The Way is the Story

Last night’s inaugural run of the Summer Reading Party was a success, enough so that I suspect there might have to be plans made for an Autumn Reading Party (or perhaps more realistically, a Winter one; these things take time.) For those of you who never heard me discuss the concept first-hand, the idea was simply to throw a wine and cheese tasting where each guest was required to bring something they would read aloud to the rest of the partygoers: poetry, prose, bus timetables, their own writing, someone else’s- whatever floated their boats. Predictably, a lot of people were either confused by this idea or turned off by it, but quite a few were also great guns for it, and after the usual invitee-to-actual-show quartering, we wound up with a small, intimate crowd that was quite delightful. I didn’t snap any pictures of them (too busy enjoying myself), but I did snap one of the board before the guests arrived:

(This was before I put out the cold elements that needed to stay cold- the basil and lemon-artichoke pestos, the apple slices soaked in orange juice, the white wines. And before the addition of the mustard and smoked oysters.)

Thanks in order to:

Church99, for her thoughtful gifts of Oregon Merlot and vintage 2000 port, and for her willingness to be my first-ever virtual guest, despite the technical difficulties that prevented us from pulling it off;

Cross, for staying long enough to share Act II of his play with us, and for allowing us to take parts and read it with him; (Can I trade for Lucifer next time?)

G., (who unless he objects, will from now on simply have to be known as Uriel,) for proving that math and literature don’t have to be enemies;

Hazmat, for contributing not only that very poignant British war poem, but the hilarious Christopher Moore religious parody he followed it up with (and for being patient enough to wait until we were done reading Cross’s play to ask for a drink!)

Yoko and Lipby, for hauling their butts all the way from freakin’ Sephireth, and for giving us the grand one-two of contemporary American poetry and Japanese short fiction (plus some mighty fine zucchini cookies);

The Empress, for backing me up with smoked oysters, purple napkins, Gevalia and Richard Matheson;

And my son Jack, for all of his help cleaning up and food-testing, and for his truly impassioned reading of Captain Underpants and the Preposterous Plight of the Purple Potty People.

Plus a special thank-you from me to all the partygoers, for your good fellowship, and for your patience with my own reading, the ending of which caught me as much by surprise as it did all of you. :)