So True recap

There must be a producer gene in our family. My ex is of course a lifelong successful producer of theatre. My kids are producers, in their own way, Sam the performer of warm experiences for his customers, Anna of massive parties and demonstrations, perfectly planned and executed. And I guess I too am a producer, now no longer, after many years, of the Christmas pageant at Riverdale Farm, but as part of the team for the CNFC conferences, and, especially, of So True.

Yesterday was definitely a high point in the five-year history of this event. Every single one of the eight stories we heard resonated and worked, both the writing and the reading, one powerful truth after another. We wept, we laughed. I always speak and read at the end and do not enjoy having to follow this stellar bunch, but I do my best - and yesterday, I ended by asking everyone in the room to shout "Happy Birthday Ken!" to my dear friend in the audience, who has missed only one So True since the beginning. We made a joyful noise.

The room was packed, standing room only - so much so that we might have to look for another space, though I don't want to, I love the Social Capital. Its only drawback is that it's not accessible for wheelchairs or anyone who can't climb a steep flight of stairs. But otherwise - east side, near the subway, warm and dark, a bar at one end and a stage at the other - I love it.

A few notes from today, from the readers to each other:

What a privilege to have this experience with you all today. You all are great writers and I am a more full person for having shared in the experience with you. 

Sincerely thank you for giving me the courage to share my story today, and be my true self. Thanks Beth for all you do! 

It was a MAGICAL day! I loved all of it, especially the supportive, fun atmosphere. I was so incredibly moved and humbled by your words, your delivery, your stories.

One writer told the crowd she gives nicknames to everyone who matters to her, and that her nickname for me is "The Master." LOL. Makes me feel like I need a twirly moustache and big biceps. But anyway, something to be proud of - and also to be relieved it's over for another six months. I once did this four times a year! Then three, and now two. That's plenty. 

Went across town for dinner on Saturday; Thomas's relatives are no longer living there and calm has returned, or at least, as much calm as is possible with these two high octane boychiks. 

Eli told me he was doing alphabet work with his teacher and he told her "G is for Glamma." Be still my beating heart. 

It's a grey gloomy day today but my heart is light; one more class on Thursday and my teaching responsibilities are over till January. Christmas looms, but first a few bits of travel. Time to sit at my desk. Time to focus on that neglected part of my life, the part that produces, not other people's words, but my own. It's time.