neat, tidy, void of all the crap the family tries to put here.
Those of you that have been reading the blog for a while know that I can not function in clutter. Here is my desk today
OMG! It is a mess, even if you can not see the glass of wine hiding behind the computer. There is so much to do. The funny thing? I do not mind at all. I look to the right and see Youngest Son and I drawing comics about his upcoming dental appointment. I look left and up and see all the numbers I need to keep handy as I muddle through this whole Sciatica thing. I look left and see writing. Books for my research and a second chapter from a member of the Writer's Group. This is not clutter, this is work in progress. It is all good. I am not sure if I could live with this for more than 24 hours, but right now, if feels very productive. Who knew?
For the first part of the month I blogged everyday. The past few days have been silent. Not because there is nothing in my brain, but because there is so much. I am overflowing with energy. Too much for one post. I will back up a bit and try to keep it small.
First, and furthest past. Writer's Group. You may recall that I was practically nauseous at the prospect of attending this group. At the same time, I was trying to be strong and courageous. So I attended. I went into this meeting nervous about sitting down with real writers. As we went around the table for introductions the nervousness turned to terror. The friend that invited me to join this group is a well known published author. The members of her group are multi-published, VERY respected authors. I felt a little shaky. As the afternoon wore on the shakes calmed, and I was struck by how welcoming and genuine and just plain wonderful these women are. Wow. I left feeling confident and included and energized. A truly amazing afternoon.
Not only have I been working on my non-fiction piece, which is at the top of the pile, but I have also done a bit with the fiction. It flowed so naturally. I have heard interviews with writers where they talk about how things pour out and characters take shapes of their own. I did not believe it was true. It is true. The fiction is spilling onto the page and I am amazed at the events unfolding.
Our next Writer's Group meeting is fast approaching, and I need to get all my notes together and turn them into paragraphs, so that I have something to present at the next meeting. In the meantime there is an Inbolc party and I am invited. How cool is that? What will I plant? I am not sure if it is suppose to be a secret. Can you guess?