Writing Weekend

We woke up to a house that was 55 degrees, thanks to the frigid temperatures which had frozen the gas in the lines. Thankfully the husband was on it (after showering in luke-warm water): knocking ice out of the exhaust vent, trouble shooting on the phone, and blow-drying the exposed bit outside between the ground line and the house before heading to work.

But now I'm off on a writing weekend! (In a hotel room where I can crank the temperature as high as I like.) Smile.

One of the best parts of a writing weekend is the fussing around in the hotel room before I sit down and begin. The bag of snacky foods (to keep me in the room) gets properly distributed... mango yogurt and pub cheese spread by the window (since that's as close to a fridge as this room has -- and that'll be plenty cool enough), soft pretzel bread and white tea by the miniature coffee maker. The bag of cashews...already had to be put in the bathroom as it quickly became a source of distraction. Chocolate bar on the desk.

I haven't accomplished enough yet to have earned my glass of wine.

The reading book and journal go on the little round table next to the comfy chair. The suitcase on the suitcase rack from the closet. Coat hung up. Boots by the door.

Then comes unpacking the work-in-progress out of its blue plastic folder onto the spare bed. The printed, edited portion of the play in the green folder rests at the foot of the bed. The pile of index cards with plot points beside that. On the turned down portion of the comforter go the legal pads with character notes, scribblings from other books on existential risks, questions to be answered, and portions of dialog that would only come out on paper. I pull a crumpled sheet from the folder entitled "Six Things Julian Needs to Fix" with four things listed under it and place it with some other loose index cards and small sheets in the middle of the bed.

Of course, I set up the laptop, log in with the wi-fi password, set my Auto Response on email, cue Pandora... and indeed, it is time to open the lid of my imagination.