Ben Myers posted a funny article about authors and self-publicity in the Guardian today. The subject is the public readings of one's work.
"I would genuinely rather jiggle my bare genitals at an audience than do that."
*peers at the small photo of Ben Myers beside his article and smirks a little, a twinkle in her eye*
H'okay. I'm a secret show-off. Is that an oxymoron? I don't mean that I pretend not to like public speaking, I wouldn't go around saying "Oh noooooooo I couldn't!" while all the time knowing that I damn well could and wanted to.
But if you met me, you might not realise that I love public speaking, I like to hold an audience, I like to be the centre of (positive) attention. Ninja-like, I sneak my enthusiasm in there at the right moment. I just don't run around announcing it.
Aside from mention of the Myers' Family Jewels, the best thing about this article was the debate around the question of if it was fair to demand that authors should read their work in public.
Fair, when did fair come into it? I remember reading a recent article on Harper Lee and wondered how she has managed to remain such a recluse. Is it genius, that can afford to live above the hard graft of the rest of us?
I still plan to do readings. It will be nerve-wracking, underwear-changing stuff, I know. I might try and hire Ben Myers as my fluffer, if he'll jiggle.
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