By Leslie Lindsay Last evening, I took my writing to the library critique group.  I have been going and sharing my work with this bunch of writers for about two years now.  I know most of the folks pretty well, even though it’s not an inclusive group–it’s constantly changing, as all good groups do. These writers are very familiar with the current story–well, novel–I am working on.  It’s title, “Slippery Slope.”  It wasn’t really intended to turn into a novel.  Heck, I never saw myself as a novelist…it sounds so fancy and grown-up.  But I knew I wanted to write.  There is a point of all of this:  I got some good feedback.  I got some ideas for revision.  I got some new thoughts, too.  Thank you, fellow writers.  But here is one thing I wasn’t expecting to hear:  “Oh my!  It sounds like you are really having an affair!”  Helllooo!!  My character is.  Emphasis on character. It’s an emotional affair at this point, but I think that still counts, huh?  (and no, I am not having …