Writing, Intuition and New Pals

I joined a writers group several months ago.  It’s a small, older group of intelligent men and women.  We couldn’t be more different.  And I think my perception might be out of whack.

Last month, I thought the attorney with hair like George Clooney got mad at me because I hate gerunds (passive verbs with –ing), but yesterday he laughed about it.  The same goes for the man I call Freckle Head.  I don’t mean to be disparaging, since my dad and all my uncles have freckle heads and it’s something I like a lot, but my mother’s side is filled with Asperger/autism tendencies and I tend to be too blunt.  He laughed when he asked what I would say about his recent piece.

Mrs. Warmth is also an attorney but she feels like a sweet mother.  She gives me so much with her accepting nature that I almost don’t hear her suggestions.  Mrs. Warmth’s blue eyed husband is the antithesis of me, but his comments put my head into a tailspin, which is always a good thing with editing.  A female therapist seems skittish and yet complete.  My take on her is….I can’t call it. 

Sometimes intuition can work well and help guide us.  Other times it’s like a firework dud. 

I do know I get something sweet from everyone I meet.  A philosophy, a smile, a held door, a laugh.  I used to miss so much when I was young, but now I pay attention.  My days fly by and my nights envelop me.  Where a nightclub with live music used to be on my favorite list, people and words and love and beauty top it now.

I like my writers group.  They give.  To give is to live.