Written yesterday and slept on. I decided it’s still what I’m thinking.
I am not quite home, but it won’t be long. I am sitting in a Starbucks with white noise in my earbuds, gathering my thoughts after a very intense three days. I stopped in Columbus to have brunch with a couple of friends, and I was thinking I’d go straight home and go over my notes when I got there. My sanity caught up with me before I left town. Once I walk in that door, it’s all over, in the nicest possible way. My younger son is going to want to sit in my lap and pat my hair for an hour, and the older one is going to want to tell me a thousand things and ask if I remembered to buy him 0.7 mm lead for his mechanical pencil so he can take it to school tomorrow. (Maybe there’s still time.)
I was texting with my husband while both boys and the friend they brought home from church attended to the chickens — that’s a quote, and I didn’t ask — and explained my location. I’ve been pretty out of touch, so it was nice to communicate a little, though it will be nicer to see him in person. Our chat ended with this exchange.
He hasn’t read the Hunger Games, but I can’t help myself.
I’ve been at the Erma Bombeck writing workshop, and my brain is full. I met a lot of people, and took notes about them on their cards to try to remember all the details. This is likely futile, but I’m trying.
I left with an extra bag nearly full of books.
This was a wise decision, my to-be-read pile having shrunk lately to a stack just below my actual height. If I live long enough to read all the books I want to read, I will outlast Methuselah.
I attended seven workshop sessions, five keynote speeches, and … there was other stuff but I am so fried. Also I ate too much cheesecake and I’m not sorry.
I loved this introductory slide for one of the sessions I attended.
Because that’s funny, right? She was funny. Oh, she was hilarious. The first thing she said was, “I’m kidding. You’re totally to make yourself crazy.” Hahahahahahasob.
I heard a lot of things about Erma (the conference, not the person, though I suppose both are true) before I got there. I was told I would want to write all the things, that I would be massively energized, that I would want to set the world on fire when I left.
A little bit that. I do want to write all the things. But mostly, I am feeling thoughtful. In one side conversation, a woman said to me, “You need to decide what you want this to do for you.” She meant a specific workshop, but it applies more widely, I think. I haven’t had a lot of focus. (Other than trying to keep small humans from accidentally killing themselves. That requires a great deal of focus.)
I need to decide what I want this to do for me.
I don’t know. But I am very interested in the answer.
One thought on “What’s Next?”
I can’t wait to see what is next for you, as well. Love your writing. Love the boy–big and small. Love you!