I am in Flagstaff. Arizona, at the Starry Heaven writer’s workshop. That means there are 11 of us critiquing each other’s novel manuscripts. We’ve spend months prepping, and it’s quite fun to meet in person. I knew two of the people from before, and had met a few of the others in passing. Some are new to me.  It’s a great group so far.
With so much other stuff going on in my family right now, and a new boss starting at work next Monday, I’m glad I committed to this months ago. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.
Flagstaff is very beautiful. The town nestles inside a forest, snuggling up against ridges and mountains. To a rain-soaked seattleite, the blue sky is an amazing color. Except it’s stained. One ridge over from us, the Schultz Fire is throwing up steam and smoke, the fire-clouds golden and bright white on the top and dark and threatening below. I don’t recall the last time I saw so many shades of gray. Because this is an iphone photo, it looks far away, but my eyes tell me it’s filling a lot of sky.
By the way, on my way out the door for this workshop I was careful to pack my camera charger and USB cord. I wasn’t careful enough to pack the camera. Sigh.
Oddly, the book I brought here to be critiqued is The Creative Fire.