Lucky girl

Sunday night most of the Six Chicks from my writing group got together for a farewell dinner for me.

I am having a hard time saying good-bye to people.  I mostly just want to disappear and not have to say good-bye.  It's different for some people though--including my writing group.  I felt happy anticipation about going to Maryanne's house, knowing I was going somewhere safe and where I was loved, among people that wouldn't be swayed if there was some ugly crying involved.

The food was glorious and the company was even better.  We talked about our writing group and what our now somewhat virtual meetings will look like.  (I was instructed that I would have to take a nap on the days we meet--me joining through Skype.  Our meetings with these night owls are already late for my wimpy self plus I will be in a different time zone.)

Then we talked about Everything Under the Sun which is sort of our custom.  We're a somewhat diverse group but these women get me.  When I am with them, I feel like me.  I don't feel like I need to do anything to fit in or measure up or impress.   I'm just me and that is good enough.

When we said good-bye, there were tears (my fault, I started it) because I wanted to try to tell them, just a little bit, of what they mean to me.  I couldn't because I can't express it.  (I especially can't express it when I'm crying.)

I felt incredibly lucky when I was driving home.  I don't know what I did to deserve all the marvelous friends that I have.  They can't possibly know how much they matter to me.

We took fuzzy looking selfies with our phones.  Here's one version:

I think that's the shadow of my arm across everyone's faces...

In a totally expected turn of events, it's not a super flattering picture of me.  It doesn't matter though.  I love these women. Continuing to be in touch with them in our writing group may be one of my favorite reasons to love the internet.

Rapunzel

Last week a story I wrote was featured on our writing website.

Click on over if you'd like to read it.  It is a re-imagined Rapunzel, written at the Snohomish public library, surrounded by interesting people.

Mini writing conference

This picture was snapped with my phone.  Heather said, "Are you going to put it on Facebook?"  I didn't think I could because I didn't have my phone cord to attach my phone and computer.  Everyone looked at me like I was a crazy person.  A really low tech crazy person.  Then someone pointed out I could access Facebook from my phone.  Oh.  Instead, I told Heather not to confuse with me her voodoo and texted this picture to her.  She added the words so that's better anyway. 

There are only three of us pictured here but there are actually seven chicks now!  (The more the merrier.)  On Saturday night we had a mini retreat.  It was everything a mini retreat should be, productive, rejuvenating, inspiring and a whoooooole lot of fun.  We laughed a lot and ate a lot and I know neither of those things have much to do with writing but they were still pretty great.

We had a last minute venue change and met at a hotel in Lynnwood.  Heidi had secured us a suite where we could all spread out.  The mini fridge was loaded to the gills with drinks and the counters were full of snacks.  In preparation for the meeting, we'd all started a story.  Then we drew names (it felt like Christmas) and added to the story that belonged to the person whose name we drew.  We kept writing and passing on stories and distracting each other and then getting back on task.  JoLyn brought her adorable baby so we had chances to get a little baby snuggling in too.

At one point four of us ventured to the hotel restaurant for dinner, someone pulled a fire alarm--no, not any of us!--and we had to be evacuated.  Heidi had the baby and she refused to go outside in the chilly evening.  No one questioned her (if they had I would have told them good luck).  Over dinner we divulged all the latest happenings in our lives.  (OK, it was just me but they are very good listeners.)

All told we were there about seven hours.  We wrote a LOT and I'm excited about our stories which will soon be posted on our website.

Our writing group is one of the very best things in my life.  I love those women and how close I have become to them.  There is nothing in this world like good women, united in purpose, working and supporting and buoying each other.

It's pretty much like magic.  (Kind of like, did you know you can post pictures on Facebook directly from your phone?  Magic!)

Lucky day

This week my story has been featured on our writing website:

Today's the last day so you can read it all if you'd like.

The story is called "Lucky Day" in a nod to St. Patrick's day.  It's also a nod to small town Nevada, the time I spent waitressing in casinos and some of the zany characters I met along the way.

I'd call my life pretty lucky.

One reason is my writing group.  We met this week.  I made these in honor of my story:

I told Olivia I'd put a picture on my blog.

You can find cuter ones on pinterest complete with Popsicle sticks and green ribbon.

(You can always find a cuter version of everything on pinterest.  That's just how it goes.)

What isn't cuter on pinterest is my writing group.  They are bonafide originals.   Heather took more pictures of us, glamor shots really, for our website.  Some members of the group (everyone except me) are more photogenic than others (me).

(That's just how it goes.)

We laughed a lot and I'm still picking up white feathers from a shedding boa.  Every time I find one I smile and remember how lucky I am.

Love those girls I write with.

Another story

Today a link/reminder about our 6 Chicks writing website.  Here's the story we published last week.

(This is me, trying to do my part in the promotional department.)

It's pretty easy to promote something you love.  I love writing.  I love the ladies in our group.  I love the funny/sweet/sad/crazy stories we write together and separately.

I think you'll like this story too.

I feel like a grownup

Our writing group met the other night.  It always results in wisdom dispensed, creativity displayed and a whole lot of laughter.

And chocolate.

Heather, because she's awesome, presented us each with a gift:

Yes, that is a big old stack of business cards!

I feel like a grownup.  A real person.  I have business cards.

Want one?

I have a...few.

Mark looked at one closely.

He was disgruntled and wanted to know why my name was last.  I pointed out the names were in alphabetical order.

"Hmph."  He was unconvinced.

Then he looked through the stack.  "Did you know these are all the same?"

I said yes.

He asked, "Was that on purpose or a mistake?"

I explained how they are like an advertisement and we can give them to people to tell them about our website.

"Ohhhhhhh."

Then he started giving me ideas about how to distribute them.  We both think putting them on every car at Costco is a good start. 

Thanks for the cards, Heather.  Thanks for the everything, 6 Chicks.  I love my writing group!

My turn

During the holidays, my writing group has been posting holiday stories on our website.  (They're good--you should go read them.)  This week it is my turn!  I have written a New Year's story. 

It is a serial story so go back and check every day this week and you will be able to read more.

REALLY good for the soul

Last weekend my writing group had our first ever writing conference.  

It was at the beach house of one of our members.  We decided we have to do it again.  Annually, bi-annually, quarterly, weekly?  We're not sure what we can get away with.  It was fabulous though.

Fabulous.

This is 2/3 of the group:

JoLyn, me, Heather and Frances.  Heidi was taking the picture and Maryanne had taken a short break from the conference to take care of her sick daughter.

I recommend groups.  Particularly groups of women.  It doesn't have to be a writing group, but whenever you get a group together of like-minded women that are united in a cause, it turns out to be something special.

(And there's usually a lot of good food to eat.)

We met Friday night.

We had dinner and visited and enjoyed the view.

Late that night, the wimpiest member of the group (me) drove home to sleep in her own little bed.  The rest of them stayed up until the wee hours and were surprisingly chipper and pleasant when I joined them for breakfast the next morning.  I promise if I'd stayed up until 2:00 a.m. I would not have been chipper or pleasant.

Each of the six of us presented an hour long session on some aspect of writing.   

And there was a whole lot more visiting and eating and...visiting.  We're all mothers so of course we talked about children.  We talked a little about husbands.  (JoLyn and I discussed, while we were cleaning up the kitchen together after lunch, that if she died, she'd want her husband to get remarried because she would want him happy and not lonely.  I confessed if I died first, I'd already promised Adam that I would haunt him if he remarried.  The moral to this story is that JoLyn is a very nice person.  And maybe I could be nicer.)

Mostly, we talked about writing.  We've known each other for years.  We're in bookclubs together and we've served in church together and we have all the sameness of motherhood but there is a certain bonding that takes place when we talk about writing.  There's this vulnerability to all of us.  We admit how scary and hard it is.  We admit our small tender dreams that you can't admit to just anyone without fear of derision and doubtfulness.

The classes that were taught were inspiring and helpful.  Several of us gave writing assignments to each other and I was again astounded by the talent in the room.  What is going on in the brains of these women that can produce such brilliant writing?  We laughed a lot and applauded each other and the wimpiest member of the group (me) was even brought to tears once by Heidi's writing.

We were together all day Saturday.  We feasted on delicious food and each others' writing and on the decadent knowledge that our wonderful husbands and/or children were ably taking care of the homefront.

Lunch on the deck:

The last day of summer did not disappoint:

Failed attempt at a selfie:

My arms just aren't even close to long enough.

I wish I had the words to express the way I felt Saturday night when it was all over.  I felt renewed and inspired and grateful.  I'm profoundly grateful for the opportunity I have to know these women and benefit from their friendship and writing help.  We talked about how we need each other.  Our group is a safe place where we can share what we've written but we're also pretty honest with each other and we let each other know when we need to rework something we've written.

Before we left, we signed the guestbook at the beach house.  Someone quipped that someday when we were all famous writers, that page of the guestbook would be valuable.  I jokingly said, "People will say, 'I can't believe the six of them knew each other!'"

Even if becoming famous writers doesn't pan out (which would be unfortunate because we all want beach houses), I still think it's pretty incredible that the six of us have each other.

Lucky us.