Since my husband is a truck driver, he calls me with unique and interesting names of places.
This week so far he has been to North East, PA and Sunflower, GA.
When choosing and/or using the name of a place in a short story or longer work of fiction, it is best to check to see if a place with the actual name you are using exists.
My favorite site for this also gives detailed information about existing cities.
Check out http://www.city-data.com/ and let me know what you think.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Monday, March 5, 2012
A NEW PHILOSOPHY
Someone told me not long ago that if I had the chance to attend a large writer's convention that I had to go. I have been to theater and speech teacher's conventions, but I didn't realize the impact a writer's convention would have on me and my desire to write.
This past weekend I attended the Association of Writers and Writing Programs Convention in Chicago. I must have sported the proverbial deer in the headline look for the entire weekend: Chicago, the lights, the Michigan Avenue hotels, the writers. When 10,000 writers descend upon a small area (the Hilton Chicago and the Palmer House), there is a distinct energy an aspiring writer can latch onto and feed on.
Although I belong to four uniquely separate writer's organizations and groups, I still feel alone. After all, the writer's life, according to many, is a solitary life. But here among 10,000 like-minded individuals, I felt a silent support.
Trying to juggle workshops that interested me and the book fair, I didn't meet too many people. It almost felt like going to a Six Flags Amusement Park and trying to ride every ride in half a day.
It wasn't until I was leaving Sunday morning that I realized the impact that the experience had had on me. I rode the elevator down with a younger gentleman who had also attended the conference for the first time. He told me that he indeed enjoyed it, but that he was exhausted. I agreed with him. "But," I said, "I soaked up a lot of information. And I'm going home, getting organized, and writing my heart out so I can write as well as the people I listened to in workshops and the people I heard read their material."
If I happened to meet you, thank you for the bit of conversation we had. If you were there, did you enjoy your experience?
This past weekend I attended the Association of Writers and Writing Programs Convention in Chicago. I must have sported the proverbial deer in the headline look for the entire weekend: Chicago, the lights, the Michigan Avenue hotels, the writers. When 10,000 writers descend upon a small area (the Hilton Chicago and the Palmer House), there is a distinct energy an aspiring writer can latch onto and feed on.
Although I belong to four uniquely separate writer's organizations and groups, I still feel alone. After all, the writer's life, according to many, is a solitary life. But here among 10,000 like-minded individuals, I felt a silent support.
Trying to juggle workshops that interested me and the book fair, I didn't meet too many people. It almost felt like going to a Six Flags Amusement Park and trying to ride every ride in half a day.
It wasn't until I was leaving Sunday morning that I realized the impact that the experience had had on me. I rode the elevator down with a younger gentleman who had also attended the conference for the first time. He told me that he indeed enjoyed it, but that he was exhausted. I agreed with him. "But," I said, "I soaked up a lot of information. And I'm going home, getting organized, and writing my heart out so I can write as well as the people I listened to in workshops and the people I heard read their material."
If I happened to meet you, thank you for the bit of conversation we had. If you were there, did you enjoy your experience?
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