  |
|||
Gatsby’s Bar – Performance Anxiety
I’ve never been one for giving live readings
of my work, never really pursued any kind of interaction with an audience.
Preferring instead to write in seclusion and periodically, meaning whenever
anyone asked me to, publish a poem, a story, or a review. As a system of
“artistic” production this worked out just fine, though admittedly it was a bit
one-sided. It can be a weird scene when writers interact with an audience and
until lately I have not had to personally negotiate this aspect of the writing
gig.
I spent many years working at Jay’s Bookstall
where it was a fairly regular occurrence for writers to stop by for book
signings where the likes of Richard Ford and Michael Chabon, among the many
hundreds of other authors I met during my tenure, both the great and the
unknown, would scribble their signature, or the spidery squiggles which passed
for one, on the fresh title pages of their latest release all the while
engaging in some small talk with anyone who happened to stop by. It was always
uncomfortable when no one showed up for the event, which when the signings
occurred mid-afternoon and everyone who would have liked to come was stuck at
work or in class was a likely scenario, and it was just the author and me and a
big stack of books awaiting endorsement. If you’ve met me then you know I’m not
much of a talker. It could be excruciatingly painful for both the visiting
author and myself as we spent our time, sometimes an hour, sometimes much, much
longer, trying to think of something to say to one another. My old standby
conversation starters were: 1) Are you happy with the reception your book is
receiving?, and 2) Are you working on anything new? It makes me cringe even now
just remembering it. Let me just take a
moment here and apologize to every author who had the misfortune to have a
poorly attended signing and had only me and my idiotic endeavors at
conversation with which to pass the time.
When my book of poems was recently published I
was graciously offered a couple of signing events. The flood gates opened and
every memory I could still retain returned of those mid-list authors sitting
erect and smiling, fancy pen in hand, waiting for someone to stop by for a
signed copy of their latest creation and save them from having to talk to the
likes of me…well, the whole thing could get kind of depressing. And let’s be
honest, the only people who would come to my signing are the people who see me
all the time anyway. I thought it best just to slip in and sign my books and
slip back out thus sparing myself and everyone involved the embarrassment of
zero attendance.
However, I have been giving readings lately.
The publication of a book is such a weird, distressing, and exciting thing.
After many years of writing poems, with an audience totaling maybe five people
at the most, to suddenly have a publisher want to put out an entire book had me
shell-shocked and feeling a bit exposed.
Wanting to do right by the folks who had faith
enough in the work to put it out, and to do my part in the PR department, I’ve
embarked upon giving as many readings as possible. Now, I think it’s fair to
say that I haven’t done this thing in at least a decade. And even then I only
ever gave maybe three or four readings tops. I had completely forgotten the
abject terror that comes with getting up on a stage and reading the goofy shit
that I write.
The first time I ever gave any kind of a
poetry reading was probably back in 1992-3 when one night my buddy and fellow
poesy slinger, Jay Grochalski, and I stumbled onto an open mic night at the now
long defunct Grafitti. Neither of us had intended on reading, but after each
dull, monotone performance given that night we each of us grew increasingly
more frustrated with the whole thing. The breaking point came when a thin,
mustachioed fellow decked head-to-toe in black took the stage with what he
claimed to be over 100 cantos of longwinded tedium. After treating us to a
mercifully short selection from his as-yet-unpublished masterwork Jay or
myself, I can never quite remember which of us jumped on the stage first, gave
forth with what we felt was a corrective to the whole interminable evening.
What can I say, we were young and full to brimming with the excitement that
comes with arrogance and the full-blush of our love for poetry.
I can’t say that we were great that night, but
I am certain we were not dull.
It’s stuck with me ever since that the worst
thing you can possibly do while giving a reading is bore your audience. And
writers, unfortunately, do that all the time when reading. Being back on the
reading circuit I’ve picked up a thing or two concerning what actually makes
for a successful poetry reading. Allow me to share my discoveries:
1.
Get
your audience drunk. I can’t stress this enough. Poetry readings should never
be experienced sober. Once the audience, and hopefully the poet as well, have
imbibed then everyone can relax and stop taking the whole thing so seriously.
Yes, if you as the poet have drunk too much then you risk slurring the words
and falling off the stage, but believe me that only adds to the excitement and
drama of the event. An audience may not remember the words to the poems but it
will be burned into their brains forever if the poet passes out and falls head
first into the front row. It’s kind of a poem in itself don’t you think.
2.
Audience
participation makes every poem better. I can say from experience that every
time an audience member heckled me or shouted out some encouragement or
whatever, the reading got better, or at least a lot more fun. Engaging with the
audience, building a dynamic back and forth between the stage and the seats,
makes everything more interesting for everyone involved. There’s nothing worse
than that awful respectful silence people sometimes believe poetry deserves.
See suggestion #1 for an easy method of getting just this sort of response out
of an audience.
By following these helpful suggestions even a
reading given by someone as quiet and not-so-interesting as myself can maybe
not be a tedious disaster. And really isn’t that usually the best we can hope
for at readings.
|
|||
