Building a Readership: Five Paths for Poets, Path 5.

Published on July 27, 2026July 20, 2026 by diannePLeave a comment

PATH 5: Take That First Step

One Collection Leads to Another

Many poets spend years submitting individual poems to journals, attending readings, participating in workshops, and building relationships within the literary community. These activities are valuable and often necessary. Yet at some point, many poets begin asking a different question:

“When is it time to put a collection together?”

For some writers, the answer arrives naturally. A group of poems begins to speak to one another. Certain themes emerge. Images recur. The manuscript starts to feel less like a collection of individual works and more like a conversation taking place across dozens of pages.

For others, the decision is more difficult. Many poets delay publishing a collection because they worry they are not ready, that they have not accumulated enough publication credits, or that they have not yet found a traditional publisher. While those concerns are understandable, they sometimes prevent writers from sharing work that is already prepared to meet readers.

One of the great misconceptions about poetry publishing is that publication itself is the finish line. In reality, publication is often the beginning of a new stage in a poet’s development.

A collection gives readers a place to go.

Someone may enjoy a poem in a journal, hear you at a reading, or discover your work through social media. A collection allows those readers to spend more time with your voice and ideas. It transforms a series of individual encounters into a deeper relationship between writer and reader.

Collections also create opportunities that individual poems sometimes cannot. A published book can lead to readings, interviews, festival appearances, workshop invitations, review opportunities, podcast conversations, and future publishing projects. It becomes a calling card for your work and a record of your growth as a writer.

This is one reason many poets discover that one collection often leads to another.

The process of assembling, revising, publishing, and promoting a manuscript teaches skills that carry into future projects. You learn how poems work together. You learn how readers respond to your work. You learn what aspects of publishing you enjoy and which ones you would rather delegate to others. Most importantly, you gain confidence from completing a substantial creative project.

Fortunately, poets today have more publishing options than ever before.

Some writers pursue traditional publication through independent presses, university presses, and literary publishers. This route can provide editorial support, distribution, and professional recognition, but it often requires patience. Many presses receive far more manuscripts than they can publish, and response times can stretch for months.

Others choose to self-publish. This approach offers complete creative control and allows poets to move forward on their own timeline. Modern print-on-demand services have made self-publishing more accessible than ever. However, self-publishing also requires authors to manage editing, design, formatting, distribution, and promotion themselves or hire professionals to assist with those tasks.

A third option involves working with a partner publisher, cooperative press, or author-services organization. These arrangements often combine professional support with greater author involvement and control. Depending on the organization, responsibilities and costs may be shared in different ways. For many poets, this middle path provides a balance between independence and guidance.

The best choice depends on your goals. Some poets value the prestige associated with a traditional press. Others prioritize speed, flexibility, or creative control. Still others appreciate a collaborative approach that allows them to remain closely involved in the process while receiving professional assistance.

Whatever path you choose, remember that a collection does not need to be perfect before it can be published. Every published poet can point to lines they would revise differently years later. Growth does not stop when a book is released. In many ways, publication simply marks the next stage of the journey.

This is particularly important for poets who find themselves waiting endlessly for permission to move forward. A manuscript sitting unread on a hard drive reaches no one. A collection in the hands of readers has the opportunity to create conversations, build connections, and leave a lasting impression.

That does not mean every manuscript should be rushed into print. Thoughtful revision remains essential. Feedback matters. Professional editing can strengthen a collection dramatically. The goal is not speed for its own sake. The goal is to avoid allowing fear, perfectionism, or uncertainty to keep a finished project hidden forever.

Many poets spend years hoping someone will discover them. There is nothing wrong with pursuing traditional publication, and many excellent collections find homes that way. At the same time, poets today have more choices than previous generations. If your work is ready, there may be more than one path to publication.

After all, the purpose of a collection is not simply to exist. It is to be read.

The poems you’ve spent years writing deserve the opportunity to find readers. And sometimes the first collection does more than reach an audience. Sometimes it gives you the confidence, experience, and momentum to begin the next one.

This concludes our five-part series on building a readership for poetry. We hope you’ve found a few ideas worth trying, whether you’re just beginning to share your work or preparing your next collection. We’d love to hear from you. Which strategies have helped you find readers? What challenges are you facing? And what topics would you like to see us explore next? Leave a comment below, connect with us on social media, or reach out through the Old Scratch Press website. Old Scratch Press exists because poets learn from one another, and we’d love your ideas for future articles and series you’d like to see us tackle.

NEW OPPORTUNITY

We’re also launching a new occasional contributor feature called “What’s One Thing You Wish Someone Had Told You?” Poetry is full of lessons we often learn the hard way, and we’d love to share some of that wisdom with the community. If there’s one thing you wish you’d known earlier about writing, submitting, publishing, readings, workshops, marketing, or the poetry life in general, consider writing a short guest article of 500-800 words.

Authors whose articles are selected will be featured on the Old Scratch Press website and along with a short biography, links to their website and social media, and one poem of their choice, whether previously published or not. Our goal is to help poets share both their experience and their work with a wider audience.

If you’re interested, send your article or proposal to guestpost@oldscratchpress.com. We look forward to learning from your experiences.

Building a Readership: Five Paths for Poets, Path 4.

Published on July 21, 2026June 23, 2026 by diannePLeave a comment

PATH 4: The Long Game

Workshops, Community, and the Long Game of Poetry

Many poets begin writing in solitude. A notebook, a keyboard, a quiet room, and a handful of ideas are often all that’s required to start. Yet while poetry is frequently written alone, few poets build a lasting writing life entirely by themselves.

One of the most valuable resources available to poets is community.

For some writers, that community takes the form of a workshop. For others, it may be a reading group, an online gathering, a local poetry organization, or an informal circle of trusted readers. Whatever form it takes, a strong community can help poets grow, remain motivated, and continue writing through the inevitable ups and downs of the creative process.

Workshops, in particular, offer several benefits. They provide opportunities to receive feedback, hear how readers interpret your work, and identify strengths and weaknesses that may be difficult to see on your own. A thoughtful workshop can help a poet sharpen individual poems while also developing skills that carry into future projects.

At the same time, workshops are not simply about critique. Some of the most valuable lessons come from reading and discussing the work of others. Evaluating another poet’s choices often teaches us as much about writing as receiving feedback on our own poems.

For poets who have never participated in a workshop, finding one is often easier than expected. Local libraries, community colleges, arts organizations, independent bookstores, and writing centers frequently host workshops. Online options have expanded dramatically in recent years, making it possible to connect with poets from around the world without leaving home.

For poets wondering where to begin, there are more options than ever before. Local libraries, community colleges, independent bookstores, arts organizations, and state poetry societies frequently host workshops and discussion groups. Many literary journals, writing centers, and nonprofit arts organizations also offer virtual workshops that allow writers to participate from anywhere.

If you’re looking online, start by following organizations such as Poets & Writers, The Writers Center, local arts councils, and poetry organizations in your region. Facebook groups, Bluesky communities, and writer-focused newsletters can also help uncover opportunities. Don’t overlook literary events themselves. Many workshops are discovered through readings, conferences, and conversations with other writers.

As you explore, remember that workshops serve different purposes. Some focus on craft and detailed critique. Others emphasize accountability, encouragement, or community. Before committing to a long-term group, ask yourself what you hope to gain. Are you trying to improve individual poems? Complete a manuscript? Meet other poets? Build confidence sharing your work? The answers can help you find a community that fits your goals.

One final suggestion: don’t wait for the perfect workshop. Attend a reading. Join an online discussion. Participate in a one-day class. Introduce yourself to another poet. Literary communities are rarely built through a single dramatic step. More often, they grow through a series of small, consistent acts of participation.

When choosing a workshop, it is worth remembering that not every group will be the right fit. Some focus heavily on craft. Others emphasize encouragement and accountability. Some are highly structured, while others are more conversational. If one group does not feel productive or welcoming, that does not mean workshops are not for you. It may simply mean you have not yet found the right community.

Community also plays an important role beyond the workshop itself. The poetry world is built on relationships. The poets you meet today may become future collaborators, readers, editors, event organizers, or simply trusted friends who understand the unique challenges of the writing life.

Many opportunities arise through these relationships. Invitations to readings, recommendations for journals, introductions to editors, and collaborative projects often emerge through conversations within the literary community. While talent and hard work remain essential, few poets navigate the literary landscape entirely alone.

Perhaps most importantly, community helps sustain writers over the long term.

The reality is that poetry rarely offers immediate rewards. Publication may take months or years. Collections can require years to complete. Rejections are common. Audience growth is usually gradual. Writers who expect quick results often become discouraged.

This is where community becomes invaluable. Fellow poets understand the excitement of an acceptance, the disappointment of a rejection, the frustration of a stalled manuscript, and the satisfaction of finally solving a difficult line. They remind us that we are not working in isolation and that the challenges we face are shared by many others.

The most successful poets are not always the most talented. Often, they are the ones who remain engaged long enough for their work to mature. They continue reading, writing, revising, submitting, and participating in the literary world year after year.

This is the long game of poetry.

A workshop will not instantly transform your writing. Joining a community will not guarantee publication. Neither will produce thousands of readers overnight. What they can provide is something far more valuable: growth, support, accountability, and connection.

Over time, those small advantages accumulate. One workshop leads to stronger poems. Stronger poems lead to publications. Publications lead to readings. Readings lead to new readers and new opportunities. A writing life is rarely built through a single breakthrough. More often, it is built through years of showing up, learning, and participating.

If you’re looking to build a readership, don’t focus only on promotion. Invest in community as well. The relationships you build along the way may ultimately become one of the most rewarding parts of your poetry journey.

Building a Readership: Five Paths for Poets, Path 3.

Published on July 14, 2026June 23, 2026 by diannePLeave a comment

PATH 3: Social Media

Using Social Media Without Losing Your Mind

Mention social media to a group of poets and you’ll likely get a wide range of reactions. Some embrace it enthusiastically. Others tolerate it reluctantly. A few would happily throw their phones into the nearest lake if they thought it would help them write more poems.

If you’re trying to build a readership, social media can be a useful tool. The challenge is remembering that it is a tool, not a destination.

Many writers approach social media with unrealistic expectations. They assume they need thousands of followers, viral posts, or a constant stream of content in order to be successful. In reality, most poets build readership the same way they build literary communities: slowly, one connection at a time. Poets with fifty engaged readers who genuinely care about their work are often in a stronger position than someone with thousands of followers who rarely interact with what they post. Readers matter more than numbers.

One of the most common mistakes poets make is treating every post as a sales pitch. Constantly asking people to buy a book, attend an event, or subscribe to a newsletter can quickly exhaust an audience. Social media works best when it feels like a conversation rather than an advertisement. Consider sharing parts of your writing life instead. Talk about a poem you’re working on. Share a favorite line from a poet you admire. Discuss a recent reading you attended. Recommend a literary journal. Celebrate another writer’s success. Give people a reason to follow you beyond the occasional book announcement.

It is also important to remember that not every platform serves the same purpose. Some poets enjoy Instagram’s visual focus. Others prefer Facebook groups, Bluesky, Substack, Threads, or TikTok. Rather than trying to maintain a presence everywhere, choose one or two platforms that feel comfortable and sustainable.

One of the most effective ways to use social media is to join existing communities rather than trying to build an audience from scratch. Look for groups dedicated to poetry, books, literary journals, reading challenges, independent publishing, or genres that align with your work. Readers are already gathering in these spaces. Your goal is not to convince everyone to read your poetry. Your goal is to find the people who already enjoy poetry and become part of the conversation.

The key is to participate as a community member first and a writer second. Read what others post. Offer encouragement. Share recommendations. Celebrate successes. Ask thoughtful questions. People are far more likely to become interested in your work when they know you as a person rather than someone who appears only to promote a book or drop a link. In other words, don’t treat social media groups as billboards. Treat them as communities. The strongest literary relationships often develop through genuine conversations that have little to do with selling anything at all.

Consistency generally matters more than volume. Posting once or twice a week for a year will often accomplish more than posting twenty times a day for two weeks and then disappearing for six months. Readers appreciate reliability far more than intensity. Social media can also be a valuable way to discover opportunities. Many literary journals, bookstores, festivals, workshops, and reading series announce events through their social media accounts. Following organizations you admire can help you stay informed about submission calls, readings, contests, and publishing opportunities.

At the same time, poets should be careful not to confuse visibility with productivity. It is possible to spend hours discussing writing online without actually writing. Most readers ultimately care about the poems themselves, not the number of posts that appeared along the way.

One helpful question to ask is this: “Would I still do this if nobody clicked ‘like’?” If the answer is yes, you’re probably using social media in a healthy way. If the answer is no, it may be worth reconsidering how much time and emotional energy you’re investing in the platform.

It is also important to remember that social media tends to reward attention-grabbing content, while poetry often rewards reflection, patience, and subtlety. A post that receives little engagement is not necessarily unimportant. Likewise, a viral post is not necessarily meaningful. The value of your work cannot be measured by an algorithm.

For many poets, the healthiest approach is to view social media as a bridge rather than a home. Use it to connect with readers, discover opportunities, support fellow writers, and share your work. Then log off and return to the page.

The poets who seem most comfortable online are often those who understand this balance. They participate in conversations, support their communities, and remain visible, but they do not allow social media to become the center of their creative lives.

In the end, readers are built through relationships, not algorithms. Social media can help create those relationships, but it cannot replace the work of writing good poems, supporting other writers, and participating in the literary community.

Use social media if it serves your goals. Ignore the pressure to be everywhere at once. Share your work, encourage others, and remember that the most important part of being a poet still happens away from the screen.

Building a Readership: Five Paths for Poets, Path 2.

Published on July 7, 2026June 23, 2026 by diannePLeave a comment

PATH 2: Literary Journals

Why Literary Journals Still Matter

When poets talk about building a readership, literary journals are often one of the first recommendations they receive. Yet many writers, especially those outside academic circles, wonder whether journals still matter in an age of websites, social media, and self-publishing.

The short answer is yes.

Literary journals remain one of the most accessible ways for poets to introduce their work to new readers, establish publishing credentials, and become part of the broader literary conversation. While publication in a journal rarely leads to instant fame or large sales numbers, it can help create the foundation upon which a readership is built.

For many poets, journals provide something equally important: discovery. Readers who may never have encountered your work otherwise can stumble across a poem in a magazine, become interested in your writing, and begin following your career. Editors, event organizers, workshop leaders, and fellow poets often discover new voices through journals as well.

If you’re new to submissions, finding journals is easier than ever. Resources such as Chill Subs, Duotrope, Poets & Writers, New Pages, and the Community of Literary Magazines and Presses (CLMP) maintain extensive databases of literary magazines and submission opportunities. Many journals also maintain active social media accounts where they announce open reading periods, special themes, and contests.

One of the most common mistakes beginning poets make is submitting without first reading the publication. Whenever possible, spend some time with a journal before sending your work. Read several poems. Pay attention to the styles, themes, and voices the editors seem to favor. Not because you should imitate them, but because you’ll gain a better sense of whether your work is likely to be a good fit.

Many journals now accept submissions through online platforms such as Submittable and Moksha. These systems make it easy to track submissions, but they have also increased competition by making it easier for writers to submit widely. Rejection remains a normal part of the process. Even accomplished poets accumulate large numbers of rejections throughout their careers.

At some point, every poet encounters the question of reading fees. Some journals charge a small fee, often between two and five dollars, to help cover administrative costs, software subscriptions, and staff expenses. Others operate entirely without fees. Opinions vary widely on the practice. Some writers avoid reading fees altogether, while others are comfortable paying modest amounts to support journals they respect.

There is no single correct approach. However, poets should be thoughtful about where they spend their money. A small fee for a well-established publication may be reasonable. Paying large amounts to submit work to unknown organizations is generally less advisable. As with any publishing opportunity, it pays to do a little research before opening your wallet.

Another decision involves print versus digital publications. Some poets strongly prefer print journals because they enjoy seeing their work in a physical publication and because print journals often carry a certain prestige. Others appreciate the accessibility of online journals, where poems can be discovered by readers around the world with a simple click.

The truth is that both formats offer advantages. Print journals provide permanence and a tangible reading experience. Online journals often offer broader reach, searchable archives, and the possibility of sharing links directly with readers. Many respected literary publications now operate in both formats, making the distinction less important than it once was.

It is also worth remembering that publication credits are not merely lines on a résumé. Every journal publication expands your visibility. A handful of well-placed poems can lead to invitations to readings, relationships with editors, opportunities for future publication, and readers who may eventually purchase your collection.

For poets considering a future book project, journal publication can be especially valuable. Individual poems published over time help establish a track record of activity and engagement within the literary community. They can also provide useful feedback about which poems resonate most strongly with readers and editors.

At the same time, don’t fall into the trap of believing that journal publication is the only path to legitimacy. Many excellent poets publish widely in journals. Many others build readership through readings, workshops, social media, teaching, community engagement, or independent publishing. Literary journals are one tool among many.

Ultimately, journals matter because they help connect poems with readers. They provide opportunities for discovery, conversation, and community. For poets seeking to build a readership, submitting to journals remains one of the most practical and effective ways to begin sharing work beyond their immediate circle.

If you’ve been considering submitting your poetry, start small. Find a few journals you genuinely enjoy reading, study their guidelines, and send your work into the world. Every publication began with a first submission, and every poet who appears in a journal today was once a writer nervously pressing “submit” for the very first time.

Building a Readership: Five Paths for Poets, Path 1.

Published on June 30, 2026June 23, 2026 by diannePLeave a comment

PATH 1: Building a Readership Through Poetry Readings

When poets talk about building an audience, the conversation often turns immediately to social media, websites, and marketing strategies. While those tools can certainly help, many poets overlook one of the oldest and most effective ways to find readers: reading their work aloud.

Poetry began as an oral art form. Long before poems appeared in books, journals, and websites, they were shared through voice and performance. Even today, a strong reading can create a connection that no social media post can match.

Many poets hesitate to participate in readings because they assume they need a published collection, a large following, or years of experience before they are ready. In reality, most reading communities welcome poets at a wide range of experience levels. Open mics, community events, library programs, and local literary gatherings can all provide opportunities to share your work.

If you’re wondering where to begin, start by looking close to home. Libraries, independent bookstores, arts organizations, community colleges, literary festivals, and local writing groups often host readings and open mics. Social media can also help uncover opportunities. Follow poets, literary journals, bookstores, and writing organizations in your region and pay attention to the events they promote. You may discover that there are more opportunities to share your work than you realized.

Don’t overlook virtual events. Organizations such as Poetry Super Highway, The Writers Center, Poets & Writers, and many regional poetry groups regularly host online readings and open mics. Event calendars on Poets & Writers and Eventbrite can also help uncover opportunities throughout the year. Many poets have built meaningful friendships, readerships, and professional connections through virtual events they attended from their own living rooms.

screenshot of poets and writers event calendar

The benefits extend far beyond the reading itself. Every event introduces you to people who care about poetry. You meet other writers, potential readers, organizers, editors, and booksellers. Over time, these connections begin to form a literary community around your work.

Readings can also help you become a stronger poet. A poem that works beautifully on the page may reveal weaknesses when read aloud. Awkward phrasing, confusing transitions, and unnecessary words often become more obvious when spoken. The audience’s reaction can also teach you a great deal about how your work is being received.

One common misconception is that poetry readings only matter if they lead directly to book sales. While selling books is certainly welcome, the larger goal is visibility. Readers are far more likely to remember a poet whose work they have heard than a name they happened to scroll past online. Every reading plants seeds that may grow into future opportunities, whether that means invitations to other events, journal recommendations, workshop connections, or eventual book purchases.

For poets who are shy or nervous, it can help to start small. Attend a reading before signing up to participate. Read a single poem at an open mic. Volunteer to share work at a workshop or community event. Confidence grows with practice, and most poetry audiences are remarkably supportive.

If you have a collection available, bring copies. If you maintain a website, newsletter, or social media account, mention it briefly. Have a simple way for interested readers to stay connected. The goal is not to deliver a sales pitch, but to make it easy for people who enjoyed your work to find you again.

Perhaps most importantly, remember that building a readership happens one reader at a time. Very few poets wake up to discover thousands of devoted followers. Most audiences are built through repeated acts of showing up, sharing work, and participating in the literary community.

A successful poetry reading is not measured solely by the number of books sold or the size of the audience. Sometimes success looks like a conversation after the event, an invitation to read elsewhere, or a single person who tells you that your poem stayed with them long after the evening ended.

Poetry is meant to be read, but it is also meant to be heard. If you’re looking for ways to build a readership, consider stepping up to the microphone. You may discover that your next reader is already sitting in the audience.

Just as importantly, be willing to sit in the audience yourself. Attend readings even when you’re not on the program. Support fellow poets. Listen carefully to their work. Literary communities thrive when writers show up for one another, and some of the most meaningful friendships, opportunities, and collaborations begin simply by being present. The poets who consistently support others often find that support returned when it is their turn to step up to the microphone.

Do you know of a virtual event that readers can apply to? Leave it in the comments, and we’ll share it!

Like a blot from the blue: Are you reading your work?

Published on August 10, 2025 by diannePLeave a comment

Recently Robert Fleming was nice enough to get Old Scratch Press booked on Like a blot from the blue. Robert Fleming, Gabby Gilliam, Anthony Doyle, Alan Bern, Virginia (Ginny) Watts, and I showed up. I gave a little information on Old Scratch Press; Gabby gave some information Instant Noodles, and Anthony and Ginny read from their new books. Being there and presenting to an international audience was a fantastic opportunity for us, and the folks there were great.

What I liked even more were the other people who showed up.

I’m going to guess that there were about 30 people who showed up who were not us, one of whom was Fin Hall, the blot-in-chief. It was clear that many of these folks had been attending regularly for quite some time. One at a time, in turn, based on when they signed up, Fin called on each person, and the author read 1-3 poems, depending on length.

When I was in my twenties and thirties, which, sadly, I am not any more, I used to read at LIP (live, in person) open mics all the time, and I would often have to hang in until midnight to get my chance. Usually these were held in bars in Philadelphia, or in West Chester, Pennsylvania. I did my best to dress as “punk rock” as possible, and my general aim, if I’m honest, was to get laid. It’s frankly shocking how few times that happened, when that was clearly my intent. I usually had on a mini skirt and was showing cleavage, but, in truth, people who knew me then told me then, and will reiterate the very same thing today, that me punked-out and showing cleavage was, somehow, still giving Julie Andrews when what I was going for was Grace Slick. Ah well.

In any case, the thrill of reading, and the thrill of possibly getting lucky, and the location (always bars) also meant that, in all likelihood, by the time they got to me on the sign-up list, I was hella drunk. I was a smoker (Benson and Hedges 100s back then), but because I was also a poser: at those events I came with a pack of Dunhill Blue.

Waaaay too expensive to smoke all the time, but on open mic nights I always stopped at the news agent’s (Philadelphia had news agents!) to get a pack beforehand.

A few times/year the venues would ask me to be the featured reader, and I think that was because I was also volunteering with a little Zine called Magic Bullet (run by Andrew Craig, wherever he is today), which I had quite a few publications in, and, who knows, maybe I was good.

I was working my way through an MA and then an MFA from my twenties into my thirties, and my professors seemed to think I was good, as well, and I won the student awards each year, so maybe. When I read at the school events I was not drunk, but neither was I nervous, perhaps because my professors made me feel gifted.

And then, sometime around the end of my last degree, life took a turn. My very long relationship went very south. Another relationship pooped too quickly, and flamed out just as fast, and I remember I felt, while I was still prolific as a poet, that I had somehow lost at life. I wanted, you see, to become a published poet and a professor, and a spouse, and a parent, and I wanted all four things to work out perfectly, and just none of them did.

My life, then, became a series of edits. If it didn’t work to have the man with the red hair, then cut him from the piece, and write in another man, one with cheap beer on his lips. It was so time-consuming to send out work, one poem here, and one there, through the mail, keeping track of where it went, and keeping a lookout for the SASE to bring it back, and seeing if it was in decent enough condition to be mailed back out again, and I remember for awhile I was printing on onion skin to save money (who knows what that is?), and digging up the two dollars or eight quarters to send the piece of onion skin back out, and waiting for the SASE again to return, and each time writing a letter of introduction, sometimes including letters of introduction from my professors who were consistently and kindly encouraging. I remember two of them, who seemed to think my writing was the bee’s knees, were flummoxed that my poems weren’t getting entry, but maybe the long narrative style went out with Wordsworth. And life became more about driving from 9-5 job to college job to relationship, to moving out, to moving over there, to trying again, to keep on trying, to being, frankly, trying.

Little by little, returned SASE by SASE, edited dream by edited dream, the writing dribbled to a stop. Drip, drip, dr—

It was so quiet in my head.

Well, in the poetry part of my head at least.

And a decade and a half ran through my fingers.

And then I started writing again. Not only poetry, and not the plays I wrote in my twenties, but fiction, and memoir, which is, I guess, what this is.

I found myself in a place where the place, the locale, was so small and local, it felt small enough that I dared to go to a reading again.

But over the intervening years something just awful seemed to have happened. When I showed up to read at the open mics, even when I went with friends, I could not make it through a single poem without devolving into tears. And maybe there’s a reason for this shocking behavior, and maybe there isn’t, but it seems as inevitable to me as hair going grey, and as unavoidable as the red dot from a sniper’s gun in one of those movies with snipers.

And yet, at the simple evening with Blot from the blue I felt encouraged. The readers were great, and seemed normal (for the most part… I mean, poets, right?), and kindly, and on Zoom my head is no bigger than a Cerignola olive, so I am going to say I felt safe. I think it would be quite okay to join in, and I asked him later, and Fin said yes, folks can join. And folks could mean me, or you.

So what the hell, let’s try it!

Find out about Blot here.

And use this email to express interest likeablotfromtheblue@gmail.com.

And if you show up, be a goooood listener first, and a good reader second.

I’m not much of a drinker these days, so if I show up it will probably be very sober, and there hasn’t been any nicotine in these lungs for a long spell. I will, however, be caffeinated. And that’s at least something. The poem I am thinking of reading has some sound effects in it, which is probably ill-advised. But after I read, and make whatever sort of a fool of myself I am destined to be, I can write a new poem: Pearce With Her Pants Fallen Down.

Nadja often finishes her posts with a writing prompt, so here is me, stealing that excellent idea:

Think of an “edit” you made in your own life, by choice or by force. How did it work out for you?

Have you ever read at an open mic? Write a flash memoir piece describing your experience.

Thanks for reading!

Dianne