my life as a writer / by vanessa

Here Hear that sound? It's the sound of big fat sigh of relief. Or me puking. Either way, my reading last night is behind me.

My friend, Scarlett, has been leading me through the onerous task of writing about stuff. Kinda like blog-stuff, but different. In addition to working with me, she also held a really cool writing class where for 5 weeks she took students through an hour of yoga, immediately followed by free writing, and then writing for performance.

Last night was the finale of her workshop and she also asked if I'd be willing to perform my work too. Perform? Hellz no. But I will read. (In the end, it turns out, both are the same.) I was blown away by the women who preceded me. Antonia and Shelly (sp?) had perfect delivery -- they nailed voices, singing, and really just had some serious acting chops. They were incredible.

I started to panic -- there were about 20 or so people and I didn't have any theatrics planned. What if people get up and leave? I thought about feigning leprosy and sneaking out the back. Everyone understands leprosy. I ended up going on because I couldn't figure out a quick way to make my skin peel off in sheets. I read 6 or 7 pieces from the collection I've written. I'm here to blog that I didn't die. Surprisingly, I guess it was kinda well-received. And I ended up really having fun. It's great - people sit there and listen to you and then they laugh and then I get to feel all validated. It's a relationship I could get used to.