Workshop, Father's Day, and The Muse Speaks

Last week I faced one of my biggest fears in the face. I taught a writing workshop to thirty rising 3rd graders to teens. It's one thing to teach adults what you know about writing. It is quite another to approach a large group of children that possibly 'had' to be there. It didn't take me long to fall in love. The group was so creative. We made friends as they revealed their wonderful imaginations. It was a magical night as we built a story together. We concentrated on character, setting, and plot. We hung out long past our allotted time. I will teach a writing workshop to the adults in the fall.

On Sunday we did what most fathers in our area wanted to do for Father's Day. We played hooky from church and took to the road. Here's my hubby and daughter, spending quality time together at the lake. Please notice the bunny ears that have appeared close to Hubby's head. Mom is on shore taking time to finish her latest book review. 

Everyone must buy Tomato Girl by Jayne Pupek when it comes out on August 26th. It is one the most profound books I've read. Watch for my book review. 

Next week we leave for a trip to the Smoky Mountains. I'm already planning on what to take: my hiking boots, i-pod, and laptop. Who needs clean clothes and food? :). When I a new project is stirring, several things happen. The first is the giving birth dream. I always dream I'm giving birth. I can feel the child kicking in my womb. It is weird. Then not so long after the dream I get an antsy feeling. You know like something is about to happen but hasn't yet. Sometimes it takes a few weeks but I'll be somewhere doing something and I see a picture, a friend is talking, or a sentence will shoot through my head. I never know what will trigger the yearning, but when it hits, I know a big project is brewing. Yes, I've had the dream, the antsy feeling, and last week I picked up a book on churches in the Smoky Mountain Park. Bam! The yearning feeling nearly knocked me to my knees. I pulled the book off the shelf. One picture from 1915 keeps calling to me. It is a picture of an old bridge crossing a river. The bridge is full of people and the banks of the river are dotted with several people. The women are wearing long dresses and the men suits and Sunday dress hats. In the river stands who I presume is a preacher and a man about to be baptized. 

More than once this weekend I've been moved to look at this photo. I've learned when all this happens, I just wait, bide my time, and soon the character begins to speak. The exciting thing is I will have the opportunity to visit this very bridge next week. I can stand on it as long as I'd like. I can also walked the quarter of a mile into the woods and visit the church nearby. Maybe if I'm lucky the character will choose then to speak to me. 

Stranger things have happened. 

Ann