I'm doing something very interesting this weekend. I'm holding a writers' retreat at the cabin in Idyllwild. Four of my friends - Avalon, Tobi, Sofya, and Luce (aka Moriarty) - are coming with me, and we're going to write together. Well, no, that's probably not all we're going to do. In fact, it's not. We're probably going to waste quite a bit of time in the way that similarly-minded friends waste time when they're all together in a big house in the mountains. I don't actually know how similarly-minded friends waste time when they're all together in a big house in the mountains, but I suppose I'll find out.
I feel like I'm some kind of writing guru leading my younger, less-experienced adherents and admirers into a spiritual lesson in the mountains. There is a small amount of truth to this; I'm actually the oldest of that group (which isn't saying much; I'm turning eighteen over that week. And now everyone knows how stupid and pretentious I've been all throughout writing this blog.) And they all collectively admire my writing skills. But I'm not a writing guru by any means. Unless they proclaim me one, in which case I shall accept the title. Though I do have things to teach them, mainly about the submissions process. I am very familiar with the submissions process. I just submitted some poems to Black Warrior Review today, and I'll likely submit more. Certainly more over the weekend. I'm going to have everyone submit something.
Also, because I am a nerd and I'm certain a lot of people who would read this blog are nerds as well, I am observing Towel Day today. It's a celebration in honor of Douglas Adams, who wrote The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. One celebrates by wearing a bathrobe, drinking tea, and/or knowing where your towel is. I have done all three of these things in addition to bring my copy of Hitchhiker's Guide to school with me. (And I brought the bathrobe, tea, and towel to school as well. It's that kind of school.)
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