Last Saturday, The Husband, the Wonder Poodle, and I all left the house and attended the Dahlonega Literary Festival in Dahlonega, GA. Aside from being an unusually chilly day for this late in March, it was marvelous. I met Kevin Hearne and Cherie Priest (with whom I shared many dog pictures), Molly Harper and Delilah S. Dawson, among many other authors I didn't know before, all of whom were chatty and funny and wanting to pet The Wonder Poodle. Said poodle performed his duties with great aplomb despite many distractions and many dogs (a celebration of the Appalachian Trail was also taking place along the streets). If my back and my energy had not begun to flag, I would have stayed all day and come back the next day but the whole "It now hurts to sit" thing dissuaded me.
It felt unusually good to be among so many readers and writers, even though I was at my most inarticulate, stumbling over my words and hyper-conscious of everything I said. Ahh, the joys of anxiety! I could have soaked up a lot more, spent more time chatting and listening (as it was a small festival, intimate, even, and it was actually possible to chat with the authors -- that's a huge treat). Stupid pain.
I'm working on that, by the way. Doctor's visit last week, e-rays and blood tests and new medication so I can sleep at night (but still wake up in the morning). Who knows? I might even start exercising.
I also wish I could relate specific, wonderful things said by these people, but it is all just a lively mush in my head. Of course, if I'd really wanted to do that sort of thing I should have recorded the panel sessions, but that would have required me to remember I could even do that, and I had enough to do managing Wonder Poodle so people wouldn't have to step on him,
Still, I feel a bit more inspired than usual. Several of them spoke to the problem I have, which is that of the internal editor not letting the words out. It feels good to know it isn't just my personal weirdness making that happen.