I knew when I started out that I was being stupid. It would have been very stupid of me not to know I was being stupid, and I may be stupid, but I'm not that stupid. Snow was falling thick and fast. Slush was being slung around on the roads with more speed than a Slurpee machine. And yet I kept driving. Why? The lure of the critique group was dragging me forward.
Last April, I started meeting weekly with Keith, Kim, Heather and Nichole to read manuscripts and get valuable feedback. Candace has joined us a few times as well, although her schedule has kept her from coming for a while. I knew these four from our conferences and admired their work, and as we met to read, I came to know them as good friends as well. I look forward to our meetings and couldn't fathom the idea of missing out.
Finally I made it to Nichole's, the drive taking about three times longer than it should have due to the weather. We had a good meeting, although we missed Kim who was elsewhere, and then we went out to go home. It appeared that we might have to have a sleepover instead.
This is me standing next to my very snowed-in car in the dark at 9:30 at night, with Heather's car stuck in the background. We took turns for about a half hour pushing each other out. But let me just say, if I'm going to get stuck in the snow, these are the people I want to get stuck with.
Keith -- even though he had four-wheel drive and could have easily gone home all snuggy warm, he stayed until we were dug out and got himself completely drenched in the meantime.
Nichole -- even though she had a sprained wrist and had just recovered from a horrible flu, she was out there pushing on cars, wielding shovels, and taking pictures.
Heather -- even though her car was the first to get free and she could have gone home, she turned right around and came back to help push mine out.
That's what you call friendship, guys. And I wouldn't trade it for anything, not even a four-wheel drive truck that eats ice and snow for breakfast.