I’ve been trying to find passages from The Wives of Marty Winters for my reading at Orcas. It’s harder than I thought it would be because I can’t seem to find more than three paragraphs in a row that aren’t sprinkled with curse words. Wow! I didn’t realize I cursed so much. No wonder Uncle Arthur said what he said about the language.
Depending on the audience, I guess that wouldn’t matter. George Carlin and Richard Pryor never hesitated to use that kind of language. But they’re dead, and I have this unexplainable dread of offending people. It comes from my upbringing as a Southern Gentleman.
Another problem with searching for a passage to read is that I keep wanted to rewrite as I read. I can never read things I’ve written without wanting to edit them. I start reading a section and say to myself, “Hey, that’s pretty good,” and then I’m suddenly brought to a halt by a sentence I wish I’d written differently and think, “Oh my god, people are going to read that and think I’m an idiot.”
Which brings up something that I probably shouldn’t say if I want to promote my reading, but the truth is I wish I could read from one of my other books. My earlier books are much better than this one. (And the newest one coming out this summer is by far my best ever.) Still, Marty is not half bad. Two or three people who read it said it made them cry, and at least one person said he laughed out loud at the farting hippie scene. Maybe I’ll read that part (no sound effects). Or maybe the scene with the acid trip in Nashville circa 1970 or the Pride festival in Olympia. Whatever scenes I choose to read, I’ll try my best to be entertaining.
Remember, the reading is at 7 p.m., June 10 at Orca Books in Olympia. I hope to see you there.
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