If I were as gifted with oil pastels as my four year old son, I would have drawn this picture of myself this morning when I realized I have the entire day to myself and a few hundred other people. Today, I will be shoulder to shoulder with people who love books and writers. Published writers.
On this day, I will bask in the crisp fall sun, sans children, unless you count the one in utero, and no hubs. The hubs has elected to spend this beautiful day shampooing carpets. He may need to find a hobby.
With grace, the in-laws have taken our little artist for the weekend so I can have the time for my creative endeavors. After baby numero dos arrives, it may be a minute before I can seize an opportunity like this again, so I plan to make the most of it.
I have the next forty-eight hours to attend the Mid-South Book and Writers Festival in midtown Memphis. Some of the sessions I plan to attend; Kill Your Darlings, Better Reading Through Murder, Kidnapping and Extortion, The Mind as a Broken Mirror: Mental Illness in Writing.
I’m undecided between The Art of the Curveball and The Nail Biter’s Guide to Literary Tension.
It sounds like a macabre kind of day, but just what I need to kick my mystery up a notch.