Old Friends

There's a cute little song I learned in Brownies:

Make new friends

but keep the old,

one is silver, and

the other gold.

This weekend was my 20-year reunion with classmates from our semester in London. Thirty of us, living together in a cramped bed and breakfast in London's Bloomsbury District, had the opportunity of a lifetime. Weekends in Bath, the Lake District, and Stratford upon Avon. Tours of castles, cathedrals, and country estates. Afternoons in Hyde Park, the Tate Museum, and the National Portrait Gallery. Evenings at the theater, concerts, and our favorite pubs.

It was a life-changing experience for an unworldly twenty-year-old like me, and I got to share it with an incredible group of students and professors. We were a huge family. We laughed together, looked out for each other, and learned a lot about the world and ourselves.

Being with this group after 20 years was like traveling back in time, only we'd all gotten a little wiser. Spending time with those amazing people, in that amazing city, was a gift. And it was greater than gold.

Office Space (Mine!)

Welcome! File in, and please squeeze together a bit to make room for the people in the back. My name is Anne Barton, and you'll be getting an up-close and personal look at my office today. I'll be pointing out things along the way that are indispensible to me, as a writer. I would encourage you to ask questions and explore; however, I will tell you the same thing I tell my kids. "Hands OFF the computer!" Now that the preliminaries are out of the way, shall we begin?

If I may, I'd first like to direct your attention to the left portion of the photo. On the top shelf of my Target Shabby Chic bookcase, you'll notice a small vase of flowers, which I feel lends an "organic, earthy feel to the space." (Warning: I watch a lot of HGTV.) Psych! The flowers are TOTALLY fake.

Just one shelf down, on the left, is my non-extensive collection of books on craft. On the right, you'll see three volumes of Calvin & Hobbes. Based on my last few contest submissions, I'm thinking I may need to tweak the ratio of craft to Calvin & Hobbes books.

The third shelf houses some of the books I brought back from the RWA national conference. I'm still working my way through them, but my favorite so far is The Leopard Prince by Elizabeth Hoyt -- I read it in two sittings and was so sad when it ended!

Beneath the monitor, on the desk, are a variety of sticky notes which give me the much-needed illusion of organization. That reminds me. Please do NOT open the desk drawer, as it's definitely not ready for prime-time.

Just past my desk is the requisite window. This one provides ample opportunities for daydreaming about dukes, keeping half-an-eye on children, and making lists of yardwork chores to be done.

Finally, atop my desk, you will have noticed a 200-plus count box of tissues. This comes in handy when my heroine is in big trouble and I haven't managed to write her out of it yet. And for all the happy endings. :)

In the spirit of full-disclosure, I feel compelled to tell you there are three items noticibly missing.

1. My fleece blanket, which used to be my daughter's. It's pink with monkeys and bananas, that's why I left it out.


2. A candle. This is so cliche, but I often light vanilla-scented candles when I write. Not on my desk though, because that is a four-alarm fire waiting to happen.


3. McD's sweet tea in a styrofoam cup. It's huge, sweet, and it stays cold all day. What more could you want?

In conclusion, I'd like to say you've been an excellent group. I want to thank you for coming, and hope that in the course of your visit you've learned a little about the writer's habitat. At this point, I'd like to open it up for questions. Anyone? Anyone? :)

Special Books

When I was seven years old, I gave my grandmother a small picture book for her birthday. It was, rather predictably, called "The Happy Birthday Book." Inside the front cover, in my best second-grade printing, I penciled:

From Anne
To Grammy
June 17, 1974

On my ninth birthday, she gave it back to me. I remember feeling insulted. Why would she give back my present? But underneath my original note, in her distinctive cursive, she had written:

For Anne Barton, April, 1976
because I enjoyed it so much
With love, Grammy

Well, two could play at that game. The next entry is printed in red marker:

To Grammy
June 11, 1977 (Happy B-day!)

I'm not sure what happened between 1977 and the next entry, but somehow the book came back to me, because in thick, gray marker I wrote (in a mix of cursive and block letters):

To Grammy, June 1980
Happy B-day Grammy!
Love, Anne

And again at the age of 16, I scrawled:

To Grammy (once again) with love, Annie
June 1983

The last entry is in my grandmother's handwriting:

May 1992 - What a change nine years has made! But I am so happy to tell you again that I love you and look forward to your wedding.
Grammy

That's a special book.