Today we bought tires and our thanksgiving turkey. God bless the fine people of CostCo, where both of those things were at a good price; priced low enough to buy us a thousand pounds of crackers, two hundred and fifty million batteries, some crab legs, some steaks and two hotdogs with sodas.
Since we had to wait three hours to get the tires put on the car and I didn’t want to take a boat tour (three hour boat tours have a history of not ending well, it seems), we walked from CostCo over to Barnes & Noble. I wanted to see a Nook, but they weren’t in stock yet. So I got to watch the same video I’ve seen on the internet and take away an pamphlet sized to scale. Kind of a shame for the B&N people that they didn’t have it there, but that was no biggie.
What turned out to be the biggie was that in Barnes and Noble there were a bunch of people from The Council For the Written Word in Franklin. When the woman I spoke to was telling me about it I thought she said “Castle For The Written Word” which would have been both kind of cool and kind of lame. But anyway….
You know how God puts things in your path when you’re being so stubborn and disobedient and truculent? Like how if you’re supposed to go to Ninevah but you get on a boat going the other way so then there are all these storms and you get thrown overboard and there’s a giant sea creature who swallows you and spits you out on the shore of Ninevah? And you’re STILL so stubborn about doing what God told you to do that there’s all this business with a vine withering and dying, because you just cannot get the picture?
So all the way down to CostCo I’d been telling my dearly patient spouse about my writing and my insecurities about writing and being frustrated about being out of the company of people because of my issues. And then there they were. A bunch of writers. They gave me pencils. We talked about The Writing Life. They gave me leads on writers’ groups in my area. And they blessed my pencils in a way, that they would serve me well during NaNoWriMo. (I said they were writers–half of them were doing NaNoWriMo themselves.) It was a nice way of feeling like the fish had swallowed me.