I’m amazed I only came back with five new books. The last time Michael and I went to New Orleans for the Saints and Sinners Literary Festival, I descended upon the book table like a crack whore who’d just been handed a pipe. OK, maybe not really, but you get the idea. Being in the company of so many talented and kind and inspiring writers (so many that it would be impossible for me to list and link them here unless this became the world’s longest run-on sentence, and I’m no Faulkner) tends to make me want to devour all of their work to get an idea of how they do it.
Of course, writer Jess Wells had a valid point in a panel on social media when she said that you can update your Twitter feed and network using Facebook and Goodreads and Red Room, but none of that is actually writing. Which is why I’m going to write this post, upload it to Red Room and my blog, and then go to bed so I have time tomorrow morning to work on fleshing out a few key sections of the novel, and maybe finish the scene I’ve been working on in this story I’m writing about an angel.
I’m already looking forward to the next conference, but even more than that, I’m looking forward to having my novel see the light of day, to moving on to my second book (the first draft still waits to be revised, and I’ve already started writing down ideas for expanding it), and to all the other stories in my head that won’t write themselves.