Open Mic

I went to an open mike event this evening. Was fun, once we all figured out the quirks of the microphone. Funny watching people try to use a mike -- some people spoke right into it, up close, and at the first big P the thing popped and shut down. Some bent over trying to placate it, which of course made it hard to read.

I usually start off with "Newspaper". I hope to have my "Afterlife 9" chapbook printed early this year. So I'll have the whole she-bang in hand, ready to do. Since those poems mostly started off as songs, I can just cue the music in my head and recite the words from memory. Though I do have to skip the instrumental bits. Anyway, it's a good icebreaker.

And I had "the Other secret house" for down-to-earth breaks. Plus the "something old, something new" printouts for the poetry reading that was rained out on New Year's Eve.

I wish I had brought my short skit "4th and Z". Seemed like the perfect crowd for that. TLR was there, we wrote a big nasty poem together a few months back, yet we both forgot to bring copies.

On the weird side, I sold my sample copy of my fractal art calendar. That's good. But when I went to reorder 4 more copies, all the regular shipping options were gone, and there was only Express Mail for 30 stinking dollars. I posted a bug report and was told that the shipping options are correct. Funny how people just don't believe their websites could ever do anything wrong. I paid $2.49 shipping the last time I ordered. So I know there were cheaper options, just a week & a half ago.

I continue trying to pull coherent stories out of a pal's dream blog. Not easy. Dreams are free to meander senselessly. A story should at least have the illusion of purpose or drive ...

 

Note from 2024: this was copied over from my AuthorsDen blog that I had forgotten about.