Wednesday, August 27th, 2003 - The Workshop on the Shore I was presenting my seashore goodies to Tim the other night. As I attempted to awe him with delicate pink-white-and-blue clamshells and broken sand dollars ("look at the subtle coloring!" "check out how much of the pattern you can see!") he looked at me in bewilderment. After looking at my small treasures piling up in his lap, a look of realization dawned across his face, "OHhh" he said, "That's right, you're from Indiana. You didn't go to the beach all the time and pick this stuff up over and over again." Sigh. My landlocked roots give me a sense of wonder over broken shells and sand dollars; is that so wrong? I'm so glad to be home with my pook and my kittens, but I have to say that I miss my workshop fellows already. It was just such a great time, and everyone -- every last person -- was so cool and interesting and we all got along so well, that it felt wrong to leave. We had the three from Wordos -- a Eugene, OR writing workshop -- who were all very with-it and gave very good, concise crits. Aurora was the youngest of the group, but even though I have a decade on her (!) I somehow kept forgetting she wasn't around my age. She and Blake went running the first day, and when they came back it was hard not to feel energized just looking at them. Blake and I got to chat on the walk we all took on the beach Sunday night, so I got to get to know him a little. It made me wish I'd had time to walk with everyone once, just so I could get to hear some of their stories. Everyone was such a good story-teller. Rob Vagle has very green eyes, but is quieter in real life than he is online. His story got everyone talking, and in a good way. Hell, many of them really did. Darlene is currently living in Bloomington, IN, which is only an hour from where I grew up and definitely one of my favorite places in the state. I asked her if she'd been to Lothlorien yet, and turns out she'd just heard about it and is hoping to do Samhain there. If it hadn't been six years since I'd been last, I would've given her names of people to look for, but it's been too long. I'm totally jealous she gets to go to their festivals (I told her my favorites) and, if it's anything like it was when I was there, she's going to love it and fit right in. Katrina blew me away. She was sharp. She had a great voice and was incredibly engaging to talk to and she knew about everything. She could even quote the source -- usually author and date, not just publication -- for pretty much everything she knew. She's done almost everything, and she kept saying that I reminded her of her daughter. I spontaneously hugged her once just because. Loved Katrina. Mary Anne and Jed I've both known a long time, so I didn't worry so much about spending too much time with them. They both gave excellent crits and did an amazing job of keeping the workshop running without incident. They were also exceedingly cute sometimes, and I think we were all a bit jealous of their cuddling. It was nice, though; it made everything feel really cozy. Jay Lake. Oh, man, Jay Lake wasn't quite what I'd expected; he was even better. What struck me about Jay was how incredibly confident he was while at the same time being able to take in new opinions and information. Dynamic, that's the word for Jay. He was incredibly fun to talk to, hang out with, learn from. And types so fast he reminds me of Tim. I briefly met Jay's wife, Susan, who seemed very nice. I got a quick tour of their home in Portland, and it was my dream house. She's an artist, and she's caressed that house with her sense of beauty and whimsy until it nearly lives and breathes on its own. There was a table with a drawer in it in their front yard, with the little drawer pulled out and filled with plants. Mirrors, writing on the walls, a wedding dress as a curtain -- these words do not do this house justice. It made me wish I'd managed to talk to her more. Their daughter, Bronwyn, was smarter than Jenn (according to what Jenn kept saying all weekend). I haven't been around kids in awhile (babies don't count) and it was fun talking to such an obviously bright, happy child. She was a frog for awhile on Saturday night, then Mulberry the cat, and I tell you the girl breaks character less often than most Hollywood actors. She made my clock go faster, she was so cute. Deborah Layne came by briefly for Sunday dinner and to hang out, and it was nice to get to know her a bit. She had great stories about growing up in Alabama; I'd love to hear her and Tim swap southern stories sometime. Sarah Prineas gives me an incredible sense of well-being about the world. She's down-to-earth, witty and smart. I called her a Grammar Goddess yesterday because just in passing, in her critique of another story, she improved the way I think about sentence structure. I know, she'll tell you it's too rigid, but I think it did me good to hear anyway. I'm kinda insecure about grammar, so that impressed me. I also loved her stories about her family. Like I said, lots of good story tellers at this workshop, even when they were just chatting. Greg van Eekhout was someone I adored even before this past weekend, one of the "peeps" I hung out with at ConJose last year. Greg, if you didn't already know, is a dangerously good writer. His words, they cut me, with their edge. To tell you the truth, he's so good he intimidated me, just the wee tiniest of bits before this weekend. I stayed up late talking a long time with just him and Jenn at this workshop, and I totally got over that. He's still just as good a writer, but he's also a good friend of mine. He's also a hell of a nice guy, but not so he'd make your teeth hurt, you know? He can insult you and make you feel like it was the sweetest compliment ever. Tell me that's not edgy. Sorta. ;-) And, finally, Jenn Reese. Jenn is my hero, for more reasons than I could name off here. Every time I see her I want to attack her, just because I think her martial arts training is the coolest thing ever and I want to see her in action very badly (luckily I told her this and was warned that if I truly startled her she might put my eyes out while defending herself before she even realized it was me. This I consider a very good thing to know). She, along with Sarah, is a fellow "binge writer". Jenn's stories are stories I wish I'd written -- her subject matter alone would do it, but she's also incredible with mood, tone, voice and the beauty of her writing tugs at me when I read it. I also get along with her really well. I trust her. I feel a kinship when she tells me stories from her life. I wish she lived in my town; I'd hang out with her as much as she'd let me. She's just so cool. I know I haven't talked about the crits. I learned a lot from other people's crits of other people's stories. Or the adorable log house we stayed in. Next time I'm taking the ocean room, dammit, instead of the one right next to the bathroom. Or the ocean. Ok, I sorta covered the ocean a bit in the first paragraph of this entry. But, honestly, what it all boiled down to was an astounding group of people. We all got along well. I'm not just saying that, either, and that, my dear ramblers, is no small thing. Especially among writers. I have more pictures, but they're on Tim's machine and he needed to write tonight. I will try to get them up soon. I miss you. And you, and you and . . .

Exercise Log: Walked a bit today, hoping to do more later. Maybe. Current Publications: "Famishing" in Strange Horizons. My first pro sale! "Wetting the Bed" and a collab with Tim Pratt, "A Serious Case of Fairies" in Floodwater Currently Reading: 3000 Miles per Hour in Every Direction at Once by Nick Mamatas Donate money to my teeth, our moving fund, our wedding fund, or our writerly projects (Floodwater and Flytrap!). Every little bit helps!

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