I'm performing!

Remember a few weeks ago I said that I'd volunteered to read at what is normally a music event? Well, it happens this coming Sunday evening at Red Cafe in Mumbles.

And I'm trying to decide what to read. So I ask Chris and he suggests Roger McGough. This is:

a) not very encouraging to a writer;

b) not showing a lot of faith in my writing;

c) defeating the object? I'm not a performer; I'm a writer who reads.

I ask Husband and he says, 'What about Pam Ayres?'

What is it with these men?

A few weeks ago I was supposed to be going to a Creativity in Church event but couldn't at the last minute but Chris told me that the speaker had almost reprimanded musicians for not encouraging writers, actors, visual artists and dancers to take part in the worship.

We have a writers' group in Linden and over the years I've tried to encourage people in it to bring writing, if it's appropriate, along to the Sunday morning service to use during the meeting. And I've tried to lead by example.

But each time I have an inner battle and have to convince myself that it's not showing off. Which is very odd. I don't for a minute think the musicians are showing off when they play, sing, do solos or their own thing. It's perfectly normal and acceptable for them to use their talent or gift. So why is it any different for writers?

The answer is that it isn't. It just feels as if it is.

I've always said that I can be assured when I read my writing aloud because my confidence is in my writing not in me. So I should be looking forward to Sunday evening. But right now any faith I had in my writing has dropped to an abysmal low.

And my stomach is in a tight little knot. Not helped by the tension of the day in work. I need to punch something.