what comes after the thing that came before

Dangerous Writing Thursday, and right off the bat, Tom told us he had something to read. Tom Spanbauer reading to you there in that basement is like you've died and gone to heaven but something happens so good there in heaven that you just die and go to heaven.

It was a piece he was asked to submit to NPR's This American Experience. So amazing. After Tom reads there's always a little block of quiet. A bit of awe, but for me, it's also about feeling like my puny brain can't possibly speak up to make comment on his writing. Sometimes, like Thursday night, for me, it's also about wanting to sit in that story for just a little longer.

I used to be the queen of the rewrite in that workshop. I'd go for weeks bringing in the same pages. Now that I'm further along in the process with this novel, I tend to start each reading by saying, this is what comes after the thing that came before. It's gotten so that sometimes readers, when they want to announce that they're bringing in what follows whatever they read last week, say, "that thing Gigi says." Last night, someone (Charles?) decided that anytime someone said this is what comes after the thing that came before, everyone would drink, and so we did. Even Tom. I'm talking about water and iced tea and the like - we're not perfecting our writing skills over shots of tequilla. Still, after the second round, someone (Colin?) said, hey, there was Dangerous Writing The Musical, and now there's Dangerous Writing The Drinking Game.

Am I getting the people right? Charles? Colin? It's probably all the drinking.