Bookworm

For what it's worth, this is my 400th post. In a way, that doesn't seem like many since I've been blogging for 3 1/2 years. Wait, is that right? No, just checked the archives and it's only 2 1/2 years.

Anyhoo, Mr. Daddy and I went to Savannah this past weekend, our third visit to the Savannah Book Festival and we had just as much fun as we always do.

The keynote speaker this year was Vince Flynn. I gotta be honest and say that I've never heard of him, but that's probably because he writes political thrillers and that's not my bag, baby. He doesn't look quite as much as a brylcremed Matt Lauer as he does on his website, but he wasn't hard to look at. And his talk was entertaining, though he liked to name drop about all the Presidents he's met. That's President of the United States, just to be clear. And if I'm being completely honest, his approach to writing seemed to be very different from that of most writers I've met or talked to. He approaches it quite like a business, making it his *GOAL* (his asterisks and emphasis) to be #1. And that seems to be his only motivation -- to be #1. Most writers I've talked to, or read, talk about the joy/pain of writing and the necessity of getting the story out of one's self. I don't know. It was just weird. Different.

We also heard Jonathan Rabb speak, as well as one of my favorite poets, Starkey Flythe! Rabb writes historical fiction, one of my favorite genres, and it was fascinating to hear him talk about how these stories come to life for him and how he chooses that one moment in time to write about. And Starkey. Well, Starkey is...he is frankly, indescribable, but I'll try. Humorous, self-depracating, obviously brilliant, somewhat scatterbrained, bewhiskered, and poetic. His poems are hilarious and touching, confusing and illuminating. Mr. Daddy and I were talking this weekend about who we'd rather hang out with, Vince Flynn or Starkey Flythe. And without hesitation I said "Starkey. Because you just know he's got better stories."

This was the first time we went back to Savannah that we didn't drop by our old places of employment to say hi or to see who's still there. We didn't drive by either of our old houses. We didn't go to our old church. So that was kind of weird. It sort of felt like that chapter of our lives has closed, no matter how much we loved it.

I don't know who the Savannah Book Festival will have lined up for next year, but I can pretty much guarantee you that I'll be back. I'd love to see you there too. All of you!