Summer in Seattle can put anyone's multi-tasking skills to the test. How do you choose among the parties, cafes, coffee houses, cookouts, movies, concerts, hikes, festivals, parks, bike routes, rollerblade spots, ferry rides, scenic flights, sailing/jetskiing/kayaking options, camping trips, swimming holes, river rafting excursions.... The choices can be maddening.

But on Tuesday, August 24, the Writergrrls reading at Queen Anne Books was a great choice indeed. This was the second such event. Karen Cronacher organized and emceed the evening, hosted by Tegan Tigani of Queen Anne Books.

I'm new to Writergrrls and the reading sounded like a painless way to do some networking at a great bookstore in good company. I'd share a few poems, listen, relax. Maybe even laugh. In the midst of a week of gusty rain more like November than August, where sun dresses and Tevas gave way to fleece and jeans, laughter and wordplay had become medical necessities.

Enter Queen Anne Books. Literally. What was to have been a patio party moved indoors, where Tegan, a bookseller and the store's events coordinator, quickly made us feel at home.

I was the first reader, sharing a series of somber poems from a collection in progress—a bit of an existentially heavy start to the proceedings. But, thank God, after my stint the open mic turned brilliant, funny, conspiratorial, and bittersweet. I wished I hadn't left my own irreverent prose at home. Next time I'll know better.

Every reader had us leaning into their words and images. When Litsa Dremousis shared her story Baking and Fucking, everyone who's ever baked cookies for someone they thought they loved who they thought might then love them back could completely relate. "God help me, I sifted."

Kim Holloway went next with her open mic debut, The Ghost in Mariah Carey's Ass. As in "I know you're not supposed to criticize things you haven't seen, but Lord knows the Christians do it all the time..." We howled.

Then Janna Silverstein kept things rolling with three pieces, Rain and Wolves, "Island Liquor at Starbucks" ("...a pirate complexion like heat and leather..."), and Reading Headlines. That last one began "The headline said 'Aliens prefer CNN.' This is poor journalism...." Rain? What rain? Weather-induced blues? What blues?

Writerrboy David Volk read "I can't fondle the reality," from The Tribe has Spoken, his new book of quotations from reality TV shows and the morals hidden within them. Even without his classic impression of Ozzy Osborne I would have been all ears.

Next up, Augustina Blair and her children's poem Admiral Shilly Shoals' Golden Boat. She immediately caught me up in the rhythm and rhyme of the saga, Ancient Mariner meets Dr. Seuss meets Jimmy Buffet, and held my delighted attention right to the end.

Texas transplant Arushi Sinha read pieces from her entertaining series Cowgirl moves to the Northwest, about where Seattle and Texas women part ways—especially Dallas women who don’t ever go out in public without their high-maintenance "sparkle." As in "If you think Dolly Parton wears exaggerated clothing, you ain't seen nothing. At least Dolly has a reason."

Karen Cronacher closed the evening with an excerpt from her work in progress, the story of annabelbaker@doodad.com. According to her grouchily brilliant heroine, "Marcel Proust's genius was his refusal to get out of bed," and yoga is a loathsome exercise "for the already thin and fit." More please.

For the 13 or so folks who came out it was a good time. Thanks to Karen for organizing, Tegan for hosting, and everyone for reading and listening. I was the one in the front row scribbling madly as you all spoke—my apologies for anything misquoted, mis-titled, or misconstrued.