(This is a recent posting from her own blog by Rose Hunter, reproduced here with permission. PS: We think Rose is too hard on herself – we like her straightforward reading style…)
That was an interesting thing, firstly to find a time here without heavy construction, trucks cars and dogs, TV or blasting music. Solution: 7 am Sunday morning.
So I did those. I am not a great reader of my own work, is my perception, although I like these recordings better than other recordings that I’ve done. I hate all my old recordings. Well I think I was trying too hard and being too fussy. (See previous posts re discussion of hating everything I’ve ever done, also.) I have a lot of stage fright, and turning on my laptop microphone by myself, in my pajamas, constitutes a stage in my mind. I’ve tried to read my poems in front of people once that I remember (unless I’ve blocked any other demoralising instances out) – that was last year, and it did not go well. There were about eight people there and I felt like I was dying of embarrassment. I vowed never to put myself (or anyone else) through that again. So that’s how that is.
My theory is that this goes back to having problems learning to read as a kid. Well, maybe not learning to read per se, but learning to read anything out loud. My mother home schooled me during that time and it got a bit ugly. I’m not blaming her, I’m just remembering how it felt. In any case I developed a phobia of reading out loud. At school I’d freeze up, turn beet red, mumble so hardly anyone could hear me, mix up all the words anyway, and think: “I am so stupid I am so stupid,” and feel like crying. Which I’d try to wait until later to do, so as not to create (more of) a spectacle. I took beta blockers to get through tutorial presentations at university. They didn’t help much. Anything like that has always been hell for me.
Maybe that’s strange for a poetry writer. Or maybe not; maybe it’s one of the reasons I write poetry. To claim my own voice, at least when I’m on my own, at my desk, writing, and reading them aloud to myself at that point, often. I think my poems as they are on the page are mostly strongly voiced, and much bolder than I am in life. When I read them for others, something different happens. I think. You know. It’s pretty hard to see your own work sometimes, at least for some of us, it’s kind of impossible.
Read the full blog post here.