Authors' Readings.

When I was little, in Poland in the 70s, I used to go to authors’ meetings all the time. The usual format was that of discussion – the kids would ask questions, the author would answer, provide some amusing anecdotes from her life, then we would ask her to sign our books or our autograph books and everybody would go home happy.

In Canada, as an adult, I fail to understand the purpose of the so called readings. I have gone to several in the past two months (International Festival of Authors in Toronto) and two Hamilton LiveLit evenings. And I remain puzzled. What is the purpose of a writer or poet standing on a small, lit stage reading his or her work to a small group of listeners? After all, the audience can read. Many of them, I would venture, prefer to read in the privacy of their own home and their own minds, undistracted by external world, busy creating their own visions. During readings, I drift off, I do not pay attention the same way that I do when I read, I fail to be moved.

Yes, there is the social element of it – getting together with fellow writers and readers. Reading is a solitary pursuit and it can become lonely. Discussing books read and liked or hated is valid. But those readings do not allow it! You sit in the audience, lost in the river of words that your mind has difficulty following because of the ambient noise, the diction of the author, or the loud conversation the persons next to you are having and you just wait for the time to pass until intermission, if there is one. Then you can talk a little with the author or with fellow listeners. But there is no scheduled time for the author to discuss her work, to engage the audience in give-and-take. At the IFoA there was no QnA period at all. Any interactions with the authors took place in the line-ups for book signing.

And yes, I count my reading last month among these!

What am I missing?