Spring snow

Had a lovely time just outside of Omaha, in Mahoney State Park, talking about sense of place and writing processes and the many different paths we follow to tell stories and to sell them with Nebraska’s SCBWI chapter — and akamarykate (who is as terrific to talk to in person as online), and twitter guru Jenn Bailey (who talks about social media in sensible, grounded ways).

As I began talking about place Saturday morning, more snow began to fall, smaller, still-soft flakes that drifted to the ground and turned the bare trees to shadow. That snow was still falling, against a white sky, as we all did the writing exercise that went with the talk. I stepped outside before doing some writing of my own, letting the flakes fall into my hair and melt against my sleeves, smelling the cold and the wet in the air.

It was a snow that held an edge of spring though. Or maybe that was just me, remembering walking through the zoo with akamarykate the day before, as the wet snow fell in spring-thawing chunks from the trees. (And, among other things, onto the black fur of some rather unconcerned bears.)

I’m told usually there’s wind to go with that snow. Clearly, I’ll need to rely on locals if I ever write scenes set the area. Or else, you know, go back. 🙂

The conference chatter continued through dinner in the park with those who could stay, and then went on in the cabin we were staying in that night, late enough that I crashed remarkably early when I got home Sunday.

So much fun to watch conversations happening, to see writers getting inspired, to get inspired myself. Thanks for inviting me, SCBWI Nebraska! (Or, as we realized during the hash tag portion of Jenn Bailey‘s presentation, SCB Wine Braska. :-))

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