I Survived the 2006 Maritime Writers' Workshop and Literary Festival and Lived to Write About It - Part 1

When you prepare like hell for something you've never done before and enter it with a feeling of enthusiasm and dread, knowing that you're ready and knowing that you're going to make a monumental ass of yourself regardless, time becomes irrelevant. The moment becomes everything. Every moment expands by the force of event, and just when you're finally prepared to accept monumental ass-ness, the string of events paving the road to your bared-butt expectations lines up, salutes, winks and dissolves.

It's over. Time swings its big brass balls again and you can get on with dreading whatever else makes your life an obstacle course of fear and loathing.

So much for the bullshit beginning that's supposed to draw you in.

The 2006 Maritime Writers' Workshop and Literary Festival at the University of New Brunswick (and throughout the bars and galleries of a remarkably sunny and hot downtown Fredericton) was a seat-of-your-pants blast. Over the next few days, I'll try to capture some of the excitement through words and images, and I want you to keep in mind that every word is true.

For instance, the pre-conference workshop on e-publishing was a resounding success. It was attended by an exceptionally talented purse. The purse had written a touching (though sometimes pretentious) story about being a vessel of identity and practical things like lipstick and mace.

But nobody wanted to publish the purse's story, so the purse signed up for Biff Mitchell's pre-conference workshop and now has its story ready for release at lulu.com as soon as an appropriate cover is found.

Shown here is the only attendee at the pre-conference workshop on e-publishing, a purse with something to say and the will to say it.