I have a friend named Kathy. I know her from Women in Black. Last year I gave an instore book reading for Relations: McEmpire
and Karen came to it. After my reading I was talking with her and her friend and they were telling me that they teach a class on wellness and writing, and maybe I could come and speak for their class sometime in the fall. I said sure. Sounded like a fun thing to do.
As the fall rolled around I had forgotten all about it. She called me and started talking about possible dates. I was feeling quite overwhelmed. Trying to finish off Relations: SMASH YOUR TV!
and trying to find a spare minute to work on my friend Christina's website, and working tons of hours to get some bills paid off. The class only met on Saturdays so that meant I would have to take a day off from work to go talk.
I tried to convey how difficult this was going to be for me to arrange figuring most people would just give up if it became to difficult to schedule. But Kathy had no such inclination, she was willing to call me as many times as it took. So a date got scheduled, Nov. 19th. And as the day was approaching I was feeling SUPER overwhelmed. I couldn't afford to take the day off so I asked my boss if I could come in late. The weekend was jammed packed with stuff. I wasn't getting enough sleep. I had absolutely no time to prepare anything, I would just have to go in and fill time basically. Not that that posed any big problem for me. I seem to do much better when I'm unprepared.
So the day kept getting closer and closer. I wasn't spending a lot of time stressing about it, but whenever I would think about it it seemed like suicide: trying to present for a class that I had no idea of the nature of even, and then go to work and then do all the other things I had to do that weekend. I had very serious thoughts about calling and canceling and just telling them I was sorry.
But I didn't do that. I went and found the place and met the people in the class and went through a bit of telling them about myself and asking them to tell me about themselves. Then I started to do my poetry thing and it just went really well. I was so well recieved. I had been trying to get myself into novelist mode and gear up to promote the new book. But from somewhere within, poet mode came roaring to the surface. It felt SO good.
Then during discussion they started talking about other poets, including one from my ice9 family. And then during announcements they announced a poetry gig for the following day where another friend of mine would be performing. And so a day later, instead of doing all of the stuff I was supposed to be doing, I found myself writing a poem to go perform as an open reader at a poetry gig that I totally had no time to attend. And that went AWESOME! My new poem was so well recieved. It was just a most awesome poetry weekend.
Then, today, Monday, my ice9 poetry friend, Anne, whom they had been discussing at Kathy's class, was on one of my favorite radio shows. And man, I just began missing my ice9 family so much. Being defunct is totally, totally dumb. We should totally quit being so damned defunct and just start existing again. Feeling like a I had a poetry family was a great feeling. We probably was taking up too much of our time, and I'm sure we've all become even busier of late, but I don't think it would take us much time to exist again. I see them individually or read about what they're doing from time to time, but that's nothing like how it used to be.
Okay. Gotta get myself back into novelist mode now.