One of the things that I do as a writer, something I simultaneously love AND hate, is live readings. While it’s a wonderful experience to share your work with an appreciative audience, at the same time, I spend days beforehand worrying and stressing about it. What will I read? How long do I have? What if someone reads something similar to me right before it’s my turn? Also, I write some pretty dark stuff and I always have to preface a live reading with “this is fiction” or “my parents are really lovely people” or “I have never killed anyone…that I’m aware of” or “Why are there small children here?!” I’ve had a couple of really awful readings in the past, like the time that I was invited to an online poetry reading. I don’t usually read my own poetry and don’t consider myself a poet, but I DID have a poem that I was quite proud of. It was about the nature of time, and how doing something kind in the moment led me to avoid getting hit by a deer on the road later by about 10 seconds, the same 10 seconds I didn’t take to think about being kind earlier. But then the person before me told the audience a horribly tragic story about a family member who’d been hit and killed in a deer/car accident, which left me scrambling for another poem to read. And then there was the time that I was invited to a reading and wasn’t told until I got there that the theme was love. And I was like, have you even read ANY of my work? Because most of my writing is VERY dark. I didn’t feel too bad though, because the woman before me read a story where the two “lovers” are murdered in a very gory way by a vengeful ghost, and it made my selection seem tame by comparison. Then last weekend, I was at a horror writing conference and I was asked to read. “Perfect,” I thought. “Finally an audience who can appreciate some of my darker stories.” So I picked a couple of short stories that I NEVER read aloud because they are VERY violent. I got up to the podium and began. When I got to a particularly gruesome point in the story, I looked at the audience and stopped reading. “Wow,” I said. “I’d forgotten how nasty this was.” Everybody laughed, but it was that kind of uncomfortable laughter where you want to be supportive of the person who’s just bombing. I’m pretty sure that was all in my head, because when I’d finished the second piece, there was a lot of applause and some people came to buy my book. But still. I guess the problem is that I tend to overthink things. I mean, if you ask me to do a reading, you should know ahead of time exactly what you’re in for.

The last two readings I’ve done though, have been from my humour collection. I didn’t think anyone but me would GET me, but apparently they do, and both times, instead of having to apologize in advance, I just read and people laugh ( and buy even more of my books). Which made me realize that my audiences ARE responding appropriately. They laugh when I’m funny, and scream and cry when I’m scary. Mission accomplished.
The other thing I did this week was (almost finish) my new miniature dining room. I don’t know why I love doing these things so much, and I don’t know whether it’s going to lead to me being a full-blown dollhouse person, but it makes me happy. And here’s a challenge–take a look at the room and if you can identify the one thing that’s still missing (because remember, I said “almost finished”), that will cement you as one of the people who know me the best (Anonymole, I’m looking at you), and I will name a character in my next murder story after you.

Also, the other day, I yelled at a crow. Why? Because it wouldn’t stop cawing and I was trying to write. So I went to the door, opened it, and yelled, “Shut the f*ck up, would you?!” And the crow stopped cawing. Another mission accomplished. And that dead mouse on my porch? Who knows where it came from…
I need to find an open mic night that’s separate from the social group I tried to be a part of since this past July. Apparently, I’m too different to be a part of any large social group, it seems. 😦
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Large social groups are overrated in my opinion. And different? Much better than all the same!
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I love how you take any situation and spin it in a positive way, no matter what your doing. Even though your writing is very dark (like my soul, lol) you are a person with a very good sense of people. That’s why you panic at times at these readings, you are reading how people might react to not just you reading, but the one before you. But are Player One, and you can do whatever you want and your readers will always love you! As for that dead mouse on your porch…..maybe it was the crow, lol. I have a mocking bird in my back yard, and it’s constant mimicking of car alarms and door bell chimes is so annoying! I think you love those miniature rooms because it not only relaxes you physically but your mind as well.
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You know me so well! Which isn’t surprising after all these many years❤️
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My eyes aren’t what they used to be, but I’d guess the one thing that must be in every room that isn’t in that one is a CLOCK.
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You are CORRECT!
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A picture of Paris?
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Ooh that’s definitely something I need!
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I so impressed that the crow listened to you! And congrats on your writing accomplishments.
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Thank you!
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I think your dining room is missing a clock.
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Yes!!
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I can’t resist a challenge and while I usually enjoy reading others’ comments I have to skip right to this and say the one thing that’s missing from your miniature room is a clock. I hope I’m not giving it away too soon.
Anyway I find that reading humour or telling jokes is easier, from the reader’s perspective, than anything dramatic. Jokes get immediate feedback. People can enjoy drama, or horror, but have no way to show it in the moment. I went to a reading by the poet Philip Levine and he started with his poem “On The Meeting of Garcia Lorca And Hart Crane”. When he was done I put up my hands to clap but everyone else was silent. Levine saw me and said “Go ahead!” So I clapped and everyone else did too. So the moral here is if you’re nervous plant someone in the audience to clap at appropriate moments. Yes, I’m volunteering.
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Yes, it’s a clock! It’s the only thing I still need. I wish we lived closer to each other so you could be my audience plant—it’s too obvious when Ken does it!
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haha yelling at a crow, now that is super funny! Your hilarious! ❤
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Thank you!❤️
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Dueling portraits invite conversation,
while the bird tweets its irritation.
Below, the blood bright Persian,
offsets the walls’ psilocybin excursions.
A Tiffany, a punch bowl, a violin,
speak of parties, a present left to atone for prior sins.
Yet the room exists in silence,
it enjoys no ticks, no tocks,
For nowhere amongst its fine refinements,
do we see a cherry clock.
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The winner and still champion! A correct answer accompanied by a bespoke poem? Coming soon to a murder mystery near you!
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Perhaps the crow left you rhe mouse as a present? They do have a sense of humour too.
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A present is how I’m going to perceive it–and I won’t be yelling at it anymore!
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A clock of course😂
Sent from Yahoo Mail for iPad
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Ah, you know me so well!
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I don’t see any clocks!
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Exactly!!
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I love to yell at crows. In Fiji, we yelled at the fruit bats, which only encouraged them to throw more fruit at us.
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Better than dead mice being lobbed at you!
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Well there is no wine in the dining room, unless it’s in the teapot.😁
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🤣🤣You never know!
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I’m too bleary eyed with covid at the moment – despite being careful & up to date on vaccines – so I was lazy & looked at other people’s comments – whatever would have been, it’s quite charming & I’m glad your readings are going well despite your qualms ❤
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Oh I’m so sorry you’re sick!
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Fortunately this bout has been relatively mild and I’m almost totally well now. Super grateful I haven’t lost sense of smell. When I first got it just before vaccines came out I lost smell for 2 years
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There’s no clock! And I thought I was so clever, but now I’m hoping someone else says so, so that I won’t be the last person to say so.
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You got it! But of course, I was out today and found the perfect clock!
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I just caught up today but I don’t see a spoon to serve the Tea or napkins.
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Ooh good call. I have tiny spoons somewhere—I’ll add them!
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I’m not surprised that your audience connects with your readings, Suzanne. Your books are great.
And missing from the dining room. My first thought was tea cups and saucers. 🙂
It’s adorable.
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Thank you! And I just got some cups and saucers!
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Bravo on having the courage to stand up and /perform/ in front of an audience, coz that’s what you do when you read. Oh and I love the dining room setting. The only thing I could think of was Atlas. Hiding under the table for titbits. ??
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