My bedroom writing space
Yesterday, I was in the lobby area of the hotel having coffee with my wonderful husband and doing my Morning Pages (aka therapeutic journaling, aka daily brain dump), and a woman stopped at our table. She apologized for interrupting and asked if I was a writer. I looked her straight in the eye and said, “Yes. Yes, I am. And one day I plan on being a professional writer”. She noticed my Florida Writers Association t-shirt and commented on it and I was glad I had worn it.
She asked about my projects. I told her I had a blog that I was trying to pay more loving attention to, and an idea for a non-fiction book that I have established a URL for with the idea of blogging it into existence. She told me she had a screenwriting idea for a complete story arc for a current television show that has had a poor storyline into its latest season. I wrote down my blog URL for her. We exchanged the titles of a couple of books each thought the other might enjoy.
It was so cool!
I would go on and on here for awhile, but Mother keeps looking at her watch and asking when we’re leaving for Wills Point and our family Thanksgiving get-together. I guess I’ll stop making her wait.
Soapbox By Kay 
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