Before I go on, may I just say that I am SOOO sick of this stupid, pink blog and we really need to fix it. (Subtext: Colleen, you know that means you as we are all lame!)
This week the four of us head to Dallas to slurp mochas at the American Christian Fiction Writers' Conference. Colleen is doing the early-bird session and teaching way too many students, along with fellow Saint Deb Raney. God bless them!
Writers' conferences were way more fun before actual contracts. Before actual contracts, we stayed up all night, plotted our next books, planned for which editors to stalk and waited breathlessly for critiques to come back -- only to be disappointed, and clinging desperately to that one happy line the editor would write, so as not to crush us. Yep, those were the days.
I'm not a teacher, though I will be on a few panels and meeting for the advisory board meeting, I do not like to teach. It's not my gift and because I write chick lit, no one takes me seriously, anyway. But I will have great shoes!
Maybe it's not the contracts. . .Maybe we're just getting old and there aren't enough shots at Starbucks to keep us up all night. We'll keep you posted from the conference.
I'm getting ready to finish my deadline and just spent a fortune at Barnes & Noble for my upcoming work sabbatical! When do YOU get a chance to read? I generally keep a book in my car, one at the bathtub and one by my bed and do three at a time, but I haven't read barely anything since I've been in the new house -- well, except for People Magazine -- research you know.