Those teenage hopes who have tears in their eyes/ too scared to own up to one little lie

Today has been living up to its full potential of awesome, so far.

Waking up groggy (thanks to loud friends of roommate) and with a scratchy throat, I had my doubts. But things got better when I got to Ladyfest. After spending all the money from my piggybank at the craftfair, I headed downstairs for the workshop on self-publishing.

Now I must say, I was pretty excited. My two favourite bloggers doing a workshop together about blogging was pretty much the best thing ever. I was also pretty intimidated. I mean, sure, I blog, but it's more of a, "Hey friends, read about my life!" deal than, you know, real writing. So going there to hear them talk about how they blog felt a little like ripping off bandaid to expose new skin. You really want to let the thing breath, but the skin is all pinky and pale. And scared. Ok, so now I'm personifying skin. That's my cue to move on.

So anyway, the workshop was really good. Jen and Megan brought up some really interesting things I hadn't thought about (like long-armed staplers....) Just hearing about their experiences blogging and zine-ing made me feel more like a "real" blogger, like the ones I read. Oh, and I am so getting a zine together. I would love that so so much. It would deeply please the tactile part of me that loves little booklets.

One thing Jen said really stuck with me, which I will now impart to you in paraphrased format. It was something like, give value to what you write, blogs, zines, anything. I guess that's something I should work on. But I know that I will. I realized how much I love writing, in any form. But here's the thing: People say I'm a good writer (which is flattering, thank you) but I don't know if I understand that. Not because of that low confidence thing, but more because I feel like to be good at something, it has to be really hard for you. For instance, to become a concert violinist, you have to practice for hours a day for years and years. To be an amazing athlete, you have to train all the time. I don't train at writing... I just write. So I feel like it can't be that good, since I don't work at it. I mostly just jumble words around in my head until I like the way they sound and then I write them down. Does that really count as a creative process?

Well, whether it does or not doesn't really matter because I know I like doing this a lot, and I think I'll keep doing it. After all, to be good at something, you have to practice, right?

Anyway, after the workshop I got Jen to sign her book for me and I chatted with them a little, which was in of itself a little surreal. I mean, these people whom I read about and whom I consider Really Good Writers talking to me. About writing. I hope I'll be a Really Good Writer some day too.

My favourite moment of the afternoon: During the part about blogging communities, Jen pointed to me and said "That's how we know Evey!" That is probably the closest I ever felt to bring a rockstar. I'm a huge nerd.

Ok, I'm off to find a long-armed stapler and a statcounter for my blog.