First of all, a little treat for robinwasserman:





Oh, wait. How'd that happen? That wasn't the... Okay, nvm, let me try again.

For Robin, though of course all can enjoy:




That taken care of, I thought I'd share some VERBATIM QUOTES from our retreat, so that all may learn and grow and spread your little wings as writers and humans, just as *we* all did.

+clears throat+

"Wouldn't it be great if our writing careers were like Choose Your Own Adventure books, so that we could flip through different career choices and see which one we die in? And then not choose that one?"

“For God's sake, just take it OFF.” (Context: Hot conference room in Florida.)

"If you want more readers, f*** your literary self. Give up some of what you love. Plot better. Learn more technique."

"Should you attempt to trade good for fantastic?"

"I’m not willing to put my trust in the 'perfect editor/writer' relationship because I don’t trust the publishing industry." Pause. "Or people."

"I will find the paper. I will make the form. I will find a copier. I will copy the form."

"Barry, you need to put pre-recorded mantras for each client on your answering machine. Oh, and pre-recorded messages for all our needs, like 'Press one for weepy anxiety attack' or 'Press two for "I need money" attack.'”

"I kiss my dog. So?"

"Neil Gaiman invented Lunchables?!"

And then it was off for more pool time. Cheerio!

P.S. Would somebody PLEASE go back to my previous entry and comment on Barry dancing with Hot Jesus? I was quite proud of myself for that one...

...ain't nobody happy.

(Oh. A little context. My darling agent, Barry Goldblatt, has this thing for Hot Jesus, and in my previous entry, I included a picture of HJ that didn't meet his standards. To which he replied, "That is NOT Hot Jesus! That's an imposter!!")

So Barry, this one's for you. ;) (And Jo, it's for you, too. You're the one conducting the orchestra.)

Oh, my wee ones, what a awesomely crazy weekend I’ve had at Club Barry, which is an annual writers’ retreat my brilliant agent bgliterary sets up. Last year, it involved Hot Jesus.




This year--oh, THIS year--it involved Hot Ray the Pirate Yoga Instructor (who was also incredibly nice and put up with our silliness with amazing grace).




Other delightful nonsense?

The food:




(Don't ask. Some sort of meat?)



(honeydew melon duckies)




(mmmmm. dessert. and yes, there were cookies, but no, Taylor, not as good as yours!)

Also, the drinks:




(that's how we were greeted at dinner every evening...)




(libba_bray and I sharing a yummy girly drink)




(lizbraswell and hilarious pirate employee who later insisted we go skinny dipping)
(liz is the one on the right!)




(me and my DARLING buddy Lisa McCourt)




(sararyan(who also goes by Sara Ryan), jbknowles, and Lisa McCourt enjoying funny little chocolates with, um, spirits in them, provided by the luverly Sara Ryan)

Now, lest you think that Club Barry was *all* about eating, drinking, and merry-making, let me assure you that it was not.

There were also:
--overly friendly squirrels
--awesome discussions about writing
--trapeze school
--and the startling discovery that Neil Gaiman invented Lunchables. (I know! Insane!!!!)



But further deets will have to wait until later, as my kids' babysitter, silly girl, actually expects me to COME HOME.

More soon!!!!