Writing Conference Debriefing

A couple of weeks ago, I attended my second writing conference, and I promised I would process that experience here.  I'm going to walk through some lessons I've learned and offer advice based on my very limited experience.

Conferences have cultures.

It probably shouldn't have come as a surprise to me that writing conferences could have such different feels to them, but it did.  It probably stood out because both conferences were SCBWI regional events and within the same general geographic region.  The first conference I attended a year ago was a full weekend event, including two nights, which afforded a significant amount of time for socializing.  I interacted with agents and editors in that informal environment, and I even made friends in the process.  However, I might argue that the sessions were also looser as a result, with less emphasis on the information and more on the networking.  The second conference was very much the opposite. The schedule was packed. If I hadn't been meeting up with a friend from the previous conference, I don't know that I would have talked with anyone there.  However, the sessions were stronger, and I felt like I learned more throughout the one day than I had in the entire weekend the year before.

When losing is winning

For the past couple of weeks, I'd set the alarm at five to push through as many words as possible in hopes of once again successfully completing NaNoWriMo. I'd looked forward to receiving that "winner" badge all year, and I'd known what novel I'd write for ages.  My daughter had been begging for a sequel to last year's Nano Project.  All was going well.  Technically, it still is.  I may not have been 100%  happy with my plot, but I was on target to "win" a week early.  This was a huge accomplishment in and of itself because I hadn't been writing much, and I was pleased I could still produce something ... anything.  Plus, I found new ideas crept in when I wasn't looking, and I drafted another "Potential Projects" list.

Then, I went to an SCBWI-IL event, Prairie Writer's Day, and I had a wonderful experience which is going to make me a loser.  I sat through two sessions where first pages were read and editors/agents reacted.  I was fortunate enough to receive honest and useful feedback from Molly O'Neill and Stacey Barney. During another insightful session Ms. O'Neill read pages from some of the work she's edited and then followed up by reading from first drafts which authors were willing to share.  Suddenly, a lightbulb went on, and I knew what I had to do with both of my completed projects, including the one I claimed I was about to trunk--and it involves a re-write. I knew it was coming; I just didn't have a vision.  Until now.

So, I've decided to put my 25K+ Nano words aside in an effort to capitalize on my motivation and capture the flowing ideas on paper. 

Have I mentioned I'm competitive?  I don't like failing Nano.  But at the same time, I know that this is absolutely a winning situation.  So, I accept my Loser Trophy with pride as I set my sites on a new goal. 

Sometimes changing course mid-stream is the best thing to do.  Any experiences where changing goals worked out in your favor?  College major?  Career?

The Time of Your Life

Time is what we want most, but... what we use worst.  ~William Penn

I am completely stealing this week’s blog from my fellow writer and motivational partner, Tia. She wrote a great piece about the value of time. I admit that I am a little obsessed with time—just ask my kids how often they hear, “Hurry up, we’re going to be late,” even though we pretty much never are.  

On the first day of public speaking every semester, I ask students who the best and worst speakers they ever saw were, and I put a list of characteristics up on the board.  I never name names on my worst, but I tell them the worst thing you can do when speaking to me is waste my time. I cannot stand when people read me a handout, for example, when I could just as easily read it myself.

That isn’t to say I don’t throw away plenty of hours even in a single day, but such a priceless commodity commands more respect. Sometimes, I even wonder about the value of my writing time. If I didn’t write, I’d have more time, for sure, but how would I spend the “extra” time if not writing? Of course, perception matters.  Another person could perceive everything I do to be a waste of time and vice versa.