performing

Yesterday, I undertook my first performance as a writer:  I read at a community event for the over 50s.  During my years working in health promotion for the NHS, I ran innumerable training programmes, gave talks at conferences.  Occasionally I have proposed toasts at family events.  Reading from my novel felt different.  Three days before agreeing to do this, I had declared to some writing friends - both of whom are seasoned performers - that
nothing  would induce me to read my work in public.

And the only reason I agreed to do this was because the extract was to be two - three minutes' long (not long enough for the audience to fall asleep or assemble their tomatoes).

This is what I learned in the lead up and from the performance itself:

1.  Promotional material is advisable - if you want to promote your work, which I do, (ideally from the safety of my writing desk).  So I put together a leaflet and took it to the printers.

2.  What you read on a page might not work when being read to an audience.  When I practised reading out loud I realised there were words that in a nervous state, I might stumble over, for example chrysanthemum-bedecked coffin.  So I got rid of the flowers.  I eliminated the odd descriptive sentence.  I played around with punctuation.

3.  From a website on performing, I gathered that the three things to avoid were:  reading too quickly, inadequate voice projection,  monotone.

Reading too quickly was something I could easily succumb to, especially when anxious.  All I could do was practise and practise.  I remembered a tip that had come to me at a conference where I was speaking.  During the speaker before me, while my heart was beating so hard it was bound to burst through my skin, I decided that when I reached the lectern I'd pause before starting.  This tip worked.  By doing that I grounded myself.  Had I started immediately, the words would have poured out and been incomprehensible.  I decided I'd use this technique yesterday.

To address the need for adequate volume, a microphone was provided.  I'd only used such a device once, and forgotten that there is only a narrow range of acceptable distance between your mouth and said object for it to amplify.  Thus my efforts at memorising bits of my text to allow me to look at my audience, were pointless.  I might ask for one of those pin-on microphones for Christmas!

As for avoiding a monotonous tone, the website advised underlining words to be emphasised, thus enabling a shift in tone.


So I read my extract.  It amazes me how my mind was capable of multi-tasking as I did so.  While I read, I was aware of my constantly shaking hands, that people would notice.  I was also aware there was nothing I could do to stop this trembling.  I was conscious of reading at a comprehensible pace, and that my voice sounded calmer than the rest of me.  Early on I became aware that I mustn't look up and around the room or else the microphone wouldn't work.  I was aware that I had to finish the text.

And so I got through it.  There wasn't much feedback.  One of my fellow readers patted my knee when I finished, but I don't know if this meant: 'Don't worry - you just need more practice.  You'll do better next time'.  Or: 'That was good.  The audience looked interested.'

What did encourage me was the thought that I could probably do this again.  Perhaps even a five minute slot, somewhere cosy, preferably without the need for a microphone, like a library.


Jane