Poor Little Me
Everyone has left me. Three little divas fled the nest, headed south for the winter and the cold climes of Melbourne for the RWA Conference. None of them seemed worried about the one left behind. They didn’t write. They didn’t text or tweet. No wish you were here, gee it feels like we’re missing a limb without you, no how will we get through this without Sami. But I don’t mind, really. I’m tough. Sniffle. I’ll keep the home fires burning, keep the blog alive while they’re off having a grand time in a swanky hotel talking to other writers, listening to the awe-inspiring wisdom of Bob Mayer and Susan Wiggs. Buying loads of books, possibly getting them signed. Sniffle. I’m not jealous.
Anyway, I’m much too vital here to go galavanting off to other cities. I’m running my workshop at the online version of the conference tomorrow. Writing Hot Scenes by Sami Lee. It’s going to be a doozy. People are going to be hanging off my every word, mmmmwwwwhhhhaaaa!
Oh did I say that out loud?
But seriously, hope everyone in Melbourne is having a great time. Really.
But not too great.
Have a great… or maybe an okay weekend.