Betty Bolté

I was reminded recently about the startling number of World War II veterans who pass away each day. I am not good with numbers, so they don't stick in my brain any better than a butterfly leaves a footprint on my hand. (Like I've had one land there!) But you get the point. Anyway, my dad is a WWII vet and I wonder how much more time I'll have with him. He is a national treasure, though most folks do not know him. Those lucky folks that have spent time with him absolutely without fail never forget him. I don't know what magical gift he has but somehow he manages to connect with each individual AS an individual. What a wonderful talent that is!

The RWA National Conference is finally underway and I'm typing this from Orlando, Florida. I came here with the one primary goal of meeting as many new writing friends as I can. To that end, I parked in the Lobby Lounge of the Dolphin hotel with a glass of wine and a book. It wasn't long before another attendee joined me, then another, then two more. Just that easy I'd made four new writing acquaintances (it's a bit early to call them actual friends, but it IS entirely possible for it to evolve in that direction).

Maybe some of my dad's talent has rubbed off after all.
Cheers!
Betty