Today was my day with my fellow writers and friends at Hastings Books and Music. What a fun group! Every Thursday morning nearly a dozen of us gather, order coffee and such, then sit and discuss movies, books, life in general and quite often sex talk sneaks in, all PG rated of course. One of the things we discussed today is that while we are all eligible for senior citizen discounts, there was not one mention of a doctor appointment or medications we are taking. We all commented on the fact that many of our conversations with friends and relatives seem centered around our deterioration. Not so with this dynamic bunch of creative folks. So Stimulating!
We did have our sad moment though when we all had to say farewell to Ann. Her primary home is in Colorado, but she spends the winters here in Havasu. This very talented writer publishs under the name A.E. Connors and is the author of Anzac, a novel about the relocation of English children to such far away places as Australia, New Zealand and Canada. It’s available at Amazon.com . I suggest you check out this often warm, sometimes sad fictionalization of an actual chain of events.
My sales of Hannah are keeping me so jazzed. Right now I have 249 ebook sales and 2 print books. Yahoo! I can only hope this sales buzz lasts a few more days.
Got an interesting bit of observation from a fellow writer today. We were talking about a rather famous author and how he is so good at character development and yet some of his books seems to fall below his talent level. My fellow writer, Jim, made the comment that he felt I was on the verge of a ‘break through’ in my writing. I’m not sure exactly what he meant, but I felt complimented.
Had a woman show up today who heard about our writer’s group and decided to drop in for a visit. Laurie fit right in and seemed to enjoy the stimulating conversation. I didn’t get a chance to talk with her before she left, but I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of her.
Guess that’s it for tonight. I’ll close with this bit of wisdom about aging – “To be seventy years young is sometimes far more cheerful and hopeful than to be forty years old.” Oliver Wendell Holmes