A GOOD DISCOURSE CONFERENCE JANUARY 22, 23 and 24th

We began creating this conference as the result of a nag in the heart, over the loss of community that should be and for a multitude of reasons, isn't. Four women met virtually to discuss the ideas, and our goals with the conference. We needed a name and came upon the quote, "A Good Discourse is that from which nothing can be retrenched without cutting into the quick." It was attributed to Saint Francis de Sales, patron saint of Writers and Doctor of the Church. We shortened it to "A Good Discourse," and thought how perfect and carried on. Seeking speakers to delve deeper into how we could forge a "good discourse" amongst the community of Catholic writers, one of our potential speakers researched and found, the quote to be misattributed to the saint. Saint Francis de Sales said plenty of things about governing one's words, and about writing and witnessing, but "a good discourse" wasn't one of them. Now we faced a decision. Change the name or own the error.

Thus the name stuck, but with proper attribution and thanks to Erin Arlinghaus for the research! What will our conference cover? 1) The Call to Universal Witness (there is no off time). 2) Fraternal Correction (what it is and isn't)

3) Gossip/Slander/Calumny 4) Strategies for Talking about Hard Stuff (panel). 5) Humility: How to be a light put on a pedestal and yet humble. 6) Humor 7) Community, remembering always our audience.

The Conference "A Good Discourse," isn't a traditional writers' conference. We won't be discussing pitches or formats or how to improve your writing as a craft or 1,000 writing prompts for when the well runs dry. We will be (hopefully), preparing writers' hearts for the ministry of writing itself.

Think of it as a retreat for writers who are Catholic about being Catholic first, last and always, with the written and spoken word. It means being couragous --when you say something that is hard, it means being willing to bear the cost, it means being humble, when you've said something wrong, it means being truthful, but always with charity. These are hard things, and all of us have memories of when we've done this poorly, and all of us know, when we've done well, it wasn't us, but the Holy Spirit that worked through us.

The goal of this conference, is to see faces, to help foster fellowship and prayer across the spectrum of Catholic writers in all things. Hoping you'll join us at the conference. (It's virtual and it's free). Here's where you can find out more: https://agooddiscourse.wixsite.com/mysite

What to Do?

There's an issue when you write things for publication.  Read the comments.  Don't read the comments.  I have learned, no matter how hard I try, if I read the comments, my ego shall be bruised.  My brain will be frustrated, and my writer's heart will want to try and write again to explain whatever it is. 

However ignoring what is written means I don't learn what I need to know to grow as a writer. 

It's a quandry, because when you look at comments, sometimes you don't know where to begin or how.   What you wrote, isn't received in the spirit in which it is given, and there are as many arm chair editors as there are legitimate discussions being raised as a result of an article as there are arguments over interpretations.  It's overwhelming and I'm not sure how to manage it.  I know the first rule, don't go into the com boxes. 

It's the second rule I don't know.  When to respond possibly with a column and when to let it go. 

First Impressions

When I first saw my future husband across a crowded room at a Notre Dame Freshman mixer, I decided not to introduce myself. He was too serious. Glancing at my outfit, which I thought I projected cool (Actually, it screamed stuck-in-the-early-eighties, saw-and-liked-Xanadu) he thought to himself, “Look at that girl in the silly hat. Bet she’s pretty superficial.”

We were both right.

In graduate school, my advisor called me into his office to discuss the beginning of my program.

“You’re from Texas.” He said, looking at my papers.

“Yes.”

“Well, I heard all the women down there are beautiful and tall. What happened to you?”

I stood up as tall as my five foot two inches would allow and said, “Well that’s true. Down in Texas I’m pretty average, but up here in Boston, I’m stunning.”

I became his assistant. In retrospect, I'm not sure it was a reward.

Meeting my future father-in-law for the first time, my luggage had made the decision to spend the evening at O’Hare. I had to beg and borrow from girls in my dorm to put together an outfit that did not smell like a three hour bus ride. One friend offered to do my hair and gave me sideburns that matched hers and three inch high curled bangs. I’m still recovering.

Interviewing in New York City for a teaching position, there was a carnival going on that day on the playground. The person scheduled to paint faces had not shown and I had just finished talking with the vice principal. For the next two hours, my fingers were covered in grease paint and cold cream. The principal came by the school grounds to put in an appearance. “Who’s that over there?” he asked the vice principal.

I got the job.

When we moved to Maryland, it was the dead of winter and the roads were coated with ice and the grey snow that always grips February. Alone in our rented townhome, I spied a woman walking with a child close to my then one year old son’s age. They were just following the sidewalk. Running out onto the snow barefoot, desperate to make a connection with someone in the area, I must have been a frighteningly mad sight as I screamed. “Hey! Hello! I’d like to meet you!”

We became friends despite that rough intro.

And speaking of introductions....

Hi. My name is Sherry Antonetti and I’m a freelance writer.

While my background is special education and English literature, I currently stay home and help shepherd our eight children through their various stages of development. I also write. Why? It provides my offspring with an edited version of their childhood that is as honest as those multi-hued elegantly pasted scrapbooks. These stories are mythic in that they reveal truth without being completely factual.

It is also loads of fun for me.

Pass the fuchsia curly cue scissors please.

Thank you for considering my voice amongst a sea of bloggers and I hope I made you laugh.