"Life in Continuous Present"- taking it out for a test drive

I recently bought my fist-ever brand new car, so I know a little more about test drives than I used to.

You slide into the driver's seat, surrounded by that new car smell (trying not to think about the fact that it arises mostly from the slough of toxic chemicals that go into making all that plastic), and start up the engine--which in my new hybrid is so silent that only the lights on the dash are assurance that the car is actually running. After checking unfamiliar mirrors to be sure that you aren't going to run over a salesman or any other customers in the dealership parking lot, you ease the wheel around, step on the gas and turn out onto the road. The same road you barely noticed on the way in now becomes a backdrop for a heightened awareness: road noises you never noticed before, the feel of tires gripping the road--and a little bit of panic when the car growing rapidly larger in your rear view mirror doesn't seem to slow as quickly as you think it should at a red light. Maybe it's the fact that the instrument panel is different or the presence of the salesperson in the back seat, but the everyday experience of driving is somehow heightened during a test drive.

Yesterday, I took my novel out for one.

I did a reading at my university's graduate student showcase. Choosing a section to read was hard. How can one 15 minute reading offer a sense of a 285 page story--especially one that has so many moving parts? But with a little help from some friends, I chose a piece, practiced reading it out loud--repeatedly--editing as I went to be sure I wouldn't trip over words and that it sounded "right."

Not really its first outing, but the first time I had to face a group of people I actually know with it.

Forgive me for mixing my metaphors here, but I felt a bit like a mom taking her daughter to school for the first time, hoping that the day goes well, that she shows the teacher how smart she is. Praying her classmates will like her and she'll make friends.

But this time, Mom doesn't get to drop her daughter at the classroom door with a pep talk and a kiss goodbye--she has to stay and watch every agonizing minute as her baby navigates a big scary world for the first time.

While I read, I couldn't really gauge reactions--but because of that heightened awareness I could feel every eye and ear. I looked up once or twice, noting all the people standing around me, listening intently--and felt a slight panic, wondering if my baby was really ready for this. Did they like her, or should I have kept her home a little while longer?

(I have to admit I'm always a little amazed that you can read aloud and be thinking of a million other things at the same time)

I think the reading went well. Although I was a little nervous, I only stumbled once (all that practice paid off, I guess). And when I looked up at the end and caught a grin and thumbs up from one of my faculty, I felt like my little one had made a friend...

(and "Mom" was pretty excited about that!)