I have to admit to being nervous about the Philadelphia Writers’ Conference. It’s the first conference I’ve ever been to, so I didn’t really know what to expect. Plus, I planned to pitch to an agent there, so I carried the knots in my stomach until my appointment time!
Day 1 of the conference was great. In a highly inspirational opening speech, author Solomon Jones stressed the idea that words matter by sharing how writing literally saved him from a life of addiction and homelessness.
The 3-day workshops have been equally informative. There is a little something for everyone: Memoirs, Poetry, Flash Fiction, Nonfiction, Romance Novels, Contemporary Short Stories, Screen/Play Writing, Novel, and YA.
I have heard good things about most of the 3-day workshops, but I have only experienced 3 of them myself. In Novel: Plot, author Kelly Simmons explored a non-outlining way of approaching plot – her list of 7 Cs: Combustion, Coordination, Conflict, Character, Conclusion, Completion, and Commitment.
In Novel: Character, author Gregory Frost explored what it takes to create compelling characters. Today we talked about the importance of “telling details” to show what the character is like instead of reverting to intrusive author explanation.
I had to leave in the middle of Greg’s class to go to my agent pitch. My nerves almost got the better of me while I was waiting, but once I met the engaging and enthusiastic Sarah Yake of Frances Collin Agency, my fear vanished. I count that as a successful pitch, especially for my first time pitching!
Then it was on to the YA workshop, where author Catherine Stine spoke about the different levels of children’s literature from picture books through upper YA, and how writing for those markets differs from writing for adults.
Finally, I took one of the single-day workshops: Jennifer Holbrook-Talty’s Perfect Pitch/Query. She pounded this cardinal rule into our heads: Who is your protagonist, what do they want, and why can’t they have it? This is the beginning of every successful pitch of any length.
The one-day workshops also cover a wide variety of topics: Pitch/Query; Libel, Privacy & Censorship; Writing for New Media/Webisodes; How to Get Your Own Column; Beating Writer’s Block; Op-Ed; Marketing Your Work; 13 Tips and Tricks; and a Closing Panel – Publisher’s Insider View.
My head is spinning with so much information, but I can’t wait for Day 2 and 3!
Change Is Good, Right?
First off, Happy St. Patrick’s Day to my fellow Irishmen and to all those who wish you were!
Second, my Act Like a Writer workshop ended last week, and I have had some time to think about the things we’ve learned. One of the biggest things about the workshop was facing your fears. Honestly, if you step back, what’s the worst that can happen if you flub a pitch or a panel or a reading? Dreadful embarrassment, most likely, and that has never killed anyone.
Even though our logical mind tells us this, fear is not logical. We spoke about our fears in the workshop, and they were familiar. Fear of babbling or stammering or not being able to speak at all. Fear of fainting or throwing up or falling down. Fear of embarrassment or insulting someone or provoking a confrontation. Fear of looking like a fool.
All of the above are very real fears. I share all of them, as do most people. They all stem from that little voice instructor Keith Strunk talked about, the one that whispers to us, “You’re nothing special. You’re not good enough. Just who do you think you are? Why should anyone listen to anything you have to say?”
I’ve heard that voice. We all have. But those fears, prompted by that voice, are not the fears that paralyze me. Face it, you don’t reach (mumble, mumble) years of age without having actually had many of those fears manifest themselves. Although those incidents were deeply uncomfortable, I’m still here. They didn’t kill me.
So what is scaring me so much?
You see, I also hear another voice, different than the “you’re not good enough” voice. (Did I mention that, as a writer, you are allowed to have voices in your head and still be called sane?) This other voice whispers, “But if you succeed, everything will change.”
Ahh, there’s the rub. Change and I, not good friends. I like my routines. Having a baby has made me a lot more flexible, but still…I like my life. If I get an agent, and we sell the book, everything changes. I go from being able to stop writing to play with my daughter to having to tell her occasionally that Mommy can’t play with her now. I go from being able to schedule my life around my family to adding in deadlines and crises (in business there are always crises—I remember that distinctly).
More than that, I go from being able write in comfortable anonymity to having to be public author persona. To have readings and signings and be on panels and do interviews, and all of those things that are so far out of my comfort zone that I can’t even see them from my spot here on the couch. What sort of an idiot deliberately places herself in situations she equates with being in front of a firing squad?
Apparently…me.
Because I want this. I want my work out there. And this is what it takes to be an author in today’s world.
I can do it, too. Act Like A Writer showed me that not only could I do it, I could do it well. And if I continue to work hard at it, someday it may even be fun.