Month: February 2024

I’m going to be at LTUE this week and I’m teaching classes. My classes are available to anyone with a membership at no additional charge.

Thursday

• 12pm Kaffeeklatch – Come have a small group conversation with me. Sign up is required and seats are limited.
• 4pm Supporting Your Writer – This is a class for all the people who want to know how to support the writer (or other creative) in their lives.

Friday

• 3pm Successful Crowdfunding – I’ll talk about setting up your crowdfunded project to be successful whether or not you make the money you hope for.

Saturday

• 10am Introverts Unite! Finding Companions for Your Writing Quest – a class about how to build connections and community in ways that work for you and for your friends.
• 1pm Marketing as Storytelling – a class designed to de-mystify and reduce anxiety around marketing your work. Your storytelling skills can be very useful in marketing.

There will also be a table in the dealer’s hall where you can buy my books and sign up for my Structuring Life to Support Creativity crowdfunding campaign. I’m not sure how much I’ll be at the booth, but it is a good place to go and ask where I’m at. If you’re going to be at LTUE, come find me and say hello!

Yesterday I had a reason to go sorting through my files and re-read several of my short stories. It was nice to revisit the ideas in those stories and the feelings I wove into them. It reminded me of the beauty and power of short form writing. Right now I’m in a drafting and editing push on a non-fiction book. Once that is complete, I’d like to play with poetry and short stories for awhile. They’re so lovely and full of potential.

I’d hoped that February would be the month for playing with poetry, but I am still drafting. And preparing for a convention. And running crowdfunding. And helping a couple of young adults through some life transitions. February is too full of lists to unfold my brain into word play. Instead of trying to shoehorn this into the spaces between, I will let the plan drift forward in the calendar like a mirage on the horizon. A reward after the busy month is done. Yes, I know that “mirage” implies unreachable, it suggests that my month of playing with words will never arrive. That may be true, but hope on the horizon has value in itself. A value that is separate from the joy of arriving at an oasis.

Right now I feel joy in looking ahead toward a (possibly imaginary) month when I get to play with words in short formats.