Last Saturday I re-entered the arena with my very first author appearance at the library here in Hillsboro, Oregon. (Arena? Yeah, it was a real Thunderdome) To say it went swimmingly would be both an under and over statement. That's me alright. Under and over, around and through.
Over-wise, it was a small (nay, minuscule) affair with only a handful in attendance, most of which I filled myself (totally grateful for all family and friends that showed).The library events director, the person who helped put this together, said that author readings tend to have very small audiences and that I shouldn't take it personally, which I didn't. She seemed to be pleased that anyone showed at all, which I also didn't take to heart.
When Grant-Lee Phillips visited Portland in January for a concert, I expressed my anxiety over lunch and felt rather embarrassed that I used my friend as a therapeutic backboard. I mentioned it on the dreaded Facebook and fortunately I know a lot of great people who gave me some much needed encouragement even though I felt so insipidly needy about mentioning my stage fright at all. But hey, I had a lot riding on it. The stakes were my very existence. Fine. I made a u-turn into overstatement again. So sue me. It's my life. I know what it all meant. Part of me actually wanted to fail so I could go back to my non-existence, but fortunately, the real me prevailed and won the day.
I done good.
Now it's time to move forward.