The Reading on Friday Night

As I sit here at 3:26 in the morning, sipping from a can of Diet Coke, squinting at a massive amount of words, and unconsciously biting away at my fingernails, it is simply impossible to not feel the dejavu that I was doing this a few nights back, and what a night it was! I was extremely impressed by the spirit in the room, among the people. It seemed as a wave, a rise and fall throughout the night, into each other, into each Book and line and word. Campbell’s spectacular story-telling ability I think shook us all in each round, awakened us. I know that, when he was reading, that Serpent made me really nervous. I remember at first how it seemed to take so long for even one or two people to end their turns, and I’d steal a glance at my phone and go “Oh, it’s only 9 p.m.!” That wore off, I began to fall into that pushing, pulling rhythm more, and the books really began to take off. I’m also a night owl, so my wind comes around 11 p.m., and carries me through until 6 or so. I certainly know my sweet, jolly friends that I brought along for Book 5 enjoyed their small turn at the reading, do they know Milton as we do, I doubt it, but the spirit moved them in way enough. I also made sure they signed in blood that they had come and went (by blood, I mean pen to journal) so now their experience is as cemented as ours, as solidified as the rising sun and the chirping birds that woke up Campbell and gave the rest of us one more rush to the final Book, the final lines. Simply spectacular….