The Next Release

I've been feeling as if I should be attending the Association of Writers and Writing Program conference (AWP) up in Woodley Park next week.

I'm still a writer, a reader, a lover of literature, right?

And yet when I peruse the listings of seminars and lectures and discussions I felt... nothing. Sure, a few held a bit of excitement - turning short stories into novels, historical fiction, research, that sort of thing. But that gasping enthusiasm I used to feel, that need to devour everything AWP offered, had gone.

Good or bad? I don't know. But I like my life as it is now: writing, reading, choosing images to complement the words. So I think I shouldn't feel as if I must do any one thing. And that actually feels very good.