October 15th, 2009

Rebecca Reading

This is a last reminder (because I need to spend tomorrow freaking out, and most of Saturday on the train), that I am reading on Saturday afternoon at 5pm at the Manx pub in Ottawa (here’s the Facebook invitation if you like). I hear the Manx is the nicest pub in Ottawa, if that’s any incentive for you to come.

Of course, I know many people can’t make it, either because they are busy or don’t live in Ottawa or some combination thereof. If you would like to hear me read anyway, you could try this little podcast of the Hear hear reading I did in August, of the first half of my new story, “Cheese-Eaters.”

Actually, since it will be a different reading on Saturday, you could actually do both of the above. If, you know, you felt like it.

RR

October 14th, 2009

Readings in Motion

In the year since my last readings post, I’ve done perhaps 20 or 25 readings and other public presentations about my writing. I’ve had lots of fun, learned plenty, had some embarrassing moments and heard some amazing readings. I’ve also gotten loads better–my voice rarely shakes now, I enunciate and project, I know approximately how much emphasis to give the funny lines and the sad ones, and I no longer equate speed with fluency. If circumstances occasionally result in my giving a below-par reading, the benevolent hand of random chance occasionally result in my giving an above-par one, too.

The bad news seems to be that, no matter how much I improve, the nervousness does not go away. I fret a lot pre-reading, going over the selection again and again and wondering whether the piece isn’t just garbage that I should be ashamed to present in front of an audience? I am a fairly obnoxious dinner companion pre-reading, but tonnes of fun–in the manner of a pardoned death-row prisoner–after any reading that didn’t utterly suck, which is most of them. It remains hard to convince reading organizers, some of whom have gone to trouble and expense to have me there, that I am thrilled to be.

And I am! Thrilled that I get to personally deliver my work to the world. A little terrified, yes, but mainly thrilled. And getting better, the more I learn about the process.

So what have I learned? A few things since that year-ago post, actually. If you are curious, here are some very basic practical tips that I overlooked for a while (too long). Now that this stuff has occured to me, I am ever closer to consistently giving readings people will enjoy listening to (note: these lessons are from my combined experiences as reader and audience):

1) Ask if you can be heard in the back before you begin, and adjust your voice/mic until you can be. It is tempting to avoid being primadonna-y and plunge in at a preselected pitch and let the audience cope how they can. However, if you can’t be heard, most audiences won’t cope; they’ll yell at you to speak up/adjust the mic. That’s obviously annoying for the audience to have to do, and it is also very startling to a nervous reader to have people yelling at you.

On a similar note, adjust the mic *stand* before you begin, so that you don’t have to give your reading crouching or on tiptoe, neither of which helps with delivery. Ask for help from the stage if you can’t figure it out; likely the reading organizer/tech guy/random helpful soul will come darting up immediately.

2) Prep your guests. Every reader has some friends and family who aren’t very literary-reading savvy, and maybe have never even been to one before. If they want to say aloud, “Wow, that was great” after each poem in your set and/or attempt to engage you in dialogue from the stage, you may well enjoy that, but then again you may be completely thrown off/dying of shame. Even if a little vocal audience validation is exactly what you want, warn those validators to stick to polite applause for readers that may come before or after you. And please please please, tell your posse not to sit in the front row if they want to leave immediately after your reading. People tromping up the aisleduring the next reader, sometimes *talking* is something I’ve seen a number of times. Of course no one should have to sit through stuff they aren’t interested in, but try to get’em to sit near the door and leave discreetly. I honestly think that some people have grown so used to movies that they forget that it’s a real person up there whose rhythm could get thrown (or feelings could get hurt).

3) Try to stay within the time limit. This is necessary to ensure the goodwill of your fellow readers and the organizer. I have lots of awesome 22 minute passages and it is tempting to read them always, but if I were asked to read for fifteen and there’s a band coming on after literary portion of the evening, the later readers are going to get screwed and hate me, so I don’t do it.

Also, as a listener, I’ve found evenings of readings have a rhythm that it’s best to go with. If everyone reads for 15, I am in 15-minute-mode, and a 22-minute reading suddenly seems torturingly long, though an evening of 22-minute readings is fine. Or maybe my brain is weird.

4) The best readings, in my experience, require very little explanation. The best selection to bring to the stage is completely self-contained: one complete story, a selection of complete poems or a complete poem cycle. The second best thing is the beginning of something, from the first page until you run out of time. The third best is, uh, some self-contained thing in the middle that still doesn’t require much explanation.

But sometimes you simply don’t have an interesting segment the right length that stands alone. Or, damnit, you just want to read the ending for once. So go for it, but work on the explanation as if it were a new piece of reading–make it clear and interesting. The one time I tried to link up two sections from different parts of a story in a reading, I think I lost a good percentage of my audience because I hadn’t rehearsed my explanation and it was not very clear.

The brilliant writer and reader Leon Rooke often jumps around within a reading *without me knowing it* because his bridge passages are so funny and interesting and completely in keeping with the tone of the story. The only downside is when I read the published piece looking for the bit that isn’t actually part of it. Strive for this.

It should go without saying that work shouldn’t need an explanation for anything more than logistical purposes (“Ok, so Jimmy is Johnny’s stepson, and they’re on the road to Vegas”). If an author feels the need to tell the audience how to interpret what they are about to hear, it demonstrates a lack of faith in either how smart the listeners are or how good the writing is, neither of which is an appetizing thought as one tries to get into the work.

5) It’s your time–do what you like. I love it when authors like Pasha Malla chat with the audience, tell funny stories, and engage in dialogue, and I was totally impressed to hear Angela Szczepaniak‘s rejoinders to a heckler be funnier than the actually heckling. Evan Munday and Jon Paul Fiorentino’s typical reading for Stripmalling is a slideshow. A couple weeks ago I heard Spencer Gordon introduce his short story, briefly and wittily, and then he said the words, “I just have to do it in a southern accent.” I thought to myself, and I believe I wasn’t alone in this, “Oh, shit!” Which made it all the more amazing that period Mr. Gordon actually has the twin talents of story-writing and accent-doing is not to be trifled with. It was a stellar reading, warm and funny and original on a number of levels.

My readings are still pretty non-esoteric. I’m pleased if I can get the words from the page into the air in a relatively entertaining manner. My big new thing at my next two readings will be to actually tell a brief anecdote *about* the story before reading it (with cue cards, der; I haven’t gone completely crazy!)

But I am learning to chill out occasionally, and enjoy myself more and more every time. Here’s a picture from one of my more awesome readings/seminars (actually, I did relatively little talking at this one, perhaps why I enjoyed it so!) at North York Central Public Library’s Young Writers’ group.

Even though I struggle with the readings still, I know how lucky I am. How many people get to do this stuff, really?

RR

October 8th, 2009

It’s a Metcalf-Rooke Thing

All good things must pass, and my term as Metcalf-Rooke winner is ending. But I couldn’t be happier that I’m passing it on to Amy Jones, who, on October 20 is launching this year’s winner, What Boys Like. Which, from the stories I’ve read so far, will be amazing and I’m so excited both to read the whole thing and to attend the event.

And then, we’re going to do a couple of the events together in M/R team-joy (I’m always tempted to say “M/R sisterhood” but I won’t because our awesomeness, respective and collective, is ungendered, and likely someday a man will win). October 22, along with Carrie Snyder, Amy and I will be reading at the Art bar in Kitchener for the launch of Issue 112 of The New Quarterly, which has featured all of the above authors. And then on November 2, we’re going to Montreal to read with another M/R teammate, Kathleen Winter, at Drawn and Quarterly. I don’t know if or when we’ll get the four of us together (the prize was launched in 2006 with Patricia Young’s Airstream, but we can dream.

October 4th, 2009

At Draft

Yesterday, I was a happy attendee and terrified participant at The Draft Reading Series. As usual at these readings, the organizers were super on-the-ball, supportive and fun. Here is Maria from the Draft group, below, introducing the event and being charming:

Then amazing Amy Jones read, also new work, which was shocking and very funny and made me even more excited to read her forthcoming book as well as for the other events we’ll be doing together soon (oooh, suspense: stay tuned, Metcalf-Rooke fans!!)

Then Sachiko Murakami read some striking poems about Vancouver, and wore some really nice boots (not pictured):

Then Lina Medaglia read from her novel about immigration, superstition and how hard it is to be a kid because no one will tell you anything:

Since it was the Draft reading series, I read a story in draft form, ie., something I wrote the week before and edited over breakfast. This is something I had never done before, and it was really only Hallowe’en kisses (can you believe I could not find a picture to link to here? Can you also believe that it didn’t occur to me before now that bringing candy to readings is awesome?) Here I am, terrified, and full of sugar (thanks for taking the pic, B):

Then, of course, the camera died (B, I don’t blame you) before I could get a shot of final reader Roz Spafford, but I assure you she was interesting too! And then there was the first open mic I’d ever seen, which was quite quite good, considering the reputation of such ventures, and included such cool readers as August Bourre and Terri Favro!

It was an entertaining and illuminating (I can read draft work to strangers without bursting into flame–who knew??) afternoon, though I was shocked that there was candy leftover. Don’t worry, that will be rectified shortly!

Teenland, whoa-oh
RR

September 22nd, 2009

Eden Mills, with new lighting

Ok, enough with adorable kittens–back to literature!

August asks, “How was Eden Mills?” and Rebecca responds–perfect!

It was no last year at Eden Mills, both better (because there wasn’t a downpour) and less thrilling (because it wasn’t the first day I ever saw my book); overall it was just a wonderful days of sitting in the sunshine, listening to great readings and eating muffins.

It would take threat of violence to get me to pick a favourite reading, but among the very very good were Andew Hood, Saleema Nawaz! Zoe Whittall! Sonnet L’abbe! Julie Wilson! And the man himself, Leon Rooke! See those last two below, revelling in their spellbinding stories (Julie tells me there is a mink or similar creature on the bank of the Erasmosa in this picture of her, but I can’t honestly make it out).

Oh, it was a great day, so good to see so many friendly faces and good books. And then it was very good to come quietly back to the city and go to sleep.

They’ll keep an eye on you son
RR

September 18th, 2009

Suggestions

There is *so much* going on of late that is awesome that the only way I can imagine anyone going wrong is if they were to sit home in the dark and not read anything. But if you are looking for suggestions…

1) Leon Rooke!! Everyone thing the man does is astounding, but specifically:

a. His new book, The Last Shot, promises to be thrilling. I have to admit I haven’t opened it yet, as I only attended the warm and wonderous launch last night, but such was the buzz in the room that I’m pretty sure I’m right about this.

b. His festival, The Eden Mills Writers’ Festival, which Leon and his late wife Connie started over 20 years ago, and which continues to surprise and delight and extremely talented authors to read there. This Sunday afternoon, by the river outside Guelph. I’m bringing muffins, a sitting-on-the-ground blanket, and book-buying funds–see you there?

c. His art exhibit, Peculiar Practices, at the The Bookshelf in Guelph, which runs until this Sunday. I have no idea what to expect, but am excited anyway!

2) If for some reason you can’t be in the Guelph/Eden Mills regions but you can be in the Sharon region, maybe try the Words Alive Festival in Sharon, Ontario, also with a bevy of talented readers, and (I’m told) a beautiful setting… If I weren’t already booked!

3) In preparation for hearing her read at the aforementioned Eden Mills, I have been joyously reading Saleema Nawaz’s beautiful story collection Mother Superior. I’m only halfway, and still have no idea what the cover art means, but I already know that this is one of the best new books I’ve read in a while.

4) Online: Alex Boyd has a new blog, Kathrine Nabity is doing a wonderful history of how she wrote and published her first novel, and *I* have an author page on GoodReads!!

5) I’ll be reading in Ottawa on October 17, 5pm, at the Manx Pub as part of the Plan 99 reading series. I am very excited.

6) You can go read some good stories at the University of Toronto alumni Short Story contest readers’ choice site. If you are yourself an alumnus, you can even vote for your favourite. (completely equitable hint)

I am very excited about everything in the universe right now, except that it is cold out and I am not feeling well. So, thank goodness for literature! As usual!

Precious precious precious
RR

September 3rd, 2009

The Reading Etiquette Question

This is one of those posts I always mean to do and then think, nah, that’s dumb, at the last minute. But tonight my defenses are low!

So–when is it polite to read? Like, in social life?

Some background: I don’t have enough time to read all that I want. Probably no one does. Since I am a public-transit passenger/reader, I always have a book with me, and if whatever I am doing has a lull in it, I am inclined not to waste the lull and thus I pull out the book. I read in line at the grocery store, lying on the table giving blood, in a blizzard waiting for the streetcar and, sometimes, also in social situations.

I’ve gotten some looks.

What do you think, fellow readers? Is it ok to read in a restaurant while your dining companion is in the bathroom? What about in someone’s home when the homeowner has gone to the bathroom or to take a call? If only with a certain duration of calls, what’s the trigger-minute? What about in a job interview and the interviewer leaves for an unmentioned length of time? What if you thought you were departing a party/office/theatre/whatever with someone, but then that person leaves you on the front steps to go back in to get something? What about in someone’s car if the driver is talking on a cellphone? What about at a meeting that hasn’t started yet when no one appears to want to talk to you? What if, after that meeting, you happen to fall into conversation with someone and get on the same bus together–are you then required to stare into space if the conversation dies, or can you say, “Great chatting with you” and pull out your book?

I’m a social person, I swear I would always pick the real conversation over the textual one, if there were one. But somehow, even when the person isn’t actually available to talk to me, I feel they are someone how hurt to me reading on their time. Is this me being paranoid?

I really wish someone would solve these issues for me. They aren’t a *large* source of stress, but…

Do you know your enemy?
RR

September 1st, 2009

The Haps

1) Joyland Stories will soon be a part of the daily dose of aweomse that is CellStories, a site that sends cell phone and Blackberry (etc.) users a new short story every day (you can also read the stories at the link above). Sounds like a great way to pass a commute, and is probably the second reason on my list of reasons to maybe possibly someday get a cellphone (the first being to receive amusing texts from AMT, and third being in case I am ever accidentally (or on purpose, I guess) locked in a closet.

2) The finalists for Journey Prize 21 will be announced at Ben McNally books on October 1, and I’ll be there to help make the presentation. I’m really looking forward to celebrating such great work.

3) A story of mine called “Dykadelic” will be in the yet-to-be-launched journal *The Milan Review* sometime this fall.

4) I’ll be reading at the Draft Reading Series on October 4 at the Blue Moon Pub. Only new drafty works are to be read there, so who knows what I’ll be presenting.

5) Finally, for those who said it couldn’t be done, I have made it through a week with a left hand mouse and, though I still hate it a lot, this morning when someone *moved my mouse* to the right side of the keyboard (oh, don’t even ask) I *moved it back*. New neural pathways, here I come!

You let me down easy / you let me down hard
RR

August 25th, 2009

Further reading

So we’ve all heard the debate about eBooks, the Amazon Kindle, the Sony reader, the future of print, etc. (at least, I hope we all have, since I am too lazy to provide links). I am largely playing from the sidelines, since the price of entry into the fray is $300, and then you still have to pay almost full price for the books and, unlike the print market, there are no used book stores, libraries, or generous lending friends for eBooks (that I know of??) Any emotions or opinions about this dawning technology that are expressed herein are entirely theoretical.

However, I have been reading on-screen for years–computer screens, of course, but still. I am desperately behind the times in many ways (I have no interest in phones that don’t plug into the wall) but reading on-screen is fine to me. I don’t feel like I miss things, that I have a harder time following the text, or that it’s hard on the eyes. I have read hundreds of books on computer screens, in various formats–some were in DOS.

Most of this reading, of course, has been done for work-related purposes–my various publishing jobs have required a lot of reading. On my own time, I read books in book format, for the reasons stated above and also because I like them. I like pages, I like jacket copy, I like bookmarks and perfect-binding and matte finish covers (oooh, with spot gloss!) My alleged leisure reading often has a semi-professional puropose, though: I probably read more like a student (looking to see how it works) or critic (looking to see if it works) than most. But mainly I read for pleasure. I don’t watch tv, knit, golf, or own a cellphone–reading is what I do for fun. A flawless weekend, to my mind, the one I spent two weeks ago, park-hopping–going to a park, lying in the grass and reading until you get hungry/get thirsty/have to pee, going to cafe to rectify that, and then going to a different park to repeat. On a sunny summer day in good company–bliss.

I think I could do that with an electronic book, if I had to. I won’t know *until* I have to, because of the price threshhold and the fact that I like paper books so much, but I don’t know if it’s going to be a huge big deal for me. As I started writing this post, I was going to say I mainly do my pleasure reading offline, but then I realized I sure do read a lot of blogs. And then I was going to say, oh, but not like literature online. But the truth is, in the past week alone I have had the random impulses to read The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, The Young Lutheran’s Guide to the Orchestra and The Dead at times when the paper copies of those pieces that I own were inaccessible to me. And yet the interweb made reading happen for me, for which I am grateful. I had read all those items multiple times before on paper, and then last week on the web, and I feel safe hazarding I enjoyed them just as much this time round.

So this is a good sign (and also a sign that writing this blog allows me to think through my positions on things much more fully than simply thinking about them does). I’m scared of the electronic book, of course, as only a person who has never had a cellphone, cable television or a dishwasher can be. But I do think in the end, books being my favourite thing will triumph over my fear of the new. It’ll be like a loved person in an unfamiliar hat.

Of course, my vision of the future seems to involve somebody showing up one day and taking all the paper books away and that’s probably not going happen, at least not in my lifetime. Maybe, in time, my affection for paper books will come to seem as amusing as my love of landlines, and I’ll sit in my corner turning pages, while the rest of the world moves on.

That wouldn’t be bad at all.

Serenity now
RR

August 19th, 2009

Now Hear This!

Well, I was calm for a while there, but round about the 7-hours-and-counting mark, I became terrified. Following that seven hours I will be, for the first time ever, reading new, unpublished (ie., still possible to revise) work in public. Aieee!

I’ve heard a lot about, and believe in, the power of audience reaction–both overt (laughter, applause, boos, heckling) and subtle (more attentive silence, more sleepy ignoring silence) to help a writer know what’s working in the story and what isn’t. And I think I’m finally at the point where I can try it. But, oh, it’s going to be so raw to be reading smudgy-ink printouts rather than a nice printed-n-bound object.

Anyway, if you want to be one of the ones who offers that powerful audience reaction, see here. And see you there?

So you don’t confuse them / with mountains
RR