As I mentioned before, we are required to read a loud a piece of flash fiction inspired by a prompt from our text. Today is my first round and I'm terribly, terribly nervous. Sickeningly nervous. Reading out-loud has never been my strongest skill. I'm usually a bit braver--but the sudden onset of fear has left me slightly air-headed and unfocused.
Me: What's the worst that can happen?
My Head: It'll dawn on you in the middle of your reading that your fiction is crap. It's melodramatic crap.
Me: That seems unlikely. Every time you read it, you get that strange buzzing feeling. That's a good sign.
My Head: But there is going to be one moment of complete silence once I finish. No one wants to be the first person to speak.
Me: It's a lot to digest. They're just trying to form an opinion.
My Head: That one kid's going to be a douche.
Me: Yep.
My Head: They're going to judge me. They're going to see through me.
Me: You're probably freaking out because this one scene is based in your novel. And if they hate this, you'll over-generalize and apply it to the one piece of art your sunk your heart and soul into.
My Head: Jeez, I'm such a writer.
Me: You know it's never as bad as it seems. You'll look back on this and laugh at how freaked out you were. It's going to be fine.
My Head: You always know the right thing to say. But I still want to vomit.
Jeez, I need to get a grip.
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