This was posted a lot time ago of parties we used to have at the Venice house. The little building with the two windows was our little one car garage that I remodeled into a studio space for me- a place to go write and paint. We had a Writer's Group- Workshop that met there once a month I think- maybe twice a month? David Carren, Rex (that guy standing in the doorway) Jim Badham sitting in the maroon sweater there, me with my hair and baby on knee, Jim Anderson, and Elena and Diane Williams and I tried to get Lorraine and Bobbie Goodwin, but it didn't quite work for them. Anyway, we read everything ahead of time, analyzed and critiqued and made suggestions and tried to help people get where they wanted to go. It probably was the best workshop I've ever attended and I learned a lot. All the folks are off somewhere else now except for Rex and me. The baby on my knee is graduating from college next month and I did finish the novel that I started in this group and self-published it. Those were the days, huh? We're not done yet. I have six pages into my four days working on the first draft of a brand new book. A new song that I'm practicing to get the kinks out- that has a thirty year old chorus that I made up in the shower and brand new verses to make it good. I've given up on the GLAWS writing group. Reached my burn out point. I need people to hold my feet to the fire.
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