Well, here I am again – procrastinating … it seems to be the thing I do best.
I was honestly just doing a bit of research on the net, managed to avoid scrolling through hundreds of poetry competition listings and felt pleased with my avoidance. Focused. I was. Honestly. Until, out of the blue, like Haley's Comet, The Romantic Novelist’s Association, zoomed into sight ... Links to authors, ideas, information and Mills and Boon! Like an old fashioned sweetie shop, the RNA seemed to have assorted meetings, workshops, talks, social occasions and what looked very much like … parties ! I do lurvve parties. So I decided there and then, that I liked all of those concepts, felt it worthwhile spending just a little more time there, rubbing shoulders with authors, collecting writing tips, noseying at blogs. Over two hours later, hooked up with twitter and following writers' facebook pages, toying with train journeys to London and remote rural villages with picuresque churches and coffee shops, soirees in Museums and writing master-classes, the the phone rang …
Gillian
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