I’m back in my hotel room with a splitting headache, maybe even a migraine, or trending toward one. I’m exhausted, I have to drive 900 miles tomorrow, just to get up and go to work Monday morning, missing the Super Bowl entirely.
And I feel great. I learn so much at this event. I’ll do it again next year too, if I can. I reconnected with friends made last year and I made new friends. I was inspired, educated, humbled and motivated. I find it hard to imagine a more encouraging environment than this one.
But it’s over. This time next year I expect to be in our new home, firmly entrenched in my new job, and watching sunsets over Norfork Lake. I won’t predict how many more books I’ll have out, but it will be more than I have now, plus I will be writing and submitting my first short stories for publication.
One thing this event has done is make me more determined than ever to “succeed” as a writer, and more convinced than ever that I have the ability to do so. Now, time to bury my head under a pillow and hope this isn’t an actual migraine, but right now, I don’t really mind it so much. Which is amazing in itself.