One of the cool things about being a writer is that most of the time, you're not walking carefully down the beaten track. You're skipping or often leaping from one grassy berm to the other. Sometimes you're tiptoeing down that crowned spot in the middle where you could very easily fall off. Every now and then, when you're standing in the shade of the maple tree near the corner deciding which way to turn, you spend so much time saying "what if..." that you miss the turn altogether and end up in an unfamiliar meadow. Not sure what to do or which way to go or whether you should go at all.
Nan, Cheryl Brooks, Kathleen Thompson, and I were in the meadow. We comprised a panel at the Logansport, Indiana library, there to answer questions and talk about writing. I think we've probably all done it before, but not often enough to make it comfortable or familiar.
We had some moments. Kathi got there an hour early and
plan for how we were going to proceed, so we decided at the last minute--and a little beyond--what we were going to do.
Then people came in. We didn't fill the room, but those who were there asked questions and listened when we answered, seeming to appreciate the fact that we came from four different corners of the publishing field.
What I'm wondering--and please weigh in here!--is why we are that way. What makes us choose the grassy berms over the smoothness of the road well-traveled?
Have a great week!