Chapter 33
I did a reading recently at Barb’s Soup’s On Café in Elmira . I was a little thrown at first because it’s divided into three rooms. A guitarist, Skip Dawg, was playing instrumentals. He took a break and I talked. When I finished, I sat down with my PR students and talked about the upcoming contest. When it was time for me to go on again, I went over to Skip and introduced myself while Joseph introduced me over the mic. The first reading went well, but few people were listening. I’ve played hundreds of gigs over the years and we were often just wallpaper. People wanted to talk with friends, tell jokes, drink. So I’m not bothered when I’m standing there, alone, talking to no one. The second time I went up, Skip was taking off his guitar. “Skip, I’d like to try something. Keep playing.” He looked surprised and uneasy. “I’ve never done anything like that before.” “Neither have I! I want to try it to see how music adds to the narrative.” “So you want me to play even while you’re talking?” “Yes, and when I read passages.” He agreed. When we finished there was applause. People came over afterward and commented on how great the reading sounded with the music. So, writers, poets, don’t be afraid to innovate. The next day I was in Owego , NY at Awakenings Café. The place was nearly full but no one was there to see me. There was no sound system so Joseph found a box and a table cloth. He set them on a table and put the book on display. I kept an eye on the customers. Again, after spending 30 years as a musician, you learn to read a crowd, or feel them. Finally, at 12:30 , I felt the time wasn’t exactly right, but it was as good as it was going to get. I walked to the middle of the room and held up my book. “I’m Dennis Miller and I wrote this novel, The Perfect Song. I started it in 1979 . . . .” They were all very polite, even the ones trying to read their newspaper. The folks at the table to my right seemed mildly interested. After I read a passage in the book, they seemed more interested. I sold a couple books and made some new friends. On the way home I felt a cold coming on. By Sunday night I was useless. Too much going on. I let the body and mind wear down. Next week: Synchronicity strikes again.
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