On the Manifestations of Stage Fright
I gave my first public reading last night from World Leader Pretend at Powell's Books on Hawthorne Street. Like half the world's population, I have a strong fear of public speaking.
What is interesting to me about stage fright is how it manifests itself in different people in completely different ways. It also often doesn't have any noticable effect on performance, or at least to the outside observer, who can't get into the performer's head to know what they would have liked to have said, had they not been so flabbergasted.
In my case, my stage fright brings me to an effective mental paralysis, where first I think about what I want to say, and then, before I can bring it into words, I think about the fact that I haven't said anything yet, and that all these people are waiting to hear something from me. Then comes the paralysis: I know that I can't talk about the fact that I haven't said anything yet, and my brain gets fixated on it, and then I'm stuck--I just sort of stand there with that thought in my head and I can't let it go.
Fortunately, at a book reading, one has book material to read. So I do what musicians do: I say into the microphone something completely inane, like here's a song about my mother, and then I start reading. The reading tends to go well, and the people in the audience quickly forget about that awkward opening.
Afterwards, I get patted on the back, and told how good the reading went, while all I can think about was the frightful opening, and how badly I biffed the introduction to my book, where I was going to explain in brilliant detail why people should be interested in it.
What is interesting to me about stage fright is how it manifests itself in different people in completely different ways. It also often doesn't have any noticable effect on performance, or at least to the outside observer, who can't get into the performer's head to know what they would have liked to have said, had they not been so flabbergasted.
In my case, my stage fright brings me to an effective mental paralysis, where first I think about what I want to say, and then, before I can bring it into words, I think about the fact that I haven't said anything yet, and that all these people are waiting to hear something from me. Then comes the paralysis: I know that I can't talk about the fact that I haven't said anything yet, and my brain gets fixated on it, and then I'm stuck--I just sort of stand there with that thought in my head and I can't let it go.
Fortunately, at a book reading, one has book material to read. So I do what musicians do: I say into the microphone something completely inane, like here's a song about my mother, and then I start reading. The reading tends to go well, and the people in the audience quickly forget about that awkward opening.
Afterwards, I get patted on the back, and told how good the reading went, while all I can think about was the frightful opening, and how badly I biffed the introduction to my book, where I was going to explain in brilliant detail why people should be interested in it.
Labels: Tour Dates, World Leader Pretend
posted by bigdumbjim at 10:42
2 Comments:
"Flabbergasted" is an underused word. Thank you, on behalf of the Flabbergast Propagation Society, for using it.
The cool thing about a book reading is that even if you don't figure out how to "sell" it in the introduction, the reading pretty much sells it for you, esp. since you get to pick the material that speaks well (as opposed to a casual bookstore buyer opening to the first page and making his decision based on that and the back cover blurb).
Personally, having attended a variety of readings, I prefer the "less is more" introduction . . . the "why should you read this" stuff often comes out in the Q&A session, after the audience is already engaged. It's easier to engage the audience with the material, IMO, than it is with a promotional-type introduction. So even if it was unintentional on your part, I think your procedure was effective.
Play some Skynyrd!
Art
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