Cape Cod Writers Conference

I’m nearing the wrap-up of my long weekend here in Hyannis, Mass., teaching sessions on speculative fiction at a conference that is very much about all kinds of writing. I’ve met some really nice poets, for example, and reconnected with a thriller writer, Gary Braver, who lives in the same town I do. For some reason, I never see him except at writers events. I met another writer who’s getting ready to move to my town, and several students who already do. This is largely, but not entirely, a middle-aged crowd, and quite dedicated to what they’re doing. My SF class is small, but focused and quite talented.

Here’s proof that I showed up at the conference center:

And here’s how I demonstrated by example how one can seek out necessary rest and inspiration. I needed it, since they scheduled me for 8:30 in the morning sessions. Anyone who knows me knows that is a profoundly risky idea! (Still, it worked out okay.)

The ocean is always good for a few ideas for me, and sure enough, after about a half hour of floating and swimming in the Atlantic, a couple of ideas came to me for the rewrite of Reefs, things that happen down the road a ways.

Day two, after a class and a private mentoring session, I hopped in my trusty Landshark and drove to my favorite place in Sandwich, the beginning of the bike path along the Cape Cod Canal. I got in a solid hour of roller blading, and returned just in time to shower for the banquet. (We won’t mention that I forgot that the keynote speech was before the banquet, not after, and I sort of missed—no, I said I wasn’t going to mention that.) Anyway, as usual, I’m drawn to the water when I have the opportunity. Best way to clear the head, reward myself for doing some good work, and gather thoughts and impressions for later.