I'm back from the Philadelphia's premiere writers conference. Yes, I'm talking about the 63rd annual Philadelphia Writers Conference. As always, I was blown away by the creativity of the conferees, the knowledge and nurturing of the workshop leaders, and the camaraderie—especially from a group of people who have devoted themselves to such solo arts.
Except for the poets... nothing solo about them... they cluster in crazy groups spouting Yeats. Maybe the "crazy" part comes from my bias as a fiction writer, but it doesn't mean I'm wrong!
I promise that the fact the conference coincided with Philadelphia's Beer Week was pure coincidence. A happy one. Kismet.
A special shout out goes to my fellow board members for all their hard work and making everything perfect. Great job Eileen (our leader-and-chief).
To all the great writers I got to meet this year, feel free to get in touch with me. I miss you guys already. If you want to stay connected with the PWC join us on facebook.
I would also like to congratulate James Kemper, a member of a writers group I lead. He won three awards for his writing including a fully funded scholarship to next year's conference.