One of the strangest--and best--readings I've ever been to was the culminating ceremony of a Prescott College class called Writers in the Community. During the semester, advanced creative writing students had led workshops in the local community at various sites, and at the end, in celebration, the class planned a reading. And so, all in one room, there were about a half-dozen antsy, handsome, laughing and slapping 20-something guys who were in drug and alcohol re-hab, old folks from a care center creeping in wheel chairs and propped on walkers, scowling teenagers with their clothes ripped in interesting ways from a private rehabilitative high school (I kept thinking, sweet Jesus, keep those girls away from the rehab center guys), crumpled-up vets from the VA Hospital in their pins and ribbons, and a slew of fourth graders who had all brushed their hair for the occasion, their dreams of astronauting and ballerinaing still intact. I still remember one guy from the rehab center dressed in an ill-fitting baby blue polyester suit, running shoes, and terry cloth sweatbands around his head and wrists. He read a love story he'd written about his car.
Come see Rachel read on Thursday, April 8 at the Mercury Cafe in Denver Colorado at 7pm.