Westlake Debriefing: Part Two
More, regarding the hard to find but worth finding Westlake Library…continued from 17 November
â–¶ And a very nice facility it is, too–two years old, tucked away in the corner of the strip mall shopping center near Krogers. The tour of the library finds displays of local artistic works by local school artists and adult artisans. It was also pointed out to me that one section of book shelves were the old ones from Floyd’s Jesse Peterman library, donated when JP was upgraded–about two years ago. You’re very welcome!
â–¶ With the weather such as it was, I was happy for a “captive audience” in the Friends of the Library business meeting that placed some requirement on attendance in spite of fog-rain-wind. But then, there were some folks who attended without such obligation–maybe 30 in all, which is a huge audience for this part of the world–including local writers familiar to me, folks who had read Slow Road Home from previous visits to Franklin County, and some new reader-friends.
â–¶ There was some engine knock, hesitation, and mild loss of control in cornering, but overall, I suppose my part of the program pulled about a B minus. I didn’t set up the reading very well, didn’t discuss the backstory as fully as I wanted to. But then, some my unplanned digressions fit in with my intended course. Still, the misses loom larger in my mind than the hits in a day-after debriefing. You beat yourself up unnecessarily, no matter how well your external validation would encourage you to think of your performance as a success.
â–¶ I think I’ll do things differently for the Huffville (Saturday at 5 pm) event, to place more emphasis on the visual program, and to bring the younger folks in that audience into the dialogue that might come from the images–having to do with sense of place, obligation to be good stewards, and to be on a first-name basis with the creatures we share this planet with. I’ll post my prompts for you to edit and add to.
The travel difficulties on I-77 were worse than I understood while making my own slow, solitary way up the same thousand-foot climb in the fog. It was truly a nightmare for many in a 75-vehicle disaster. Imagine.