Last week I learned that my mid week prerecorded Radio Live interview, would go to air at 12:50 on Sunday. Instead of excitement, this news filled me with dread; I had spent days post-interview berating myself for a variety of errors and blunders I knew I had made. These included talking over Ryan my interviewer, correcting mistakes he made during the recording, but worst of all ‘gabbling’- my mother’s term to describe the speed of my talking, especially when I am nervous. I convinced myself there was no way I was ever going to comfortably sit listening to this recording, especially knowing friends would listen to it.
My husband, Kotz, however, had other ideas. “Oh honey, I’m sure it will be great!” “I think you are exaggerating the problems!” and so on. He was up in the Kahurangi National Park with our Pilot Station visitors while I recorded that interview, so how did he know?
My husband, Kotz, however, had other ideas. “Oh honey, I’m sure it will be great!” “I think you are exaggerating the problems!” and so on. He was up in the Kahurangi National Park with our Pilot Station visitors while I recorded that interview, so how did he know?
Sunday dawned and Kotz unplugged his precious multi band radio from his workshop, carried it up onto our covered deck and set it up in a grandstand position on the centre table, carefully placing a semi circle of chairs to face it. The setup reminded me of my childhood days, waiting by the large radio set with my sister for our favourite program Life with Dexter to begin.
Sunday dawned and Kotz unplugged his precious multi band radio from his workshop, carried it up onto our covered deck and set it up in a grandstand position on the centre table, carefully placing a semi circle of chairs to face it. The setup reminded me of my childhood days, waiting by the large radio set with my sister for our favourite program Life with Dexter to begin.
Kotz then made drinks and called all to the deck to await the promised hour. Everyone seemed to forget any interesting alternate activities for a beautiful sunny Nelson day, at least until the darned thing was over. Kotz checked and double-checked the radio frequency that I had dutifully copied down, then as our little group sat there, I held my breath awaiting my public humiliation.
But 12:50 came, then 12:50 went and still the announcer gave no indication of any forthcoming author interview. My relief at this unexpected development inspired some of my excuses: “Oh, it must’ve needed too much editing,” “They probably decided I was gabbling too much!”
I leapt from my seat leaving the others sitting there still staring at the radio, in the hopes of managing to conjure the elusive interview from the machine. I tried hard to match their consternation but was actually jumping for internal joy.
But 12:50 came, then 12:50 went and still the announcer gave no indication of any forthcoming author interview. My relief at this unexpected development inspired some of my excuses: “Oh, it must’ve needed too much editing,” “They probably decided I was gabbling too much!”
I leapt from my seat leaving the others sitting there still staring at the radio, in the hopes of managing to conjure the elusive interview from the machine. I tried hard to match their consternation but was actually jumping for internal joy.
It was not until I checked my inbox about 30 minutes later, that I discovered it was filled with messages like “Congratulations, great interview!” “Loved it!’ “Brilliant!” and so on.
It appeared that the interview had been aired at the correct time, and that my fears of ruining it were unfounded.
There are further interviews scheduled, and my husband has decided to search these out himself, believing I deliberately misled him with the frequency of the radio program. I can honestly tell you gentle readers, I definitely did not.
It appeared that the interview had been aired at the correct time, and that my fears of ruining it were unfounded.
There are further interviews scheduled, and my husband has decided to search these out himself, believing I deliberately misled him with the frequency of the radio program. I can honestly tell you gentle readers, I definitely did not.
Link to the RadioLive interview:
http://www.radiolive.co.nz/Emma-Stevens-on-finding-love-in-the-Alaskan-wilderness/tabid/506/articleID/138888/Default.aspx
http://www.radiolive.co.nz/Emma-Stevens-on-finding-love-in-the-Alaskan-wilderness/tabid/506/articleID/138888/Default.aspx
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