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.