Noo Yawk, Noo Yawk

So I've got myself a reading in NYC, at Poetry Club of the Bowery. The date is Sunday, October 10, from 2–4 in the afternoon, and I will be reading with Kyle McCord, Keith Montesano, and Amy Holman, all of whom have been published by Dream Horse Press. I have found it much easier to get readings with at least one other reader. It seems that event coordinators are just happier to not put all their eggs in one unknown basket. I mean, god forbid you have the floor or the podium or the mike for one whole hour and no one shows up but your pet dog, wagging its tail. Oddly, though I've invited others to read with me, and they've been happy to, I've yet to get an actual invite from another. But in case you, out there, are looking for someone to share the spotlight with you in a little bookstore or poetry venue, I'm still eager to get something going in Boston, in Portland and Seattle or other towns in the Northwest, and in other places in California. Or your town. Try me!

Oh, it's not that I love flogging the book. Introvert that I am, I rather hate it. But it is what one does. Chances are I'm not going to get invited on Oprah, so it's up to me, isn't it, to give Conjugated Visits a life.

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I want to publicly apologize for the whining and poor little me attitude above. Yes, this book thing is an uphill climb — or many uphill climbs — but that's just the way it is. And it's not true, either, that I haven't had any encouragement and offers to share the dance floor. Certainly, I've had people meeting me halfway!

So please (you know who you are) forgive me for kvetching. I was tired and tired of trying, that's all.