I am feeling slightly bereft. There is a conference today - close by. I just can't afford it. I wish I were there. You know how it is. I know I can't attend every conference, but when they are so close, my mouth waters. I've had to use a towel... *g*
Next Saturday is another conference. I've signed up for it and, if you remember, my MS for the first 8 pages of 'Blue' will be critiqued. I'm oddly excited. Usually, I'm filled with trepidation at the thought of a 'professional' critique. But this will be in a familiar setting and my friends will be with me.
Honestly, the value of friends is not to be sneezed at. This really is about writing. My dearest friends don't read my stuff and I don't share anything about my writing with them. They don't understand. It's heart-breaking, at times, but I've learned to live with it. Their friendship is extremely valuable. So there is NO thought of breaking these friendships. I've learned to find writing friends. I've got the one incredible one whom I meet with once or twice a week. I should push out into the ethernet (and around my own territory) and try to find another.
'Course - I should be writing, too. I'm taking my little yellow pad out today (it's gonna be a hot one), find a restaurant that's not too busy, and work on chapter 36. It's so close to being done.
Life is worthwhile.