I walked away from the storytelling meeting I had a few weeks ago with a pile of edits, including cutting my piece in half for time purposes. Facing the amount of work I had to do was a little daunting and, and I procrastinated working on the piece. So last Monday, just two days away from the event, I was still in panic mode.
The guy who organizes the event had said that we could email him for help in the time leading up to the reading, and I decided to take advantage of the offer. The time constraint required me to cut an immense amount of the piece and after I had slashed through it with a red pen, reading it aloud felt clunky and the ending a little too after-school special. Realizing that I didn’t have time to nurse my pride, I emailed the organizer to get some tips.
I want to handle everything on my own. I don’t know if it’s pride or stubbornness or just plain stupidity, but the thought of asking for help is sometimes so painful it brings me to tears. I’m working to get over this idiocy, but it’s a struggle every time I find myself saying the seemingly pathetic word “help”.
Lucky for me the event’s organizer is a chill guy who viewed my plea for help as normal and not a sad cry for validity. He gave me some really helpful tips and ideas and, after working on it some more, I felt confident that I wasn’t going to walk on stage with a pile of crap in my hands. Check out two posts from now to see how the event went.