where the writers are
Train Leaving the Station for Writer’s Conference

I’m ready to come out of my writing cave. My office looks like the inside of a broom closet. I can’t find anything – not the last chapter I wrote, not the checkbook, not the scrap of paper I told my self I could not lose or I would go to jail. I need to get out into the sunshine for more than Vitamin D.

I need to commiserate with other writers and talk about our dysfunctional characters, our passion for writing and our devious strategies for luring publishers to our submissions.

I need a big dose of those workshops that last all night so I can listen to other writers read from their works-in-progress, marveling at their talent and their willingness to travel miles just to connect to other writers and agents/editors who can help them make their dreams a reality.

The San Diego Writers conference is a gem. Last year I attended some sparkling workshops where I learned how to increase dramatic tension (Phyllis Gebauer’s “Read and Critique”); a thoughtful workshop titled “How to Tell What You Really Want to Write”; a hilarious workshop led by two cops titled “Law and Disorder”; and a grab bag of workshops that made all of us think more deeply about the craft we love.

I will share my two favorite group leaders – Lynn Vannucci – who now edits my work like a finicky neurosurgeon and Marla Miller who conducts a top notch workshop on marketing.

I invite others to come along for the ride. You won’t regret it.

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Commiserating with another writer...about dysfunctional offices

Jane--
Thank you for writing, " I can’t find anything – not the last chapter I wrote, not the checkbook, not the scrap of paper I told my self I could not lose or I would go to jail." I love knowing I am not alone. Acutally I usually find what I am looking for--but it just takes me too long too often. And in the meantime, the office looks so bad!