Yesterday was a snow day. One of those glorious snow days that you pray for on a Sunday when the reality of a full week looms before you. I was returning home on the train after attending a conference for writers and illustrators when I heard the news. I shared an Amtrak four seater with three other young women who were congratulating themselves on a job well done after a victorious law school feat that landed them a trophy (which was on display) and a delicious looking chocolate cake which they cut, served, and ate right in front of me without offering me a morsel. I found this rude considering I could smell the desert and obviously would have politely declined had they thought to make the gesture. But they had the manners of pigeons and even after I laboriously inserted the ear plugs I conveniently acquired earlier in the day at one of my workshops titled, Unlocking the Power of your Unconscious Mind they failed to dampen their loud conversations. My hopes of getting some writing done were dashed, therefore the phone call telling me that school was canceled was music to my ears.
I was reading, Emily Climbs, of the, Emily of New Moon series by L. M. Montgomery. At first I was concerned that the young lasses were going to think I was reading a trashy romance novel due to the dated portrait of a starry eyed damsel on the cover, but as the enchanting and skillful writing of Montgomery swept me away, I proudly held the paperback before me. It was and is the perfect post conference read.
I learned some things this weekend at the conference. Brian Collier challenged us to make people feel something. Andrea Pinkney said to kill the committee that stands in the way of your writing. Sarah Pennypacker said the story is the boss. And then there was the lady next to me who wants personify her guinea pigs in her next manuscript. Go for it, my friend.
And so I am back at my kitchen table determined to do these things and hope that one day I will find a home for my stories.