Ilking

I went to a local book store last night to hear local authors read their work. Although I never got the point of authors reading when clearly there is a big gulf between the structure of a written sentence and a spoken one. It's like when Ryanne reads me jokes out of her KIDS! Magazine. The jokes are clever, but they lose their punch when read aloud.
On the other hand, when Ryanne reads the story she wrote about her cat, Luke, her expressions and enthusiasm become the story. So I suppose there is no hard and fast rule.
But back to last night. Most of the authors brought poetry, which is often nicer to have performed, so that was good. One of the presenters loved the act of performing, which made us all enjoy it also. But I noticed two things.
First, being part of an ilk is never a compliment. I don't know why this is true since the word originated as a term for extended family, but I have never heard it used without a derogatory subtext. I only mention this because a poet, while introducing his work, mentioned a famous scientist and 'his ilk' of which I am one. I also noticed that I liked the the poem he read before calling me ilk, and was extremely critical of the post-ilk poems.
And the second thing was that writing is a lonely business. Being around other authors brings the joy back into it. I am looking forward to next month's meeting. Just to be around others of my ilk.
Nancy Sherer