The 19th arrived, and I made my way to a tiny village in the middle of no where in search of the Writing Group that I'd unearthed.
My head was full of a myriad of worries queuing up, waiting to be answered.
Would I be able to contribute anything to the group, or would I just sit there out of my depth?
I knew that some of them were published, but published where and how? For all I knew, they could be patting themselves on the back for spending a small fortune on a vanity press run, and had tried flogging them to any one who gave them the time of day.
The guy that I'd spoken to on the phone was in his 70's. He said that I would be one of the youngest there. Would they take kindly to someone whose head is bursting with stories to be written, and who gets very passionate and animated about his projects?
And these were just the tip of the iceberg.
I walked into the room, and there was a chorus of surprised exclamations at having a new face turn up. I was made to feel very welcome as they invited me to join them.
They quizzed me on what I was currently working on, and what my goals were, and seemed genuinely enthusiastic. It was a strange feeling to have an audience who understood my passion, and knew where I was heading.
Then it was their turn to tell me about themselves. Some of them had been published, had agents, and their books are the shops shelves. Others wrote for pleasure and had no intentions of getting into print, and there were some who were in the same boat as me, working towards getting their manuscripts accepted by agents and publishers. It also became clear that some of these people were incredibly talented, and had a tremendous command of the intricacies of the English Language.
We then discussed/critiqued some of the work that they had been working on, and before I knew it, the meeting was over.
The final verdict is: I think I'll fit in perfectly. I also think that I will be able learn a great deal from these guys. Roll on next month's meeting.