I wanted to fill you in on last weekend's writing club in Omaha.
But first, I have a confession, and it goes something like this:
Once upon a time, I was playing silly roadtrip games with one of my friends, and when she asked me what I'd bring with me on my deserted island, without hesitation, I said, "Notebook and pen." Unfortunately, I failed to bring my camera.
And when our financial advisor asked Jon and me our ideal retirement ages, I said 45, "So I can write."
Basically, reading and writing would be my Other Dream Job. Don't get me wrong, I love leadership development, Francis Becks and shooting proposals, weddings and portraits all over Toronto, but at the end of the day, writing is my happy place.
I daily crave writing time.
I compose sentences in my head as I'm walking down the street and happily edit and re-edit our current novel to make it the best version of itself.
Writing is my therapy.
So I guess I'm trying to let you know that the 40ish hours we spent editing in Omaha was a heap of hard work and we made more of a mess than I'd hoped, but every minute of it was water for my soul. We're still in the middle of our final editing process and *hope* to have it out by next spring.
We'll keep you posted.
Here's to dreaming.