I'm reading tonight as part of Sparks Night 3 at Brighton's coolest (but tiniest) venue Upstairs at Three and Ten. David Oprava is reading too. And others, although I'm not sure who.
The butterflies started fluttering about half an hour ago, which was a relief, because for previous readings they've started about 48 hours earlier. Now I can agonise about the reading instead of agonising about not worrying.
I'm reading a vaguely true piece called "Muriel the Goose", inspired by an entry in Charles Mackay's punchily titled Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds. Vaguely true. Not entirely so.