The sky is that white gray that says, “Dude, I’m going to snow.” There is the silence that comes before a snow as if the heavy clouds muffle life and offer some relief from the rushing around we do. Of course, for me, this is especially true when I’m snowed in the driveway… But they’re only predicting 1/2 inch. Not enough to construct a snowman, or even much for Bear to roll in or leave me snowed in.
This evening I’m going to do my first ever public reading from one of my novels — I’ve chosen The Brothers Path because it’s the newest AND it’s a little easier to explain the context of the Protestant Reformation than it is leprosy, depression or the Crusades.
I think I’m ready. I’ve rehearsed dozens of times and even set up one of the “bad” copies of the book as a prop with my intro pasted into it like pages. I only have 7 minutes to speak/read which is both good and bad. It’s good for the listeners who won’t have to listen to a long lecture on the Reformation in Zürich, good for me because I don’t have to do this very long, but bad because without an intro, the chapter won’t make sense.
It’s made me think, again, of a novel as a world entered by a reader.