Came across Jason over at Bark, the blog entity for Willow Springs, talking about this story from Lauren Becker, especially in the sense of how fun it is to read.
A couple months ago, I read at a really great reading in Chicago put on by PANK. So many good friends there: Roxane Gay, Sarah Rose Etter, Tadd Adcox, Tim Jones-Yelvington, Jessica Dyer, to name a few. I got saucy. People kept buying me drinks. I got loud on bourbon. I started getting a couple dirty looks. I started loudly declaring, “Poetry is serious business!” to all those around me. I wrote it on my hand. I said it to Sarah a dozen times at least. I wrote it on her hand. I made an ass of myself.
To those who were reading while I was in this state, I apologize. It was disrespectful, I know.
But, I do have to say, even while in this state, there were those readers who stopped me dead in my throat, who read words that were obviously meant to be read in a way that showed they recognized the venue they were in. Their voices and words carried in a way that captured me, even through my whiskey belligerence. They cut straight through the noise of me, of those around me, begged and demanded silence, attention.
I’ve seen Lauren read a couple times now, and she understands this. She is a good, fun writer. She is a good, fun reader. She is a good, fun person.
I bought your book. Used. But, still. I bought it. It was mean. I dropped it hard on the floor when I finished. You didn’t have to keep the ending. I took a picture of my foot stepping on your face. You liked my feet. You would like this picture.