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Asterisks | Nov 17 2002

I’m giving a big reading in, let’s see, three hours and twenty-three minutes. I just printed out the version of the story I’ll be reading. It is very slightly different from the one I’ve been practicing with. For example I removed the second that from the following sentence:

That is, yes, you could see a person’s back, but I don’t think that seeing a person’s back while he’s peeing means seeing him pee.

Similarly I added the that to this sentence:

I don’t believe my boss even realized that this other person was me.

After printing the new version, I inserted big asterisks at places that seem appropriate to pause and take a sip of water. I won’t necessarily pause at any of these places, but it seemed a good idea to give myself the option.

There are sixteen asterisks in thirty-five pages, or about one every two pages. Unfortunately there’s a stretch of eight pages in the middle, from page twelve to page twenty, devoid of asterisks. I circled the asterisk on page twelve to let myself know that this is my last chance to pause for long while.

After finishing with the asterisks I looked at how the text breaks between pages. I wanted to make sure that none of the breaks seem awkward. Only one appears to pose any difficulty:

Your so-
called filing system.

Fortunately I plan to read this paragraph, a very sad paragraph, slowly, so there should be plenty of time to turn the page without the “so-” hanging in the air.

Now there’s two hours and thirty-six minutes left until the reading. My mother called while I was writing the above. She can’t make the reading because my two-year-old nephew is having his birthday party today.

I just put the story in my bag. Actually I put two versions in there: the one I’ll be reading and the one I’ve been practicing with. The practice one is a backup in case “something” “happens.” While sliding it into my bag, I thought of the extra tennis rackets professional tennis players carry unto the court in bags shaped like stacks of tennis rackets. I decided I should have a bag shaped like a stack of stories, and then I realized I already do.

Fortunately I’m not nervous because as I always tell people, I don’t get nervous. Thus it’s merely a coincidence that I feel like I’m about to puke.