally obsessed with DP, life just happens this way sometimes, it's like internet serendipity... interipity... I take that back.)
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nice link.
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