the reading, part III: exhaling...

as the last scene neared, and i knew the reading was ending, i started to feel my heartbeat quicken a little. partly because the reading itself was drawing to a close, partly because i feared i would have to say something at its conclusion, and partly because a surge of “hey! we did it!” began to rise within me. it was a mixture of relief, satisfaction, joy... and even a little sadness. this event had been the only thing on my mind for weeks and now it was almost over. i started to fidget in my seat a bit and the last few sentences seemed to stretch over several minutes (even though it was maybe 10 seconds). i was so much inside my own head that i completely forgot to actually look around to gauge people’s reactions as everything finished.

after our narrator said the words “the end,” we listeners applauded the actors, and the actors turned... and applauded me. i have no idea if my face flushed, but it sure felt like i went about 13 shades of red, and i honestly can’t remember what anyone looked like in those few moments (were they smiling? yawning? pointing at a piece of red pepper stuck between my front teeth?)... it was just as much a surreal blur as the start of the night. that might also be because i had a sudden nervous flash of “okay, just say thank you and wrap it up and DO NOT CRY...”, so I very quickly offered my sincere thanks and deflected attention to the food.

then, as everyone got up, a flock of “holy crap, this just happened...” butterflies fluttered around in my stomach one last time. and, even though i'd not been holding my breath at all (or, at least, i wasn't conscious of doing it if i had been), i felt like a long, languid exhalation came sighing out of me. metaphorically.

the final portion of the evening was just random chatting and goodbyes and snacking, as folks gathered their things, discussed the script and unwound. i had some really great feedback, from listener and actor alike, and was really touched at how thoughtful some of the analysis and commentary was. i’m not sure why i was surprised, but i guess i figured people might regard the whole night the same way they would, say, an insurance seminar – sitting and listening politely, but not really paying attention to what was being said.

but no. people did listen. and absorb. and feel. and, when it was done, some of them even wanted to share with me what they thought... which is always exciting and potentially scary. no one was scowling or frowning or sighing in a way that implied they’d just survived the most tedious night of their lives, though, so i wasn’t worried that i was about to be emotionally junk-punched by someone telling me how much they hated it. (not that i thought anyone would. i know people have manners and, as i said, everybody there was nice.) people asked me about characters and inspiration, talked about imagery and tone and relationships, picked out their favourite scenes and, much to my immense delight, got it.

when the reading began, and even beforehand in the days and weeks leading up to monday night, i felt very vulnerable. exposed. i was sharing my work, but also sharing my heart. there’s a lot of me in this particular screenplay and its characters and, to some extent, having a slew of people read it all at once, out loud, all together in a room, in front of me, felt a bit like laying the most delicate part of myself out on a platter for mass consumption. as i said before, i worried that i would be judged along with my words, and that there might be knowing nods or sideways glances or eyerolls at the story and, by default, at me. so discovering that people understood it, and liked it, and might even have been touched by it was a very special feeling.

speaking of feelings, i have many about the night.

sorting through them and trying to get them into some sort of cohesive form for the purposes of this blog has been challenging. but that’s part of the reason i’ve stretched the story of the reading over multiple chapters – to buy myself a little time, and to make sure that the most important part of the whole thing gets the attention it deserves. because, for me, something this significant holds more meaning than what a laundry list (no matter how lengthy) of what happened can convey. i’ve tried to sprinkle my emotions throughout the account of what went down, but there’s more i want to say. a wrap-up, as it were.

so, i’m not quite done yet. i’m still processing. i have a slew of thanks to give, and a bunch of closing thoughts left to share, and those will be next.

to be continued...