Good butterfly killer? No, no. I respect nature too much. I only want to quell the butterflies in my stomach.
I like to tell stories. But I tell them by way of the written word. I am not a thespian, and while I can chair a meeting and maintain a semblance of order, the thought of being "on" to entertain terrifies me.
BBBH and I are planning to attend a dinner meeting. The chair lady of the program committee asked BBBH to read a couple of her poems, and that is all good. But then she asked me to read a story from my blog. Hence terror.
Selecting a story is difficult, too, for they are all my children. Does a parent have a favorite child? Well, Tommy Smothers had the answer to that. I waffled between "A Mother's Day Tale," given the season of the year, and one of Uncle Jep's tales. I settled on one of the latter since the Mother's Day tale is a bit long, and as I said, I am no actor. Will do "Hallelujah Time on the Arkansas."
And. And I was asked to do a reading at a meeting of a different group on Saturday. Not one of my works, but another author. Even scarier; and only a day in between to get ready.