Agonies of a Young Author

(off key) On the rooooad again! Something something music and my friends, so I can't wait to get on the road again! (don't be jealous of my fabulous voice. It's okay, I know you want it.)
I"M AT THE SDSU WRITERS CONFERENCE IN SAN DIEGO!!! WHOOOO!

There are a lot of interesing YA panels, which makes me happy. And I'm looking forward to the two keynote speakers, James Scott Bell and Robert Walter. I am NOT looking forward to the keynote speech times. Why 8:30 am? JUST WHY?!? *faceplant*

But I shall suffer gracefully. Because there is free hotel breakfast. Also, martyrs go down in history. Gotta make a name for myself. Or, say, live up to the title of this blog. You know. Either or.

So I will be back with my adventures (or misadventures) on Monday. Let's hope the coffee stays in my cup and the ink on the paper. I brought nice clothes for this weekend, and I wanna keep them that way.

On the other hand, I am literally across the road from a mall. I can see Macy's from my balconey. There may be something to be said in favor of certain kinds of carnage. =)

Write Now:
What I'm listening to: freeway noises. Never let it be said that CA was a public transit state.
What I want most: mmmm, there's also a Barnes and Nobles across the parking lot... heh. heh.

The first day I was a skittish, chapped lip mess.

The second day I spent entirely turned to the right, presenting only my profile to the speakers, even if I asked a question, because I went swimming the night before and had a clogged left ear I couldn't hear out of.

By the third day, I had caffeine overdose headaches (I HATE 8 am mornings, and this was my sixth in a row) and spent the entire class hour playing the 30 second Bejeweled demo on my phone over and over again on because I was just. that. damn. desperate. (pencil-cum-stylus in one hand and one hand clutching the handle of a coffee cup).

I love conferences, but I love leaving conference just as much. What starts out as an adventure buoyed by spastic adrenaline degenerates into the stupid-stubborn persistence of a wild-eyed animal backed into a corner-- twitching, growling, trembling, bristling, and rolling eyes with the whites showing.

Information overload is dangerous. Being brain-fried can be hazardous to others. General surgeon's warning: Avoid writers at closing ceremonies. They bite.

Now, I need time to process.

And get that finger away from me! If you don't, I'll...

*chomp, chomp, chomp*

(blink, blink) Whoops.

Write now:
What I'm listening to: Ouran High School Host Club anime (it's research. no, really, it's research)
What I want most: to got to bed. It's 8 pm. I'm pathetic.

I admit it-- I'm an elitist misanthrope. And nothing makes me hiss and spit with ruffled fur faster than other writers.

I'm not sure why writers as a particular breed can drive me crazier than a young kid on caffeine (with a puppy), but every conference I realize this.

Disclaimer: Writers are fascinating individuals, but get hundreds of them in limited square footage and those intriguing quirks turn into rage-inducing tics.

I both love and hate writer's conferences.

I'm the kind of girl who hugs that shadows in the back corner of the presentation room, claiming the same seat panel after panel. I listen, take notes, and write. I'm not particularly interested in promoting myself, and only somewhat in talking to people. I'm really bad at talking to people. Two or three will stand out, and I will consider approaching them. Maybe. If the right opportunity comes. If they are alone and bored, and if they casually catch my eye and seem willing to chat.

I'm not particularly shy, I just think that sometimes

I'm totally shy, in the sense that I don't like putting myself out there. I'm more reserved than inhibited, but either way, it means that I'm pretty quiet. I will talk to people, it's just hard to do.

I asked for the business card of one of the panel presenters today. This is a. big. concession. I also asked a question in a Q&A, talked to an editor at breakfast, exchanged business cards with another Y.A. writer, talked throughout the entire luncheon with both an older gentleman and an alum from my college, and asked questions after two classes.

Whew. So I have come out of today with two/three people to email and try keep in touch with. Eep!! o_0

However, insightful self-reflection can't erase my elitist tendencies.

I mean, people, you're writers. You CAN'T possibly think that you pronounce it JOHN-ruh. Genre, people, genre.

*snort* Writers. You love to hate them.

Write now:
What I'm listening to: Cell in the Sea by A Fine Frenzy
What I want most: an agent. lol.

My lips were chapped and burningly propelled me through the conference in search of relief. I also had coffee breath, and tried to avoid any contact within five feet of other attendees. For their own benefit.

So dry-lipped and sleep deprived, I navigated my way through maze-like hotel corridors and past clumps of women waiting for the restroom into ballroom- cum -classroom after classroom.

First on the agenda, travel writing. Informative, and thought-provoking after my finals-caused Serengeti of a brain. A few good tips, lengthy notes, a resource to follow up on, and the idea that full time travel writing might just be the career to pursue. Because, hello, who wouldn't want to get paid to travel?

Next, character motivation. At first I was hesitant, thinking "I know my characters!" but it was a good decision. First, the speaker was HILARIOUS. The entire class was in stiches the entire hour. And she used examples from the audience's WIP to illustrate her points, which I thought was a genius move. And I came away with a few little a-ha! moments about my WIP that will really help develop it.

Then lunch on our own, and my antics as I got lost in the north, south, and east directions before finally figuring out that I needed to go west to get to the grocery store. And my explorations of an industrial town set smack dab in the middle of Amish country. Rolling hills, red barns and cute white farmhourses, then a power plant and a paper factory. Very interesting place.

Then back to the conference for a conflict panel, which had to be one of the best classes I've ever had. Again, the classes are never about large neon sign secrets saying "Follow this and you will be published!!!!!!" but little epiphanies that allows you to salt in the memorable details. After this class, I really understand how to actually follow through with conflict and tension, rather than just creating one more dangerous situation after another. Really great class, and the speaker was really good. Tim Esaias teashes at Seton Hill, and I admit, it's kind of tempting to check into the MFA program there because of him.

Then a class on YA writing, with two realizations. One, I do really like YA, and it's what I truly want to pursue (not solely, but seriously). And two, a published author does not a good teacher make. And vice versa.

Then I went back to the room, and thinking about the stuff that Tim Esaias said about conflict, wrote what is probably one of my best scenes and probably will end up as part of the climax in my WIP. WAHOO!!! I'm really excited what today's strageties can help me do.

Well, actually, not straight back to the room. There might or might not have been a detor to the local (amazing!) mall to go buy a swimsuit so I could take advantage of my pool-side hotel room. But then, I admit nothing.

 Write Now:
What I'm listening to:the TV-- Criminal Minds reruns! Wahoo!
What I wnt most: my room service to get here. Hazelnut encrusted salmon with raspberry glaze. YUM!

Conference Part Two:

It's a special Saturday post, mainly because I dislike the symmetry of posting this on Monday. It ruins my schedule worse than a Saturday post does.

Well, my neck is NOT better. It fact, last night was probably the WORST night sleep I have ever gotten. And that, Gentle Readers, is SAYING SOMETHING.

Therefore, I made the executive decision to miss the meet & greet coffee, mainly because I'm not at the networking stage in my career and somewhat because I am picky about my coffee. I also missed the keynote speaker, because I heard him the night before. But this time, I knew exactly where I was going, so I drove to the parking lot in front of the exact building and went straight to the conference.

Of course, this is me, so the workshop was not in the main building, but in another, and I was graciously escorted to my workshop door. Late.

But someone walked in right before me, so maybe I blended into the "Delinquent Poet" crowd.

In any case, the workshop leader was stellar. I would be them when I grow up, except it was a man, and I heard those are hard to raise.

But Temple Cone... so funny. He teaches poetry at a military base... I have no clue how you manage that one, but I'm thinking about studying abroad in Annapolis now. Heh, heh.

The first session was good, with small nuggets and semi-precious stones, but the second workshop... the second workshop. I have ideas spewing out of my ears right about now.

A bonus! In honor of the special Saturday post. The humble poem that I came up with as a variation poem on W.C. Williams' "This is Just to Say":

"Sisters: Variations on Variations on Williams and Koch"


I took your new black Gucci dress
without asking


Forgive me
but I needed something to wear
on my date 

with your boyfriend.

And with that, enjoy the rest of your weekend!

Right now:
What I'm listening to: Beatropolis Radio on Pandora
What I want most: no more neck pain! no more neck pain!

Conference, Part One:

It was a series of unfortunate events. Our heroine, sweet and lovely, went to bed unaware of her coming trials and tribulations. Little did she know the horrors waiting for her on the morn...

First, I already had a cold, so I slept later than I wanted to. Not overslept, mind (I did say wanted to, rather than intended to)... just later than I wanted to. Then, because of the cold and the fact that I couldn't breathe, I must have slept at some weird angle, because when I was blow-drying my hair, I flipped my head back and gave myself whiplash.

Crunch! 

Me: ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh shit.

I wretched my neck and almost passed out from the pain. I thought I broke my neck, the crunching noise was so... crunchy. And the charley-horse agony sent my to my knees-- literally. I spent the next twenty minutes on the floor, trying not to vomit and trying to massage out my poor abused muscles without manipulating the fragments of my spine into my blood stream or anyplace else they should not be. I discovered that it was a BAD. IDEA to move my head to the left at all... and had to learn how to do a whole lot of things stiff as a board.

Then I picked up my business cards, a ray of light in what I already knew to to be a grey, drizzly, dismal, hair-frizzing day. I knew, because I looked out the window, and felt the drops of water on my face as I walked outside. And from my first glance in a reflective window. But not to my left, obviously.

Then, I got lost. Well, not lost, because I had a GPS system in my lovely Rosie car, but rather lost because I had the wrong address. Or rather, the conference website had the wrong address. So thanks to the Maternal Figure, who dealt with a rather panicked phone call and troubleshooted my way out of po-dunk and into the university (I was literally at a barn.)

Then I was at the university... but not at the conference. So I traipsed my way from one end of campus to the other, asking knowledgeable and not-so-knowledgeable students where the conference was? Alright then, what about and info desk? No? What about an administrator? ... Do you actually go to school here?!?...  You know, that guy over there has a walkie-talkie. Let me go ask him. No, really, thanks for the help.

Finally, finally, I arrived at the building where I was supposed to be... but no conference.

Why, God, whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?!?

Thankfully, it was only around a corner (oh dear lord thank you) and I got registered and ushered in only ten minutes late. Apparently, they were having some technical difficulties of their own, so I lucked out.

And the day went uphill from there... except for my neck, and the fact that I couldn't turn my head, and really should NOT have been driving. There may or not have been frustrated and self-pitying tears in the car on the way home out of sheer misery- I might have stayed too long in one position, even though I tried to get up and stretch (well, not stretch, since I couldn't move, but just... ease the tension a little). Eventually, I bailed out early...sadly, but not too sadly, because I was/am miserable. Hence, the 5th amendment tears.

The conference itself was okay/good. The speaker that I particularly went for didn't address the topics that I was hoping for, but rather glossed over them. Still, I got some of the answers I was looking for in a roundabout way, so I guess I break even.

And I got to hand out a business card! Used it on the first day-- how's that for a profit return!

So, we'll see how tomorrow goes. Hopefully the neck will be better. And I look forward to the workshops.

Right Now:
What I'm listening to: Nothing.
What I want most: no more neck pain! no more neck pain!










 

My default conference position is black.

I did laundry in anticipation for tomorrow's conference, and found myself reaching for my "professional Young Author" outfit- black coat, black embellished tee, dark wash jeans, black pointy toed suede ankle boots. If I were sixty years older with a wart on my nose, I would resemble a witch. Maybe I still do, in the Sabrina the Teenage witch way, or the Sandra Bullock in Practical Magic way.

In any case, I wear black to be "professional chic." Always have, always do, always will. I may overshoot a little, but at least when I go, I can feel confident about my wardrobe.

Now, if I could just maybe to be confident about my writing...

Right now:
What I'm listening to: I might or might not be talking to myself. Maybe. Possibly. It might have to do with conference to-do lists. Or not.
What I want most: More black shoes. And black blouses. Preferably silk.

I like hotels the same way I like big cities.

It always comforts me to be in the pulse of a city, because even at night, when you look outside the window, you see at least one hundred other windows lit up from within. In a city, there is always a light on.
Hotels operate on the same principle, although here I deviate from the light cliché. In a hotel, there is always some noise surrounding you. Usuaaly a shower, sometimes the elevator, or occasionally the vending machine, interspersed with a toilet flushing or someone climbing the stairs. A hotel always has activity of some sort, even if it is a quiet sleepy sort. Someone arriving late, someone leaving early, the two actions merging into one pre-dawn rhythm. Someone just turning in for the night, or someone heading out for the day. Always full of activity.
MlleDiabolique and I are the hotel, the night before my writing conference. She is staying behind to do homework, as I venture off into the world of workshops and panel discussions. My brain is whirling with insecurities, but the familiar patterns of a hotel are lulling me to sleep. I have a big weekend coming up, so goodnight all.

Right now:
What I'm listening to: Hotel Sounds
What I want most: ... who knows?

Conference! Conference! Conference! I wanna go to a conference!

Ah! I discovered a writing conference just a bare 3 hours from my campus, and I'm so excited. I wanna go to a conference!

The keynote speaker for the F. Scott Fitzgerald Literary Conference is Azar Nafisi, author of Reading Lolita in Tehran! And listen to this: Pulitzer-prize winner Henry Allen will moderate a panel discussion on Literary Border Crossings. The afternoon panel will include authors H.G. Carrillo (Loosing my Espanish) and Olga Grushin (The Dream Life of Sukhanov).

SO excited!

And there are two workshop sessions available! One in the morning, one in the afternoon. I'm thinking that I'll do Short Story Style and Writing the Novel.

Ah, so excited!

Well, off to do some research/ sign up/ convince the parentals that I should go!

Right now:
What I am listening to: n/a- too excited!
What I want most: to go to the writing conference!