I was about to e-mail a friend of mine to point out that it’s been three weeks since she posted anything to her blog. I know what’s going on in her life because we’ve talked, but what she puts in her blog is different. Then I checked and realized that it’s been very nearly as long since I’ve written anything. So before I say anything to her, it behooves me to attend to my own behavior. In other words, I’ll acknowledge that pot and kettle are equally carbonized before she points it out to me.
So what has our intrepid reporter been doing? A few things. Last weekend we went to an s.f. convention, which had a writer’s workshop as part of its available activities. It was taught by professional writers whose work I very much like, and I decided that I had put enough effort and energy into my writing skills that I might actually get something out of it now. So I signed myself up, and away I went.
My only comment is that I want to do it again. Soon. Often. It was great. There’s an incredible rush in reading the single page you’ve managed to write between the session that ended at 8:00 pm one night and the one the next morning at 10:00 and having the instructor say “that’s a first draft?” Then one gets to hear the comments and suggestions of the others there, about half of whom are published authors and all of whom are creative, intelligent, articulate people. Hearing what they’ve written and getting both to comment on it and to ask them why they chose one method of presenting something over another left me with enough food for thought that I’m still chewing it over a week later. I enjoyed the con; I got to see some people I haven’t seen in a good while, and got to hear some wonderful music and actually share a quiet dinner with a single friend who joined my family. I picked up some marvelous CDs, too, which I have been blithely listening to. I went for a swim with my son, and talked jewelry making with one merchant and costuming with another. But the thing that stands out most for me is that writer’s workshop. I’ll be doing that again. Who knows; maybe I’ll even gather the nerve to submit something to be published? Stranger things have happened.