Going On the Account: Learning to Read(ing) the Room…

You know how they say you should read the stuff you wrote aloud to hear how it sounds?

Ends up, it also prepares you for when you read your stories to an audience…

Let’s be frank: The art of telling stories predates the art of writing by centuries, and common literacy is a relatively recent development. There’s a few hundred years between when Guttenberg set up the first type block and the first bestsellers list gets compiled. There were longform works long before that, but the need to write them all out by hand meant your audience was going to be very small, say about the same number of people who read this blog every now and then…

(Hi, Mom…)

And a good way to have your work be introduced to the world is to be ready to read it aloud, which is how these stories used to be shared. Charles Dickens ended up spending as much time before an audience as modern recording artists do today, and for a lot of the same reasons: It’s a revenue stream that supplements just putting the releases in the stores.

So it may behoove you when you finish a piece of writing to read it aloud as though there’s an audience before you. Maybe they’re anxious to hear wat you have to say, and came all the way out there just for you. Or maybe they’re having a few drinks and don’t care who’s taking a turn on open mike night. Either way, they’re your audience, and you give them what you got.

My own experiences were both pretty much last minute. Thanks to a spot opening suddenly in the program, I had a set at NYRSF back in 2012 with literally seconds between getting the invite and going before the audience, and last night got a chance to do a quick fill-in at the (right now looking for a new name) Rooftop Readings series.

Photo courtesy of Randee Dawn

It’s an aspect of writing that I’m not sure a lot of writers consider, the whole “reading at the head of the room” experience that you assume stops once you get to sixth grade. But there’s something visceral about having your words getting off your page and going through the mike to the room at large. There’s the reward of having someone experiencing your work while you’re there, giving you feedback about weather or how something works. Reading your stuff aloud to yourself is a valuable tool in seeing if the prose is too dense or hard to follow, but having live reactions to your words can be more valuable in judging your piece.

So far, much of my reading time is by chance, so I don’t have tour dates to announce… yet…

One possibility to catch me, and maybe try your hand at it, is the monthly reading series at An Beal Bocht Cafe in the Bronx. They’re a very inviting group that encourage writers to share their works; as the main focus is on poetry, if you come to read, stick to flash fiction to fit in their time slots.

Down the road, some day, your own work may be in high enough demand that you can post your touring list out there. Hopefully, I can catch you out there some time…

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