Reading at the Hotel Café
Possibly the third worst reading I’ve ever done. I just couldn’t catch my breath. I couldn’t see because of the stage lighting. The promoter had some issue with me. Two days before the reading he emailed me saying: “a lot of your writing has to do with shooting up, could you read something about bank robbery instead?” Which kind of threw me. Well, actually it pissed me off. Like as if I hadn’t already decided on what I was going to read. Like I was so unprofessional that two days before a reading I wasn’t prepared. And I don’t even want to begin discussing why a promoter thinks he has the right to tell a writer what to read. So I didn’t respond to his email, and at the reading the promoter flubbed my intro and just said, “Patrick, come up here and read.” Oddly he didn’t have this problem with the other readers. It was stupid, childish, and passive aggressive. But I let it get to me. I wasn’t feeling that well to begin with. My nerves were shot, I was outta my mind. It wasn’t pretty – and it shows.
Yet it was a great evening. I got to read with my friends and favorite writers:
And the musical guests: Speedbuggy, with Billy Pitman, rocked the house.
Thanks to everyone that showed up – you know who you are.