A good friend discovered my blog (I suppose having the link at the bottom of every single email I send might have helped him "discover" it). He calls this "JanetWorld" so that's what it shall be.
JanetWorld. I like that.
He also pointed out that despite my best intentions and publicly avowed promise to blog more, the blog has been completely silent.
JanetWorld is back in business. It's time for a Grand Re-Opening!
*rubs hands together*
So, what shall I talk about first? There is so much on my mind, it's hard to decide.
The writers conference I oversee has just wrapped up, and it went well. The editors were kind and helpful (Brian Farrey, Elizabeth Law, and Jennifer Arena--a triad of wonderful people!) and the headline author, Kurtis Scaletta, was fantastic.
Writers conferences invigorate me and help me focus my often-roving brain and remind me that I am a writer. It's an identity that's, honestly, hard to come to terms with, even after all those books on the shelf with my name on them. A writers conference brings me around again, and reminds me who I am and what I do when I'm not doing the zillion other things I do that suck the identity right out of most of us women. (Maybe guys too, but let's face it--no.)
I learned a lot not just about writing but about me, which is sort of the neglected part of the equation, isn't it? Here's what's on my mind tonight:
* I really do need to trust my instincts.
* I need a huge network of supportive friends. And I have them. I am blessed beyond human thought.
This is deep for the woman who dropped the entire plate of cat food on the floor this morning (and right down the front of her white nightgown too--that ain't ever coming out). And who yesterday called zucchini a root vegetable, and moved Bambi over to the lamb family, and today sort of leaped from Shanghai to South America and didn't take her listeners with her.
I really do have a PhD. I do. It's here somewhere.
Okay, it's been an incredible week.
Thanks, everyone who came to the conference. Thanks, AFL-CIO, for 100 years in North Dakota. Thanks, dearest Lord, for getting me through this week and keeping Your hand clapped over my mouth when I was perilously close to meltdownville.
And thanks to my family and friends who keep me sane and laughing and loved.