When is a Reading Worth Doing, Artist Collaborations, and Thanks to Rose Red Review

The question for poets when invited to read is often, “How do I know this reading is worth doing?”

You never know, and there are considerations in terms of costs, time, gas, energy, even our health, all the expenditures writers must make to do a reading. Recently, for instance, I drove an hour and a half to an obscure town with an audience of eight people, none of whom bought books or made any kind of enthusiastic response to the reading. So that felt like a huge waste of time and gas money (and of course, because I am a poet and not an automaton, came with those feelings of “why am I even a writer, no one likes my work, etc.” )

But last night’s reading at A Grape Choice with Northwest Bookfest, happily, was not that kind of reading. I have had a head cold all week, the kind that just keeps you in bed but keeps you from sleeping, if you know the type, and was actually thinking of calling the organizer and telling him I couldn’t go, but at the last minute decided to tough it out and do the reading. All the other readers were older men, slam poets mostly, and I was the only female (the other female reader did cancel. Maybe she had my head cold?) The venue was charming – a wine bar on the edge of the water in Kirkland – and it was packed. (I found out later the owner of the bar was a Kirkland Arts Council member.) The mayor of Kirkland showed up for the reading. I had a sore throat, there was no microphone, and the guys who read before me were definitely, let’s say, in a different vein that the kind of poetry I usually read. And several toddlers (at a bar?) near the reading area made a ton of noise the whole time I read, which is bad for me because I don’t have a big voice to begin with. But the audience was wonderful. Afterwards, women hugged me, whispered secrets in my ear, and cried. Men cheered. I sold a few books, which was nice. But even better was the feeling that – and maybe some of this was the wine – that people had actually connected with my work. Most of the folks there weren’t poets – in fact, the couple we shared our table with ended up being our down-the-street neighbors! Those are the times that readings feel worth doing. The moon was bright orange in the sky over the water as I left, happy, even more sore-throated, and exhausted, but happy I had pushed myself to go.

And I got the good news from Rose Red Review that they had nominated my poem “The Little Mermaid Loses Her Voice” for “Best of the Net” while I was at the reading. Thanks Rose Red Review! I really enjoyed the other nominated poems as well.

Today I spent the day with artist Michaela Eaves planning and collaborating for our October 6th Inaugural Reading/Art Exhibit. She’s doing an interactive art display on a screen during my reading that syncs up her art work to the different poems I’ll be reading, plus a conventional hanging of her work around the SecondStory Repertory theatre. We talked about introductions, wine, cupcakes, and other things that make readings great. I think it’s going to be a really good time. But I’ll admit I’m nervous about my first Redmond Poet Laureate reading! I hope it will be the fun kind of reading, not the other kind. Maybe the wine will help?

What do you think makes a reading work? What are the most important elements? And which are under a poet’s control, anyway? How do you know when to say yes to a reading? For me, it’s a combination of liking my fellow readers, liking the person that invited me, liking the venue – or, for me, and this is a risk – trying places I’ve never read before. Success at a poetry reading means more than book sales – it can mean finding a new poet’s work to love, making a new friend, or discovering a new venue you might ever have visited otherwise. But the simplest answer to “What makes a reading worthwhile” is “Did your work connect to a new reader? If so, then yes.”