My Reading on the 11th Floor
Recently I did an author reading from my latest book to a group of “senior citizens.” I’m not sure what the proper designation these days is for men and women in their 80’s and beyond. I’ll digress here for a second. If a person is elderly but not a citizen of the U.S., maybe a documented immigrant, would that person be called a Senior Immigrant? Just wondering.
Okay. Onward. The reading took place at the Brentmoor “Retirement Community” in University City. Top floor, the Penthouse. I was pleased with the turnout - ten men and women who were probably bored with Bingo and wanted a diversion. After an introduction and some background information on me, I began to read from my book.
This was not easy. Because my book is a compilation of miscellaneous pieces I’ve written over the past decades, a couple as old as 70 years ago, some as recent as this past year. As I say, it’s a compilation. I started off with an essay I thought would interest them. The title: “How My Obituary Changed My Life.” Catchy, you must admit. I’m not going to tell you what is in that essay. You’ll have to buy my book for that. ($20 in the mail or $22 on Amazon. No more plugs for my book here, promise.)
For the next 45 minutes I dazzled them with my words and ideas. At least I think they were dazzled. Hard to tell sometimes. Either they were dazzled or wished they had played Bingo. Next item I read was a short story, “The Great Chuck Berry Caper.” This is about someone stealing the bronze sculpture of Chuck that sits in Delmar Loop, across from Blueberry Hill. (Footnote: It was sculpted by a good friend, Harry Weber.) They enjoyed this caper, written in the style of a Sam Spade/Dashiell Hammett radio program. I could tell by their rapt attention that they really enjoyed this, especially when I used my terrific Sam Spade voice, sounding like Humphrey Bogart. I also do Howard Duff.
Why am I telling you all this? Because it gets to a stimulating and not-unexpected question someone asked in the discussion following the reading. A gentleman in the back, who was quite attentive during the reading…and as it turned out has read everything that Mark Twain wrote… Everything! He asked, “Where do you get your ideas?” Simple question that almost every writer is asked. Not an easy one to answer, in my opinion. The simplest answer I think is “by living, by being aware, by following a thought or idea that catches you.”
A side-note here: I read a lot of science-fiction when I was young. My favorite author was Ray Bradbury (“Martian Chronicles,” a book; “A Sound of Thunder,” short story). Here’s what he had to say about writers:
“Many people hear voices when no one is there. Some are called mad and are shut up in rooms where they stare at the wall all day. Others are called writers, and they pretty much do the same thing.”
I finally got around to a succinct answer at the reading. It’s two words. “What if…”
In my book, the story called “The Great Chuck Berry Caper.” What if…someone stole the sculpture?
The story called “Interpretation.” What if…a woman in her apartment is awaken in the middle of the night by a sound close by?
In my essay about my obituary, What if…I wanted to change my life and imagined what my obit would say?
In my essay “Me and My Ragtops,” What if…I wanted to tell people about all the convertibles I’ve owned and loved?
And finally, my very short story, “Charlie Chaplin’s Christmas Carol,” What if…on the Christmas Day that he died, he were visited, Charles Dickens style, by Buster Keaton, Roscoe Arbuckle, and Doug Fairbanks?
Of course there are other triggers for writers. I think they pretty much encompass the full range of the mind. Interests, passions, fears, memories, causes, histories, cultures…it’s a long list of entry points.
But I keep coming back to “What if…?”
For instance, “What if I wanted to share my recent author reading experience with followers on Facebook?”
That’s what I mean.