How to Kill Harold Crick

When I tell people that I hear voices, their reaction -- after scooting away from me -- is to suggest medication and perhaps time away from the general public. With that kind of treatment, it was refreshing to be in a room full of people that also hear voices. And the room wasn't padded, either.

The voices I hear aren't real people. Well, they're real to me, but I can't introduce you properly. They are the characters in my books. With all that jabbering, they're busy vying for attention, attempting to explain motivation, and just trying to get more page time. Sometimes, they just whine. The happens when I haven't been writing. If that's the case, their thoughts start crowding into my mine, even at the most inconvenient times. Just this morning, Doug, my current main character, wanted to talk about the beginning of his book (he doesn't like it but he's always had self-esteem issues) and The Man wanted to talk about vacations. Kinda hard to give both of them my attention. Lucky for me, Doug is used to being ignored (his mom never was very attentive) so he agreed to wait until after breakfast.

But I was talking about that group of voice-hearing people, wasn't I? (It's no wonder I can't keep thoughts straight...I've got three conversations running through my head right now.) I was feeling the itch for some learnin' when I saw a mention on Facebook about a creative writing class. AND it was taught by Annette Lyon. Sweet! Even though it meant a half hour drive to class on a Saturday morning (I am so not a morning person, especially on the weekends), I was in! And what a glorious six weeks it was! Finally, people who spoke my language. And they were just as obsessive over plot holes! It was bliss.

And then it ended.

*sigh*

Anyone else know of a creative writing class nearby?

Oh, and anyone have suggestions for Spring Break locations? We want to go camping!