RWA National: RWA-WF Mini-Conference

Wow! I started off this year’s RWA National Conference with the first-ever mini-conference hosted by the Women’s Fiction chapter of RWA. RWA-WF is an amazing chapter in itself, and the mini-con did not disappoint. We opened with a two-hour session from Michael Hauge (no details here; you’ll need to visit his website for those since the material is copyrighted). Hauge has melded the inner...
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Road Warrior

Today, mimi flies home after two full weeks on the road. The days have been a blur of essay reading and presentation, first as a reader for the AP English Language and Comp exam, then as a trainer for AVID. Now, 1,981 essays (yes, you read that right) and four days of workshops later, I am packing my trusty sapphire Lands’ End lighthouse rolly suitcase for the last time.At first, the travel was...
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Color Him Father

This photo is courtesy of the Wayback Machine–Christmas, 1982 to be exact. I made my social debut at the Chester Assembly in the small South Carolina town where my Daddy grew up. That’s me with the handmade silk dress (thanks, Mama!), my graduation pearls, and my grandmother’s kid gloves. The handsome man on my arm is my father, John N. Gaston, III.There’s no denying I’m my father’s...
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Fixin’ the World

Tonight at dinner, mimi and her companions got an ugly reminder that there are some folks out there who just don’t get it. The three of us were enjoying some gorgeous Kentucky weather at a sidewalk table of a Louisville pub. Next to us were two nicely-dressed women about our age doing the same. Later in the evening, our server, a darling law student at the U of L, came to us with a puzzled face,...
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War and Remembrance

In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, flyScarce heard amid the guns below.We are the Dead. Short days agoWe lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie, In Flanders fields.Take up our quarrel with the foe:To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold...
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