Last month, it happened. It had been a busy week. See, our local chapter was hosting it's conference, and I was helping. My husband was singing the "Are you going out again" song, and my five-year-old was echoing his own refrain of "Mommy, don't leave me." But, a sister chapter of RWA was having a speaker on Forensic Handwriting. Huh? Forensic Handwriting? Too cool. And, just what a writer of suspense gravitates to.
Probably, in the last five years, this workshop rates as number two (the first was a workshop that had a mock crime scene). It was awesome. The speaker had a sample of Ted Bundy's handwriting and went over what it showed. She talked a little about handwriting specialists were brought in for the Michael Jackson and lately Baby Gabrial case. Me, I'm rivoted.
I learned from my letter I's (according to the handwriting specialist) that I had a healthy relationship with my mother, and that there was some unfinished business with my father. But, the unfinished business is probably okay because he's not been gone too long and I'm still saying goodbye. I learned from my letter y's that I'm in a healthy relationship. hehehehehe. Yes, I came home and made my husband write his y's.
Fun, fun, fun.