Another Group of Writers

Tonight I met with a different group of writers. Their meetings are different than the group I’ve been with almost a year now. We did two writing exercises and have homework for next time. They also meet more frequently, a couple of times a month. You would think with my insane workload that exercises, homework and more meetings would have me running for the hills, but quite the contrary. I’m revved up! This will be good for me and my writing I think. And I don’t think it’ll take that much time. They are busy people too. Staying with the original group too, of course, absolutely. The question was never of jumping ship, but rather of fitting more than one ship in the harbour. You know how you just meet certain people and there’s an instant understanding that they are good people, that they are important in your life. It happens. It happens to me more frequently all the time. More so since the move. I’ve met some good people tonight. I want to keep them around.

Mood: excited
Drinking: the green apple stuff, very cold, and not at all alcoholic
Listening To: the washer next door
Hair: fluffy, it’s been a month since the cut and it’s still not as long as what I originally intended with the cut . . . could be fall til i get there

2 thoughts on “Another Group of Writers

Add yours

  1. Meeting good people and knowing they’re important in your life – now that’s syncronicity. Good for you for noticing it. That’s what The Celestine Prophecy was about, but that was another book you couldn’t read… πŸ™‚ maybe now is the right time?


  2. I’ve been meeting more and more people like this, these last few years. I’m also getting way better at identifying the ones I don’t need to be anywhere near. But what really kicks ass is that I no longer feel the need to let everyone in, just so I won’t have to be alone, just so they’ll like me.

    Yeah, Celestine Prophecy is never going to happen. There’s bad writing like DaVinci and then there’s really bad writing like Debbie Macomber and then there’s writing so bad it could only have been self-published πŸ˜‰


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