One (or rather 4) of the best things about a Pennwriters conference is that our published authors are so approachable.  The speakers beg you to ask questions.  They make you work like crazy in the workshops.  AND, for participating in his sessions Tim Esaias rewards you malt balls.  I had two.

     The conference kicks you into high gear for three days.  You come home fired up and ready to write.  People like Dave can plop their butts into their chairs and write like crazy.  People like me have to go back to reality and unpack,  feed the dogs, take them out, write checks for bills, take the dogs out, cook dinner for DH, eat, and then, hopefully, sit down to write.  It didn’t happen that way.  When I sat down to write, it was almost one in the morning because after dinner I fell asleep in my chair with Gavin.  Remember, I was sleep deprived.

     I turned on my computer and checked my E-mail.  Dave had E-mailed twice, once that he’d already done some rewriting and the second time to show me even more changes.  I wish I could be the hare with my writing like Dave.  No such luck, I’m the tortoise.

     Ah, the conference.  The joy of seeing my writer friends I haven’t seen for a year, or if they missed the Pittsburgh conference, two years.  Then there’s the excitement of meeting new writers and making new friends.  Nothing tops it and I look forward to it every year.

     On Friday and Saturday there are two hours of sessions in the mornings, and after a mid day break, two hours of sessions in the afternoon, we had a choice of four sessions per hour.  What to do?  What to do?  (You choose the one that you think best suits your needs.)  If after sitting through a few minutes one finds it isn’t what one wants, he/she can leave and try another.  No one is going to stop him/her or question where one is going.  Arriving late to a session isn’t a sin either.

     Believe me, there were sessions that ran at the same time that I was dying to attend, all of them.  I did narrow it down to two but since I can’t split myself into two people, I had to resort to other ways to decide.  For example, Ramona Defelice Long had a session on Elements of mystery writing and Loree Lough was presenting hers on Characters: why they do what they do at the same time.  I had to flip a coin.  Sorry Ramona but Loree won the coin toss.

Sunday morning there were more sessions.  Four from 9:15 to 10:15 and three from 10:30 to 11:30. 

     In every session I attended, I took copious notes and made sure to have whatever handouts the speaker provided.  All of which I will reread and use until they fall apart.

     The packing of the suitcase has begun, sort of.  I’ve been setting out the things I plan to wear at the conference.  My toiletries are packed and so are my shoes.  I probably won’t wear the shoes that I’ve packed but they are there if I want something dressier than sneakers or flip-flops.  I can’t help it I hate wearing shoes, even sneakers.

     I gave G the key to the yard gate so she can water the plants that are in pots we know DH will forget them.  She won’t.  She has permanent possession of a house key so she will check on DH and the pups too.  Her hubby B is going to see if he can find the glitch in my car while I’m gone.  It seems that there is a fuse blown somewhere in the car.  The cigarette lighters don’t work and I use them to plug in my air compressor to fill my tires.  As on my old van, this one too has problem holding its air.  (Danged, aluminum wheels.)

     I did the laundry so DH can’t complain he has no clean socks or underwear.  There’s plenty of food in the freezer and fridge and several restaurants that deliver he won’t starve.  The dogs have food and treats.  I downloaded the pictures on my camera and cleared the card.  The battery is charging.