The Big Presentation is done, rawther well I think, and even though I went on for far too long and couldn't answer all the questions posed, I always feel that the fact that there -are- questions posed is a sign of engagement. Also, faced with concerns about just who is thinking about author intentionality anyway these days, I feel I acquitted myself well as a writer. I'm no fan of interpreting a work with an author's bio. in my back pocket, but when you're a writer, it's hard to argue that the author doesn't matter. I'm trying to figure out whether the author-function is the same as the implied author. It's all knotty terminology.
Anyway. It's chilly and my feet are freezing and I was happy to wake up from a dream of a plane doing barrel-rolls over the Great Marvels of the Western World (Leaning Tower of Pisa, Acrpolis, etc.) and not have to worry about a presentation or reading 25 stories. I bathed and read 10 and practiced guitar and thought fond thoughts of visitors from out of state. Really, it's almost cheerful.
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