On Friday afternoon, it snowed 3-4 inches. The kids were already home from school for a teacher in-service day. My husband happened to have the day off from work. There were hours of sledding and snowball fights broken up with hot chocolate and movies. We just so happened to have enough food in the house to get through the day. By Saturday afternoon, the snow had melted completely, making it possible for us to attend a party in our neighborhood.
It was the perfect storm.
Last weekend I participated in another 20-page critique of my work. I met with the same local author as last year, and I have found his editing/suggestions to be very helpful both times.
I’m getting better at these critiques. What I mean by this, is that it used to be that I would turn in pages to be critiqued without having any clue as to what parts were good or bad. Now I turn in the pages having a fairly good idea about what does and doesn’t need more work. Reading my own work critically has been a challenge for me in the past, and though I still have a long way to go, I think I’m incrementally improving — because of these critiques.
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Thursday night, I went to a skirt! Atlanta event. Seven of us got together over tacos. I could have stayed talking with these women all night.
What struck me about this evening, as well as the afternoon of my critique the previous weekend (which included a lunch with writers club members afterward), was how much time I spent talking with other people — without talking about my kids. (I mentioned them only in response to questions about what I did for a living).
For years, I found it difficult to make and maintain friendships with people who also didn’t have kids. Now, I can’t think of a more wonderful way to spend my time, than to be thoroughly engaged in conversations that have absolutely nothing to do with children.
I like this new era, where I can have a small corner of my life totally and completely for me.