I attended my first meeting of a critique group this past week. I sort of put it together by throwing an invite out to the Austin WriterGrrls, a group of which I am a member, and two women responded. We met over some very good food and exchanged notes and ideas on our respective pieces.
I was concerned that sensitive little old me would not take kindly to constructive criticism, but I was wrong. I found their notes so helpful, and true! Sure, I may not always agree and I may not take every suggestion, but it is great to have someone point something out to you that you, as the writer, just couldn't see.
In other EXTREMELY EXCITING YET TOP SECRET news, I have been offered a reading/signing event at a bookstore. Like a real author. I guess "offered" is not the proper term since I approached them, but they have enthusiastically accepted. The catch? It's the damn story I wrote using my pen name. Which means my alter-ego gets to have her own party, and I don't. Which means I can't even tell you the details here or invite any of my friends.
Ms. ------ is going to become famous at this rate, while April Boland remains a hack. Cruel irony.
If it wasn't my life, I'd find this incredibly amusing.