Reading My Own Stuff

Nine days out from the reading at the Berthoud Literary Festival – then two in Da Bronx – and I’m surprisingly nervous.

You see, no one watches you write something.

With The Claire Saga, for instance, I could not tell you exactly how I wrote The Wise Ass. I just know that after seeing to my Claire related chores, I sat down each morning about this time,

Claire was my daily inspiration. She was the only one who knew I was writing a novel. But like my mother when I was growing up, once I committed to the task, she made sure I stuck with it. A couple of chapters a day kept appearing on the screen. Suddenly, 12 weeks later, there was a book.

Now, I’m not sure how to explain this. I have no detailed recall of the writing process.

I sit in front of the computer screen, and just release my fingers on a keyboard.

I don’t know what I’m going to write but I generally know there’s an idea in my head. You see, my mind likes to keep me occupied during most of my waking hours by constantly telling me stories in the background of my daily routines. Daydreams. Walter Mitty kind of thing. Like leaving a television running in the living room while you go about cleaning the rest of the house. You may glance at it once in a while when you pass, but you are never quite sure what is going on.

So yes, all of you people who know me, there was a reason for my vacant stare.

Since most of the characters are physically based on people I know, their descriptions are pre formed, like memories.

It actually became easier as more of my friends from the past offered to join the Claire Collective as good and bad characters in The Claire Saga.

I let the story and characters take it where they want to go. They say and do whatever they want. I never rein them in.

I never read what I wrote back beyond the last sentence of my daily output. I know what happened, like in a dream, but I do not recall the actual written words. Or the actual writing itself.

Lisa was the first human to read TWA after it was finished. She’s not one to shine someone on. Her face was expressionless.

“It’s good.” No more, no less. No explanation.

I was sure it was a one and done adventure that would sit in my drawer until my children found it after I was dead. I just wanted to see if I could do it. A bucket list event.

I’ll save the story of Claire’s, Lisa and my reaction when Black Rose Writing told me that they wanted to publish TWA for another blog.

When TWA took off, I was as surprised as the next person. Shocked.

But after TWA took off, my publisher asked if there was any more in the hopper.

So, I tried it again.

The process is always the same. I sit in a darkened room during the Witching Hour and – in my case – just zone out in front of a bright blank screen. A few hours later the typing pool elves have worked their magic (thank God shoemaking became industrialized, these local elves were dying to transition into something a little less leathery).

Once I come too and see that there is another chapter saved on the screen, I pop it into emails to the latest ensemble of inner circle readers – volunteers from across the country collected from the most loyal of readers of the earlier book(s) who know the work inside and out and keep me and the story on the straight and narrow – and then wait for their yay or nay that evening in a return email.

Lisa is part of that inner circle. Hand hard copy delivery. Although she’s more likely to let the work accumulate for a few days before reading it. I mean, someone needs to keep Casa Claire running.

Her response is always and only “it’s good.”

High praise indeed.

I’ve told her that those words will appear on her headstone.

Claire always demands that I tell her each story as it progresses each day. Usually when I’m brushing her. I do what I can to recall what has happened like a film and she just snatches it from my mind.

After a while there’s enough pages saved for the next book. I pop it off to Reagan Rothe.

Then, rinse and repeat. Five novels in four years.

But, as I mentioned, no one actually watches me do this (except the elves) so I never feel any pressure.

And I have never read any of the books cover to cover once they are published.

Feels too weird.

So, when I have to do readings, it’s almost painful for me to go back and find certain events in The Claire Saga storyline that I hope will be interesting enough when repeated in my nasal Bronx accent voice.

What the fuck do I know? I’m just the messenger.

And the weird thing is that I get very emotional when I am reading these selections out loud because its like watching my close family members and friends with their daily successes and struggles. I feel for them. And forget about it if one of my characters pass. I’m a mess.

Unless it’s one of my brothers. Never should have taught the runt of the litter to type.

Oh yeah, I really enjoyed the way BC got resolved in KMAG. (But I made it up to him as a character under another name in FJM)

I do a lot of throat clearing and lip biting at my readings, and will sometimes stare up at the ceiling for a moment to keep the tears in check.

Not very manly, but there you are.

I’ve watched my writer friends do readings and I am always amazed.

Listening to the wonderful and talented writer, Colin Broderick, with his lilting Irish brogue, is like eating the comfort food of your choice. So if you ever get the chance to get to one of his readings, don’t miss it. If he shows up at any of my Bronx readings, maybe I can get him to do a short reading.

Same is true for the BIC Poet, Theresa Daly, who has this wonderful Bronx/Ireland hybrid voice and accent. Again, if she shows up, maybe she’ll read a poem or two.

And, if I am lucky enough to have any of you fine, five readers at any of my up and coming readings this month, my apologies in advance if I screw it up. But please say hello.

I will do my best. For what that’s worth.

But now, like Slim Shady, I need to get back to reality.

Kitties to cuddle, rounds to make, and work to do.

And, no matter whatever else we may get up to, let us make today a great one.