Deep breaths, Jody. You can do this. No fear. Amazing things occur if we just find 20 seconds of insane courage within ourselves. Are you seriously quoting from We Bought A Zoo to yourself? Yes. Yes, I am. Don’t judge me! I’m nervous. I’m not even a real writer yet. Magazine articles aren’t exactly prize-winning literature. Well, I guess they could be if submitted to the right journals. But you did not bring one of your published articles; you brought a poem. A po-em. Really? What if no one else presents poetry? You will undoubtedly be the laughing stock of this open mic night. Stop it! They’re not going to laugh at me. Yes, we live in a fairly cruel, cut-throat world but these are artists, creators, expressers of heart-felt notions and inner-most feelings. Even if they don’t like my work, they won’t laugh because writers are some of the only people left on the planet that have the ability to empathize. I mean really put themselves in other people’s shoes. They do it for a living, for goodness sake! They’ll do it for me. I hope. Well, if you are hell-bent on doing this, then get your ass out of the car and go in. Here I go, to kick some open mic butt! You are so naïve and lame.
Okay, off to a good start; found the right room. So far, so good. Backing out is still a possibility and bailing would be the wiser choice. I don’t want to be wise, I want to be a writer! There is truth in that statement. Being both would be impossible. Hush! That’s not what I meant. Small crowd. That’s good. They all look like nice people. Look-smook. Those “nice people” are about to tear your literary baby apart. Shhh. It’s starting. This is so exciting. Oh no, more people arrived. A packed house. My palms are sweaty. Sweaty palms are the least of your worries. That lady’s sci-fi story was kick ass. You seriously think you can compete with that? This isn’t a competition. Just a friendly group of writers sharing their work. Stop being so negative. I really liked the piece the last guy presented. Short, sweet and very sexy. I agree with you there, sister! Hottie! I was referring to his writing, not his…well, other bits. However, they weren’t bad either. My turn? Did she say my name? Okay, I can do this. Well, get up there then and read already. Just try not to puke on the front row. Puke? Where is the nearest bathroom, just in case? No. I can do this. Well then go, Princess Poet!
I did it! I did it! Na-na-na-na-na-na! Did you just use an immature, sing-song voice? I have so got to find someone else’s psyche to reside in. Ah. I am so glad I went. Met some amazing people, heard some incredible pieces, received applause and think I’ve found my new writing family. Don’t get all gushy and overconfident. Why not? This is where I am meant to be and what I want to be doing. Fine, be happy but you are never going to put me through this again. What are you talking about! I’m going to be here for every open mic they offer and I plan to read every time. And I loved meeting that couple too. You know the writer wife and her hubby, the beer maker. Definitely potential friend material. Plus, she’s farther down this rabbit hole than I am; sure she can give me some tips and tricks of the trade. What if she refuses? What if she lies to you, causing you to fail, because she actually is a mean, vindictive psycho who wants to kill off the competition? You’ve been indulging in way too much reality competition and crime drama TV lately. Pipe down and let me bask in the glow of the moment. I am a writer and now I’m no longer an open mic virgin. Cherry popped! So, let’s go celebrate with some of our fabulous new writer-friends at DarkHorse. Should we not leave on a high note? What if you get drunk and say something stupid? When have I ever been drunk? Good point. But you could still put your foot in your mouth sober. I could. I might. But I have a good feeling about this. I’m going for it. All in. Cherry popped? Did you actually utter that phrase? You are seriously lame, you silly, silly writer. Maybe so but I still love you, inner critic. Great. As long as I never grace the pages of your writing, I will remain content. Tee-hee-hee.
After successful, multi-decade careers in both the theater and fitness worlds, Jody T. Morse decided that she finally had enough fodder to launch her writing career. Life is stranger than fiction, right? Jody decided to kick off her new passion by becoming a contributing writer for a few magazines, penning mostly nonfiction articles about home décor, religious topics and bits on local arts & culture. Then, similar to the exuberant, no-holds barred fashion in which she came into the writing world, she became smitten by the fiction genre and began to channel her first YA novella, Under The Ivy Tree. (Due out in late 2016. In case you were wondering.) Happily writing from her bountiful balcony in the heart of the Sam Houston National Forest, Jody continues to flourish in her attempts at becoming a prolific “phrase florist”. Having no idea what the next twist in her career plot will be, she would like to encourage you to check out her website www.bountifulbalconybooks.com and stay tuned for future news. Thanks! Write on!