The Naked Reads surface

I slept until 6:30 this morning...I feel positively lazy.

Don't let E.J. fool you, Claire. He contacted me and asked the significance of your name...I'm the George Gordon, Lord Byron, jock around here...I even gave him the Allegra bit (that'll teach him to try and come off more literate than he really is).

The podcast is up! Check out this week's show, entitled The Naked Reads.

These are ten works that I recorded last fall at Studio A in Morgantown, under the watchful eye and ear of Alan MacDonald, whoe help was instrumental in convincing me that a podcast was viable. I'm calling these naked reads as they are not filtered, accompanied or altered in any form, you can even hear me turning the pages as I read.

No, I wasn't naked for the reads! I only read naked for very select audiences. Audiences of one. And in those circumstances, I usually do more than read.

Later, all. My circadian rhythms are going hob on me.