And good cookies were had by all...

When I first moved here, I contacted the Writer's Society and asked if there was a critique group for authors writing for children and teens. The woman I spoke to said, "no, but if you start one, I'll join." And so I did just that. I attended their main critique group, introduced myself and stated my intentions of starting a group dedicated to children's/teen fiction.

Am I ever glad that I did.

We've been meeting for several months now, and I absolutely love the people in my group. They are talented, inspiring, critical, helpful, and encouraging. All of them.

Tonight I gave them Chapter Nine of my novel for teens. I experienced a flurry of writing a while back - but then had to stop in order to finish the assignments for the class I was taking. It was nice to get my mind back into the novel after a little hiatus. My group pointed out some problems with my tenses and had me examine where I wanted the story to go. They gave some great structural advice on the chapter, and some very positive comments about the book in general.

Now, I can't sleep. I've reworked the chapter according to some of the advice my colleagues have given me. This is good. This is as it should be. I should be kept up at night by novel dilemma's, right? It's two in the morning - I have to be up around 6:00 with my little guy and get the big boys ready for school. Aidan has a Dr's appointment in the morning, and James and I have a tax appointment in the afternoon. No time for naps. . . but like I said, this is all as it should be.


Image courtesy of Olivander on Flickr

Visions from the Next Morning

An early morning walk and thoughts on the novel are spinning within me. I write everything down when I get home - I don't want to miss anything - I'll worry about being coherent later.

Then on the drive to the doctor's I have a few more thoughts - mull them over while driving - scribble them down when the lights are red. My notebook is a mess - but my thoughts are good and sound.

We arrive at our destination with 20 minutes to spare. By the grace of God, Aidan is asleep. I park - roll down the window and write and write and I don't stop until it's time to go.

Life is good - I'm writing again.