A while back, I read that Charlie Peacock and wife would be at a writing conference. He is a prolific wordsmith, troubadour and writes lyrics that lance wounds with truth.
I perused the web sight, then e-mailed a friend to see if she was thinking of going. Uncanny thing; she was looking at the web sight at the exact moment my e-mail came through. We talked on the phone for a little while, laughing at the timing coincidence.
She is a bona fide writer, with a manuscript, a critic group, mentoring and good habits. Real.
Unlike me; the mullet blog, spilling my guts, blood, heart and soul into badly written posts read mostly by my husband and a couple of loyal friends, until recently. The encouragement and 'being heard' part has been a sweet gift after a year of feeling very alone in cyberspace. I wrote to heal and remember. It worked. I have learned so much by doing it almost every day. Slow improvement with new skills.
My friend encouraged me to come to the writers conference. The reason I actually clicked back on the sight and registered after we talked was what she said; "Kathleen, come, come and be with your people."
My people? I realized how much I craved being with creative thinkers, all producing art. A new twitter friend asked if I have anything to pitch. I think that means do I have a manuscript? An idea?
The lingo and the writing world will be so unfamiliar and frightening. But, being hungry and thirsty trumps being scared. Desire wins over fear. Adventure wins over introverted shyness. Passion wins over timidity. Yes, paper covers rock. Connection cures loneliness.
I don't have anything to give or sell. I just want to sit and be with my people. Listen. Absorb. What if I'm not painfully aware of being an ugly duckling, there? Maybe I'll catch a glimpse of what and who I will be..... someday.
My people. Writers. Swans.
I really like swans.