CSI for CSS

Until September of last year, my open-mic event would circulate bulletins using a manually-maintained Gmail list. This is not designed to send 50-plus messages at once and the system eventually refused to send certain ones. So it was time to set up a more modern self-service system, and here’s the entry about what happened at the time.

For GDPR compliance, we also needed to set up a basic website to allow members to join and leave. Our Web server would then deal with the request automatically. I found an open-source template online and stripped it down to suit our needs. Everything else on the website was initially a secondary concern, but we’ve slowly expanded the content to include event times, standards of behaviour and the latest bulletin.

While running a link check, I spotted six broken ones. They weren’t important, merely referring to fonts that weren’t in use on the site, but I wanted to understand the errors and fix them.

It transpired that our site was referencing two separate Cascading Style Sheet (CSS) documents. These are used to define the visual appearance and layout of a Web page, including the colours, fonts, spacing and positioning of elements. Worse, the two documents contained some contradictory information, so the functionality of the website could change or break depending on the order in which the instructions were executed.

Combined with a little sloppy HTML syntax, the browser was doing some heavy lifting to correct the errors silently behind the scenes. Remembering the experience of the distribution list, I didn’t want this to collapse as well.

I used to be a lot more interested in computing than I am now, so much of my coding knowledge has left me. But I spent the weekend combining the two sheets and figuring out what could and should be removed. I relied heavily on user questions from Stack Overflow, the output from code validation websites and even ChatGPT to write snippets of code or check what I’d written.

Ultimately, a total of 7,800 lines of CSS code were reduced to less than 160 lines by Sunday night. The resulting Hotchpotch website is still incredibly static and basic, but it fits the bill precisely.

I then had the impetus to revamp an existing website for a small writing class I’ve been running. This time, I used authoring software for the general look and feel, then made small revisions to the code by hand with my newfound knowledge. The Placing Your Mark website is much more dynamic than its Hotchpotch cousin, although I might one day harmonise their respective designs.

Meanwhile, with the bank holiday weekend over, I’m excited to get back to writing words and sentences rather than syntax and semicolons.

Yet Another Class

Regular readers of this blog might know I already run two writing events: a weekly group for National Novel Writing Month and a monthly open-mic. I also take part in a monthly poetry circle. Each of these events is different in character from the others, but they’re all free to join and comprise at least a dozen members.

Some time ago, I took the decision to make a trial run of yet another class, and this would again be different from my current classes, not least because there would be a charge.

The format was adapted from classes I attended between 2011 and 2015, which were essentially improv but for writers rather than actors. These were run by a former teacher who would give us between five and ten minutes to write a passage inspired by a list of five words, a line from a novel, or a photograph found in a thrift shop. After each passage, we would then read our passages to each other for supportive mutual feedback.

In my class, I set a limit of four members to allow optimum time for writing versus feedback. It’s been something of a catch-22: it’s been difficult to attract members because it’s untested, but it’s untested because it’s hard to attract interest.

Nonetheless, I found two people willing to give it a go. Their initial feedback has been positive and I’ve already identified areas where the format could be tweaked. At the end of the first four-week block, I’ll make a decision about whether to run them on a more permanent basis.

Cataloguing the Uncatalogued

For the last eight years or so, I’ve run my monthly open-mic singlehandedly. However, our collaborations during 2022 showed me the group was becoming unwieldy to manage alone.

So at the next event tomorrow, we’ll introduce our first co-host. Having already briefed her about the help we need, such as welcoming readers while I set up the equipment, I started to compose a short document to explain the role in more detail.

This short document quickly expanded to a long one, becoming a chronological checklist of the entire evening from start to finish. Much of the content is based upon years of personal experience and best practice. But almost none of it had been formally recorded before because there was never a pressing need.

I’ll give the document to my co-host tonight or tomorrow, although it’s still the first version and could do with some refining. Once it’s more robust, it’ll serve as a template in case she or anyone else needs to cover for me in the future.

Going Through Stages

After a conversation with a member of my poetry group last week, I remembered that not everyone is as comfortable speaking on stage as I am. I then discovered it’s been four years since I last covered the topic on this blog.

As such, let’s update it. It’s wise to remember this should be treated as a subjective guide, not a textbook.

Talk with the organisers about what’s required

If the organisers haven’t already told you the plan, it’s worth asking for the following information:

  • How long you’ll be asked to speak for
  • What type of content is required
  • Whether you’re expected to read from paper or perform from memory
  • Whether you need to introduce yourself
  • Where you should wait before you’re called up
  • Whether any fee is payable

Each event has its own particular character. Some events like performers to fill a 15-minute slot. Other events allow performers to go up twice. Slams sometimes mark down poets for reading words from a page.

If it’s an unfamiliar venue, be sure to obtain the exact address and check how to access the building. Don’t forget to arrive in plenty of time.

Think about your own structure

The organisers will take care of the overall structure and running order, but it’s wise to plan your own slot so you don’t miss a step. A typical note-to-self might read:

  • Give name, say you’re reading from short story collection The Pie Seller
  • Say you’re happy to sign copies
  • Briefly mention editor at Law Hill Books
  • Tell obesity clinic anecdote
  • Read out And an Onion One Too (page 24)
  • Thank Tracey Sanders for organising
  • Read out The Crust of the Matter (page 12)

It’s a good idea to place the thanks as second-last, not as the final item. That means the audience are more likely to go away with the ending of your work in their head.

Briefly explain if you need to, but don’t apologise

Some pieces do require an explanation; perhaps a work is unfinished, is an extract from a longer work, or was written under certain circumstances. But keep it brief and don’t explain anything that the audience will take or infer from the piece.

If you feel you can’t read a particular piece without apologising or telling a long story, either take it out of your set or work on it until only a short introduction is necessary.

Read out loud and time your words

The best way to identify weak parts in your set is to read it aloud – and that’s the last thing you want to happen in public. So find a room on your own and read it out where nobody can hear you. Are there any long sentences that need to be broken up? Are there words that are difficult to say clearly?

When reading from a book or from sheets of paper, it’s a good idea to turn up the corner slightly or to stick a post-it note as a lever. When using an e-reader or tablet computer, practice tapping the correct area of the screen to turn the page; there might also be a delay on some devices.

Don’t forget to use a stopwatch to make sure all your words fit within the agreed timeslot.

Make sure everyone can hear you

In my experience, smaller readings tend not to use a microphone, so you might need to project. Avoid tilting your head down to read the piece; instead, hold your manuscript higher and off to one side so it doesn’t muffle your words, or look down only with your eyes. Always speak more slowly than you would in normal conversation and don’t be afraid to pause.

If there’s a working microphone, use it. If possible, test it out beforehand. A big annoyance for an audience is a sound level that increases and decreases at random. So whether the microphone is handheld or on a stand, keep it at the same distance from your mouth as you speak. Most are designed to pick up sound from the top, although a few have the pick-up on the side.

Avoid alcohol before the gig

I fully understand why folks need Dutch courage before going on stage. From years of going to the Edinburgh Fringe, though, I’ve found a drunk performer rarely makes a good impression. My rule is not to take alcohol before speaking, only coffee or a soft drink.

Decide where in the room to look

I know a few poets who deliberately look at individual audience members. However, it’s  unnerving to make eye contact for most people. I have two alternative methds:

The first is to look between two audience members, so the person on the right assumes I’m looking at the one on the left, and vice versa. The second is to look above the heads of the back row; this has the added advantage of giving you a better posture.

Keep going through distractions and cock-ups

Perhaps the microphone fails, perhaps you forget the words, perhaps a hundred other unpredictable problems crop up. Keep going as best as you can. It might mean cutting a piece short or shouting instead of reading, but the audience are there to see you perform.

A common issue at spoken-word nights is the audience member who keeps talking. Unlike a music gig, you don’t have the advantage of drowning them out with your instruments. A good host will take charge of silencing any chat, but if they don’t, either carry on as you were or – if it’s too distracting – politely ask them to refrain.

Signal when you’ve finished

At the end of a piece, the audience sometimes doesn’t know whether you’re finished or simply pausing for dramatic effect. A good clear signal is to lower your manuscript or to step backwards slightly, or even say ‘Thank you.’ At that point, people should take the hint and applaud.

Listen to the other performers

Unless you’ve arranged otherwise, it’s considered a courtesy to stay and listen to the other performers before and after your set. If you really must disappear straight after the gig, tell the organiser or mention it on stage.

Do it again

It’s a cliché, but the more you stand up and speak in public, the more techniques you’ll learn, like which techniques or always or never provoke a reaction. There are no guarantees that your poetry performances will always be successful, but by following the suggestions above, you can maximise those chances.

Presenting to Creative Folks

Although these entries are posted in a regular fashion, they’re sometimes written days in advance, giving me time to iron out any flaws. This is not one of these entries. This is about an event from this morning.

I’m part of a local group called Amps, self-described as a community of people who make and cultivate creativity in Dundee. Every Tuesday morning, the members gather for a lighthearted online event that includes discussion questions for everyone, and one of the members typically gives a talk about their work.

It was my turn today, and I talked about the challenges of running both a poetry open-mic and a novel-writing group. I first considered the many differences between the two groups, then ended by discussing three key rules I follow when running both of them.

I’ve been working on this topic for a long time. In 2020, I was supposed to make a Pecha Kucha presentation that never went ahead, but I’d planned what I wanted to talk about. All I really needed to do was bring it up to date.

Regarding Amps as an organisation, I’d heard about them a few years back, but I didn’t join until about this time last year. I didn’t initially imagine I’d be welcome as I don’t rely on the arts to make a living, but the organisers keep a broad church.

After the presentation, there is always a short question-and-answer session, in which I was able to expand upon some of the points I made and put some preconceptions to bed. The weirdest question was whether I would consider using artificial intelligence in my writing.

I’m not always at these meetings because of work commitments, but I’ll endeavour to go whenever I’m available.

Making an Event Flexible Without Losing the Audience

On Saturday just gone, my open-mic event Hotchpotch collaborated with I Am Loud Productions from Edinburgh.

After an open-mike segment, the three headline acts would give us their best work. With close co-operation from the venue, it was a marvellous night, and showcased the best of both organisations.

However, I did admit to I Am Loud that I was initially in two minds about whether to allow them to take over our event.

To understand my thinking, let me take you back to February this year. I received a message from a reasonably high-profile poet from the other coast of Scotland. She was putting together a book tour and wanted to include our event as place to promote it.

I was flattered she’d heard about us and thought about us, as I’d been to see her show in 2019. I realised immediately, however, this tour would not be a good fit for us. Our open-mic shows are about audience participation, with no one person featured more highly than another.

We exchanged a few e-mails and I proposed a solution of starting the book launch at 6pm, then beginning the open-mic at 7pm as usual. I would also have been prepared to host a special event separately from the open-mic. Our talks ultimately came to a halt, but I did recommend she approach another group I know, and I hear she’s going to be a headliner there soon.

So when I Am Loud wanted to collaborate, I was convinced to give the green light when I heard the open-mic element would be part of the show. This would be in a much-reduced form, with just eight slots of three minutes apiece, compared to unlimited slots of seven minutes.

In practice, though, there was a smaller audience than usual, perhaps because the regular crowd are accustomed to Wednesday events rather than those on Saturday. As such, only five of the eight slots were taken, so nobody was left disappointed.

Refreshing the Roster of Raconteurs

I have a penpal in Wales who wrote to me last week. We’ve been in touch for nearly two decades online, and this has gradually moved into long paper letters. If you’d asked me last week what my blog was going to be about, that would have been the topic.

But I’ll come back to that next week because I finally carried out an overdue task on Sunday.

Regular readers will know I run an open-mike night called Hotchpotch. When I took over in 2015, I inherited the passwords for the Twitter account, the Facebook page and the e-mail bulletin list. In the case of the first two, users can self-manage their subscriptions, but the bulletins require manual intervention.

Additionally, some people on the list had moved away or not come along for years, but had never requested to unsubscribe. And recently, the server that hosts our domain name had been failing to deliver to otherwise valid addresses, which then needed to be re-sent in their own separate list.

On Sunday, I wrote to everyone on the list individually, explaining we were transitioning to an Announcements list on Dreamhost. This requires people to click a link to opt-in, and it’s much easier to remove members.

At the time of writing, the new list has 34 subscribers, which is less than a quarter of the old list. However, I’m satisfied we’re now sending to a shorter list of opted-in people than 130+ who don’t necessarily want to hear from us.

What’s Occurring in September

Eschewing my usual ‘columnist’ format, this week’s entry takes the format of a bulleted list all about this month’s upcoming projects.

  • The following week, on Wednesday 21 September, I’m leading a gameshow called The Literal Flow Test. This is part of the Dundee Fringe, and takes place at Dock Street Studios. You can book tickets now, but there is no direct URL, so go to the official website and look down the page.
  • The following day, Hotchpotch has been granted a stall at Dundee University Freshers’ Fair. That’s on Thursday 22 September from 11am to 4pm where we’ll be introducing ourselves to the new crop of students.

Preserving Audience Expectations

About three weeks ago, I received an e-mail from a poet who’s planning a book tour and was looking to promote it later this year, either in an existing event or as a one-off collaboration.

I was rather excited by the idea. This poet is quite well-known on the Scottish scene and to have her along at Hotchpotch would be a terrific boon.

On the other hand, our open-mike night is not set up to place the focus on one person. Instead, everyone who comes along on the night is given equal time and prominence. Furthermore, we’ve already arranged to vary the format in September and November this year to welcome an established company. The question was whether a third time might have been too much.

As such, I made the suggestion of having the book launch before the open-mike. I also urged the poet to contact another organiser whose events do have a headline act.

I then received a message from the other organiser at the weekend saying this person was ‘quite a scoop’ for his event. Although the door is still open for a Hotchpotch tie-in, I still feel it was a good call to preserve the open-mike element and therefore the expectations of the audience.

Wherever this poet chooses to launch, I look forward to seeing it happen.

A Surprisingly Unpopular Event

I received a message from someone local who’s currently working on a community-focused project that launches this weekend. It’s aimed at encouraging people to think more about the clothes they have, the memories they represent, and imagining what might happen when these items are passed on.

One of the proposed events was to bring in local poets to respond to the above themes, but as the organiser didn’t know many poets, she wanted to tap into my connections. I was happy to help out, and I spoke to two of my poetry groups.

After a week, I was surprised to receive virtually no response to my messages, especially as the clothing event was intended to take place in person. As an organiser, I’ve found that people react to staged events more positively, as the public has become weary of so many virtual ones.

I explained this to the organiser but added that I would still like to contribute. My starting point was a T-shirt from 1996 that I still own, and the resulting piece became an exploration of when I met my first girlfriend at age 12, and how my approach to relationships has changed between then and now.

I don’t know whether I’ll actually be able to attend, as something more pressing has arisen, but I wish her all the best with the project.