March 3, 2013
Last Thursday we went to Open Books in Chicago for an Evening of Speculative Fiction. Seven Chicago authors read to us and all I could think was...man I want to be them. Okay, this is not necessarily my genre. I've never been a big sic-fi reader (over my head) or fantasy (ditto). Horror was always something I devoured (King, Koontz, Saul, the big ones) as a reader but never could I write horror.
My work has always been in what is considered the genre of romance. I cringe even admitting that. I've been known to advertise myself as a "chick lit" writer which makes me kinda nauseous. My writing has that girl likes guy, guy likes guy "stuff" (it even gets a bit raunchy, yay porn), but the heart of it is an actual story.
But back to wanting to be these utterly brilliant people onstage at Open Books (and yes, you should go there and buy books for crying out loud). I would be perfectly happy with standing onstage reading something of mine to people who want to hear it. As nervous as I was over a month ago at Mary's Attic for Your Being Ridiculous's holiday themed event where I read my little story "The 12 XXX Days of Christmas", I have to admit I am still high on the adrenalin from being in front of that crowd. And I am crossing my fingers I can do it again. It motivated me big time.
Thursday night at Open Books kicked my ass into high gear. Last night, instead of trying to force myself to go to sleep, I edited a chapter in my current novel. I want to be like those people onstage, who have their work published. Even if my book is a piece of dog turd, it'll be my published dog turd.
Also, note to all of you: You don't have to be a writer to enjoy something like a live read at Open Books. It's like you don't have to be a drinker to go to a bar, you don't have to be Italian to enjoy Italian food. Go to these events. Listen to these stories. Support these local authors, local businesses, especially book stores! Cancel cable!
Okay, I'm not that crazy. I mean The Walking Dead is on tonight.