On December 6, we presented When The Bough Breaks to the public with a reading and a celebration at the Carnegie Center. I had forgotten in the midst of publishing, sewing, and marketing the book how wonderful the written work is. Each of us read five minutes and each of us made the work new again.
Words weigh more when read out loud. When reading silently to yourself from the page, you hear your own voice, your own incantations and prejudices. But when the author reads, you hear her intent, her emphases and pauses and, hence, her meanings, as her voice feels its way from word to word, stone to stone through rapids, over falls, along placid streams, into reflecting pools.
It felt as if I was hearing these poems and stories and essays for the first time. So, it seems, we begin again. I left that celebration brimming with good cheer. What a joy again to be part of this enterprise. What gladness at our individual and collaborative triumph. What gratitude for the reading public who appreciate this book, this venture, this claim.
Lynn
On Saturday, September 12, Kaboom gave a presentation at the Kentucky Women Writers Conference. We held a meeting as if the audience was not there. As usual, we began with goal-setting. As usual, Leatha arrived late, and as usual, we kept on going. Each of us stated a writing goal for this week. Goal-setting makes us accountable to the group.
We moved on to a live critique of four pages from “Blue Hen,” a chapter in my novel-in-progress. The first round robin elicited such praise that I felt almost embarrassed, as if my fellow writers were exaggerating the good points for the audience. But because they explained how the piece worked and pointed out particular passages of support, I felt encouraged and pleased that my intent had been realized. Then, of course, came the harder parts, the places where rhythm contradicted sense, where details were left out, where (strange) questions were raised. (This is often my favorite part of hearing criticism because it makes me go back to the words and discover what other meanings lay hidden as I wrote but rose up bright and blinding for a reader.) (Read more…)
