I absolutely love the process of putting on events like the Big Bash this Thursday. Something in me just gets giddy at being the catalyst for this kind of thing.
Until the last one or two weeks before the event. Then either valium or alcohol are needed to calm jittery Gill.
I've been doing this stuff for more than 15 years and it never changes. I suppose it's the risk/reward of it all -- if I pull off a great event I get major pats on the back, but if the whole thing crashes and burns not only my bank account but my reputation will suffer.
Interestingly, not once in my entire life have I failed to pull off at least an adequate event. Sure, some are better than others, but all have been well-received.
Even now as I write the third book in the Stalking Tigers series -- the one on psychology -- I'm struggling to put words to this love-hate syndrome I experience.
No real point, I guess. Just sharing my worlds -- both outside and inside my head -- a bit.