That Halcyon Rush of Dopamine

This past Wednesday, I was invited to participate in the Riverbed Reading Series to celebrate the greatness that was Flo Magazine. As the world was just opening up after the doldrums of the Covid 19 shutdown, Flo was there to act as a stage for Ottawa arts and letters, tapping into what has always been rich soil in this city. I discovered them in one of my first post-lockdown forays under at tent in the Vanier Hub, which is a great community event put on by the Vanier Community Center in Central Ottawa. The two ladies at the table, one of which I believe was Senka Stankovic, the magazine's arts editor, were happy to talk with me, leaving me motivated to submit something to them. Before moving on, however, I saw they had potted plants for sale. Since I'd been thinking of adding some green to my apartment, I bought one. That plant now hangs by my dining room window, and is 15 feet long.

 

I ended up submitting short stories to issues 3 and 4, had them successfully accepted, and then read those stories at their launches at the wonderful Art House Cafe. Post to my involvement with the magazine, they went on to produce another three issues before they regrettably shuttered their run in 2025.

Flash forward to a year later and the invitation comes from Riverbed to read for a retrospective, celebratory event on behalf of Flo. I'd been wanting to be part of the series since its inception in 2020 (as scary as it was- a lot of good things came out of those pandemic years!) I'd always admired the lineups that they could impanel, and they did so well with promoting their events. They were always present on social media, at a time when such series were falling by the wayside with the impediment of lockdowns and restrictions.

When the show started, it was wonderful listening to the all the poetry, showcasing the diverse styles that the crew at Flo had curated (mine was the only short story). I was especially impressed by one Elaine Marilyse, whose reading was so energetic and funny, it put my nerves at ease, giving me the right mindset for when I was finally called to the stage. I always battled my nerves in the lead up to my spot, resorting to deep breaths, mindfulness exercises and a neat shot of Jamesons or two from the bar. But the real help was from closing my eyes and listening to the poetry. Elaine's animated reading put me right where I needed to be. When I finally stepped up to the light of the stage, I felt good. It was nice to see the crowd nod to the serious parts and to hear them laugh at the funny ones. And when it was over, there it was- that halcyon rush of dopamine, that sense of deep, satisfying accomplishment. They say there's nothing like a natural high, and it's the truth. 

"Let's go out," I said to Marie as we were gathering our coats when it all came to a close. "I don't want this night to end." So, we walked down the Nicholas Street to The Albion Room for a $40 plate of fries and a crispy pork belly before the Uber ride home. It was a great evening.

I always did love reading in public. It can be a terrifying experience in the leadup, but anticipation is always more stressful than the actual deed. It's when I can inhabit my persona as a writer the most, when it's public, when I'm reaching the audience, when the feedback is immediate. It really is a compression of the whole writing experience in a quick five minutes. The rewards are worth the work I out in for it.

As it was, the Riverbed reading was a culmination of developments with my writing. In January, I had two stories accepted- the first being 'Birdsongs of the Mesozoic' (Infocalypse) and the second being 'Gullyrunning' (Great Lakes Review). This, all while editing was finally done on my novel 'LefTtURN' and I was able to submit it to publishing houses all over Canada. We'll see what happens there. In the meantime, I continue to work on my historical novel 'Berend' to the point now where I have 10 out of 14 chapters sitting in first draft. It's coming together quickly!

I have no illusions of material success from my writing, but just the thrill of creating and promoting is enough for me now. My goal, of course, is publication of everything I've made, but the real pleasure comes from the process of creation. Being able to read in public is really the culmination of it all, when I can orally deliver it to an audience and feel the immediate feedback. It's the most public a writer can be. And I will always be thankful when the opportunity comes.