Getting Naked in Public

Last night, my regular writing group got together at the town's latest greasy spoon (they come and go like dollar stores around here) after a long summer off. Our group is comprised of three retired ladies, two young mothers, and me and another 30-something.

Every Monday night for the last five years, we read our chapters aloud and then do verbal critiques. Some of us want to change to a silently read, written critique, pass the chapter around the table format.

Okay, some of us is me. Through other channels, I have a "written critique" partner, so that's not why I'm pushing for the move.

Two summers ago we used to meet at a cafe with an outdoor patio. At the time, I was working on an adult Chick Lit story. And it was my turn to read...um...the scene that takes place at a fetish club.

See, the heroine is duped into taking her blind date to a nightspot where people clothed in body paint, live snakes, leather biker outfits, and my favorite, giant plush animal costumes abound. She's formulating a plan to leave without looking like a big dork.

Now, I wrote it to be funny, yes. Did I write it to read it out loud where other patrons of the cafe's patio could hear? Er, no.

Um, did I mention it was in first person? As in, "The giant panda's hard-on poked me in the back."

About half-way through my scene, a couple at the next table actually got up and moved away! I was too shocked to yell out, "Okay -- this is fiction people!"

Another time, a oldish couple seated around the corner from our group popped over to say they were *ahem* inspired after hearing a love scene from my friend's western romance. Eww.

All the more reason for doing a written critique, or for finding a less public place to read aloud. But in a town this small, there just aren't many places that would work. See, we get hungry reading, so they have to serve french fries and Diet Coke. And pie. Definitely pie.

Maybe we'll keep looking. Our current greasy spoon has only one big table smack dab in the center of the room. Talk about being in the town spotlight.

At least writing YA there's less a chance of getting embarrassed reading aloud. Although, maybe I could work in that fetish club scene if I....