As a newish writer, writing my whole life, but only sharing my words with the world in recent years, I find it very difficult to put myself “out there” for public criticism. A shrinking violet I am not, but as one of ten children in a chaotic Catholic household it was always easier to step back and let others, more vocal take the limelight. But that is slowly changing, and about time too.
In my fifties now, while still go on stage frightened, I am less interested in what others think or maybe just more selective of my audience. Surrounding myself with like-minded writers is a sort of armour, a comfort blanket for my sensitive soul.
I am a member of a number of writers groups, both online and in my locality so I have plenty of support and helpful critique available as well as a social network that speaks my language. Having said all that, public speaking is like a visit to the dentist, necessary for progression, but often avoided. Some years ago I was conned into competing in an open mic competition at the Scripts Festival in Birr, and to my shock and horror I won. Not because of any outstanding display of literary talent, but when pushed to perform I went postal and took the mick, a comedic performance of a silly ballad about my lifelong disdain for housework. In a room full of wonderfully talented poets from far and wide, I stole the show by making people laugh, and for that I am eternally apologetic. Neither dressed for the occasion nor prepared with any literary works of my own, it could have gone so wrong. Afterwards I imploded, elated yes but absolutely depleted.
It is an experience I will always remember with horror. I have recited a small number of times since but in much more favourable surroundings, to audiences of people predisposed to appreciate my words. Open mic nights give me nightmares and I am forever wary of attending such events now for fear of being volunteered. Having said all that, I am gearing up to perform for the public again soon. My Mullingar writers group Inklings have kindly informed me that I have been enlisted to take the mic, at two upcoming local literary events over the Summer, and to say that I’m terrified is an understatement. The first of these is our first ever Mullingar Literary Festival, the love child of my writers group Inklings, so I am honour bound to support my fellow members and their amazing feat in putting this festival together. Needless to say there will be therapy involved and much soul seeking mindfulness before the event, perhaps even some liquid courage, I am Irish Catholic after all.
But this time I will be taking the mic with preparation and purpose and more than a little pride in my fellow Inklings, and the wonderfully supportive people of Mullingar, who helped us make this ground-breaking celebration of local writing happen.
A number of us are published authors and poets crossing all genres, so there will be something of interest for everyone, young and old. If you would like to see us bare our souls on stage, hear some amazing best-selling authors and celebrities being interviewed, and listen to a few tunes by some amazing local musicians along the way, please come along to Mullingar from the 4th to 6th of July to help us celebrate our first ever Mullingar Literary Festival this Summer. You will be more than surprised by the show we have for you.
Centre Stage
Like a rabbit in the head lights
Knees shivering on the stage
I lift my chin, try not to focus
On the words upon my page
I cannot see their faces
But feel my friends far down below
Their support comes at in me in a wave
Telling me to get on with the show
Their words, You Got This!
Have been imprinted on my mind
As I straighten up and look around
Painting on my bravest smile
Seven minutes is all I have to speak
It might as well be an hour
But I take deep breaths and face the music
Begin reciting to the crowd
And once I begin, the words just flow
Passion wakens up inside
This is what I was meant to do
Writing has changed my life
Pretty soon my performance dazzles
I’m feeding off the crowd
Forgetting all my earlier fears
Enjoying the here and now
The end comes almost as a shock
I’ve done it, the crowds all roar
Shaking with joy and much relief
I feel my confidence soar
A little stronger, much more brave
I know I must do it all again
But for now I’m happy with the win
Won’t think about tomorrow until then
© Mary Egan Campbell
