When I was invited to be the featured speaker at our library’s annual meeting, I froze. My gut clenched. My palms sweated in nervous anticipation.

I’m a seasoned speaker. But reading is different from pointing to Power Point charts or expounding about the virtues of one toner versus another. This time, I’d speak the words that rushed from my soul. Out loud. In front of strangers!

How does one prepare? Which judiciously chosen chapters would faithfully represent the series? Also, it would be nice to sell a few books.

Double Forté is the founding book of the series. However, Upstaged is fresh and new. Besides, it’s a theatrical mystery and I’d been asked to go “on stage!”

Which chapters would work? I needed a scene that would leave listeners breathless, but also showcase imagery and dialogue. How does one tantalize, without revealing too much? The search became a dance, a quest for balance.

I practiced on my writer friends at work. I pinned them down to their chairs and they listened. And listened. Some of the pieces were too difficult to read out of context. They needed explanation. Others, while revealing my beloved characters, seemed too schmaltzy. Sure, romance and deep conversations have their place, but the book is also peppered with spine-tingling action. How could I combine both in a fifteen minute session?

After several sessions, a friend suggested the “Halloween” scene. There’s humor, romance, playful dialogue, and vivid imagery. Best of all, it ends in a fierce fight scene.

I tried it, and it worked! I read this fifteen minute segment aloud over and over again. Reading aloud is entirely different than reading to oneself. When I read my work silently, the words flow. My mind integrates the sentences into whole thoughts. When reading aloud, the lips and tongue need to learn how to blanket the phrases with meaning and clarity. It also tightens the writing. In fact, I’ve taken to reading aloud as the final step in editing. The writing flows more naturally. It’s become an essential tool in my arsenal to purge the prose of excess-baggage.

I practiced. A lot. As I read, my daughter’s drama coach whispered in the back of my mind. I’d subconsciously absorbed dramatic techniques while watching her in the theater. It was deliciously apropos for Upstaged.

The big night arrived. I showed up early to discover an artistically designed “set.”

A comfortable wicker armchair sat center stage. Draped with a plush throw, it was flanked by a basket of books and a tall floor lamp. A vase of flowers sat on a small table that graced an Oriental rug.

The signing table was decorated for fall with pumpkins and amber candles. I set up my table. Then, I waited. I drank water, paced, and chatted with the early arrivals. Finally, it was time to go on.

The room lights were extinguished. The floor lamp was turned up. The set came to life.

I thanked my host for the introduction and began. After a folksy hello, I opened the book. I paused, preparing as an actor does before his monologue. I sat still, breathed, and waited a little longer. Finally I began, smoothing the words into a flowing, melodic stream. I changed voices for the characters. I let jealousy infuse my voice when Gus was smitten by the green monster. My voice cracked with emotion when Molly apologized to her beau. In the action scene, I leaned forward and spoke louder, faster. I shouted when my character shouted. I leaned back when the action slowed during the denouement.

I peered over the top of my glasses, especially when I read a humorous passage. Smiles danced in their eyes. They laughed in the right places! I’ll admit, there was one mom who fell asleep in the front row, but she ended up buying both books, so I wasn’t mortally wounded.

The reading was over. I’d held my audience in the palm of my hand - and I’d loved it. I released a satisfied sigh and answered questions for twenty minutes, then migrated to the table and signed a good number of books. Proceeds were donated to the library fund.

The night I’d feared ended in success. I surprised myself. Big time. And it was a blast.