About those readings…

So we agree I have to practise my readings.  And we agree that I haven’t a clue what I’m doing most of the time.  I can read, write,  ride and play the piano…and after that, it all gets quite iffy.  If you see what I mean. 

(I definitely have the cadenzas nailed, it’s just the breathing and talking at the same time that I can’t quite manage.)

But now, I have learned that among my next appearances–reading this is–is a guest spot with The Last Tuesday Society in Mare Street, Hackney.  

Er, come again, you say. 

Yes, that’s right.  And this venue, The Little Shop of Horrors, rates apparently.  (So what are they doing with the likes of me…I know, I know!)   

Which brings us back to the earlier question.  What to read?  Only now the questions are–in addition to all the other ones–what have I got that’s decadent, or debauched, or downright sexy, or squeamfully disgusting…

And the answer?  I don’t have a bloomin’ clue.

This entry was posted in Writing.

2 comments on “About those readings…

  1. Greta Thain says:

    Horror – that scene in France. You know the one.
    Steamy – watercolours in the orchard.
    Sexy …. nah. Make ’em buy the book.

  2. BLloyd says:

    Have you got anything with chocoloate and apricots ? But seriously, if only Diiarts could arrange for you to be at the January V&A Masked Ball : looks pretty good company, Purcell, Dan Cruickshank etc – I mean, there’s the perfect opportunity for you to arrive on horseback,(in mask and costume of course), let off a blunderbuss loaded with excerpts from the book . . .

    Well, I think you are all very brave. Looks a scary place to be. The Photo Gallery alone would be enough to have me running a mile . . .and to that effect, part two of Iolanthe :

    Well, you get some repose in the form of a doze, with hot eye-balls and head ever aching.
    But your slumbering teems with such horrible dreams that you’d very much better be waking;

    For you dream you are riding to London, then striding about in shiny boots to Hackney –

    Wearing something akin to a large crinoline and a music hall style Widow Twankey–

    And you’re giving a read (though dressed in pink tweed) to oops! – the Last Tuesday Society –
    They’re a ravenous horde – and they all come on board and indulge in gross Impropriety.
    And feeling half-heated, you find yourself seated opposite a Bear called Paddington

    He’s a bit undersized, and you don’t feel surprised when he tells you he’s only eleven.

    Well, you’re facing a stare from this singular bear – who proceeds then to write out a cable

    And demands a refund, when your book is mentioned, saying ‘It’s not what it says on the label !’

    He points at the programme that states very clearly, three and sixpence for entrance fee
    And then he protests quite hotly, that for bears of his quality, it specifies free entry!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s