Imagine how happy I was to see this sign. For one thing, I am always striving for balance — how much time to exercise, read, write, see friends, spend time with my family. I am determined, as most of you know, to write this manuscript, treat the work seriously; adhering to hours set aside each day, responsibilities and benefits. This usually falls apart back in Boston when I want to do everything BUT stay inside and write or research. Especially when Olive puts a small paw on my knee, indicating it’s time for her.
I want cookies in both hands. Now, that lends to an extra roll around the middle, but a sense of pleasure and reward no matter what — double dessert, double espresso, double the treat. I thrive with the work, the research, the failures, the kudos. In actuality, how to hold everything I love to do in just two hands?
Last weekend I felt doubly blessed. At the Chuckanut Writer’s Conference I had the option of Erik Larson in one room, Stephanie Kallos in another, Elizabeth George speeding down the hallway in her red Converse sneakers. Carol Cassella smiling at absolutely everyone. A few new authors I had the pleasure to listen to and question.
The conference was a cookie in each hand: Two days with my hands full of notes, paper, pens, my head full of great ideas, an interesting person at every turn. Wait, that’s three.
I needed two more hands.
I can get happily fat on that.