There’s Chocolate in My Bucket

The other day, a post came through my social media feed from Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference, which I attend regularly. It was a graphic with a question: “What’s on your Blue Ridge Conference Bucket List?”

Most people would answer that question, obviously, with things related to a writing career: signing a book contract, getting an agent, landing a challenging writing assignment. We all have dreams we carry with us to such an event. Those things are well and good, but there’s something different at the top of my Blue Ridge Bucket List.

I just want some Blue Ridge chocolate macaroons.

If you’ve ever been to the conference, you know what I’m talking about. Once during the week, when you least expect it, there are little bits of Heaven in the dessert line. They’re like a cross between a fudgy brownie, a cookie, a Mounds bar, and manna. My mouth is watering as I write this post. We “macaroon veterans” stalk the food line at every meal, every day, in anticipation of scoring some of these tasty treats, and we will stop at nothing to get what we want.

Last year we made it to lunch on Wednesday (the next-to-last-day) with no macaroons in sight. Honestly, I was getting nervous. That day I sat down to eat with my friends Cynthia and Dwayne Lovely and a new friend, Connie Clyburn. The conversation was easy and fun as we chatted and laughed about anything and everything. Then it happened.

Toward the end of the allotted meal time, a lady approached our table, lunch tray in tow. She had been delayed at an appointment and asked if she could sit with us. We were happy to oblige, and imagine our surprise when we looked at her tray and saw . . . BLUE RIDGE CHOCOLATE MACAROONS!

“Where did you get those?” The intensity in our eyes was evident.

“They just put them out on the dessert line.” She looked a bit bewildered at our obvious passion for the cookies.

(Notice those dialogue beats. Yes, I actually pay attention in class between meal times.)

Connie, Cynthia, and I took off like we were on fire; it’s been years since I have moved that fast. We entered the food service area—through the exit, no less—and spotted one of the workers.

“Where are the MACAROONS?”

The lady looked a bit scared as she pointed them out. We each filled our plates with a generous serving and returned to our table, proud of our conquest. We are hip, modern writers, so we pulled out our phones and took pictures of our macaroon bounty.

You can take this post as a cautionary tale—if you attend the Blue Ridge conference, stay out of our way when you see the macaroons on the dessert line, and no one will get hurt.

Or you can take this story as a lesson about writers conferences—these events are about more than writing. The friends, fun, and fellowship are just as, if not more, important.

And the food. The glorious food.