It's in My Head

         On Tuesday I met with my rather new writing critique group. You know, the one that meets in a private writing room at a bar/grill... The group that eats fried chicken and taco salads (me) and drinks buckets of beer (not me). The group that fascinates the bar regulars and makes them curious-er and 
curious-er (me wonders why).

         One of the writers shared a western short story they had written. As we talked about the strengths and weaknesses of the piece, they spoke of some tidbits about the major characters... tidbits that were not evident in the story.

It's in your head... but it's not down on paper. 

        It made me think of the thick skin we have to have as writers. When our writing is sucky, we have to be able to hear and listen to constructive criticism. When our writing friends' writing is sucky, we have to be brave enough to tell them.

       What was a time when you had to say something difficult (or had to listen to something difficult) as a writer?

        And if you're in the St. Louis/St. Charles area this evening, stop by the Spencer Road Library (427 Spencer Road). From 6-8, there will be 105 authors and illustrators in attendance. Blog friends of mine, like Donna Volkenannt, Pat Wahler, Robin Tidwell, Marcia Gaye and others will be there. It's a fun evening every year.  

        And Sioux-on-a-Stick will be there (if I can dig her up). She's not as wild as COAS, but she does pull the occasional prank.

Friends... and France

      On Thursday (11/19), there will 100 local authors gathering together at the Spencer Road library. This fun event will run from 6-8 in the evening, and there will even be refreshments. (Yum!)

      Some of my writing friends and acquaintances will be there. Donna Volkenannt. Pat Wahler. Doyle Suit. Robin Tidwell. Marcia Gaye. Sheree Nielsen.

      This is not my first year going, and even though I don't sell many books, it's the connections that I enjoy... the camaraderie we share... the encouragement that's thrown my way--that's why I keep coming back to this event. It's writing friends--all over the world--who ensure that I keep writing.

       Which makes me think of my friends and family in France. The France I know is far from Paris, far from any big city. And yet, still, I am saddened.

   
      This is the France I know...

My sister, daughter and granddaughter... hiking
surrounded by the Pyrenees

I've never been to Paris (except the airport). All I know of France is beach towns, tiny villages, and a few largish cities (Pau, Bordeaux and Toulouse).

However, I've always found France to be a country full of people who are passionate in their conversations and their appreciation of life. Their priorities aren't all askew. They protect their past as they continue to move forward.

To see their country attacked... It's reason for all of us to stop and hug and reach out and think.