Back from the Conference

I’m back from the RWA National Conference and feeling like I’ve caught up a bit on sleep! I made a few notes while I was there, during the odd moments of quiet that I carved out of the seeming chaos around me. I’ve cleaned them up a bit (got rid of the present tense for starters) and added to them. I thought I’d share some of my impressions of my first Nationals.

I was a bit…concerned…before I got to the hotel that the conference would be one giant rah-rah event. I’ve been to far too many corporate all-hands meetings, I think, and I’d read/heard too many glowing recommendations and reviews of previous conferences. I was pleasantly surprised to find that there was great energy from all present, but not so over-the-top that I wanted to roll my eyes and wish I were somewhere else. It was a professional meeting, combined with socializing and networking and workshops galore–as well as enough congratulations and encouragement to be inspiring.

I know myself well enough to know that going to this conference was putting me outside my comfort level. First, because I’m so new at all of this (this being the business of publishing and the craft of writing) and I am unpublished. Second, because I’m an introvert who is generally more comfortable with being the outside observer than the intimate participant. I’m generally much more energized in small groups or alone than I am in a huge group, such as Nationals. I wondered if I’d be able to keep up my end of the equation–mixing with others in a positive way–but I did okay. I deliberately wore my “first timer” ribbon knowing full well that it would be noticed, rather than flying under the radar and pretending it was all old hat. It did get noticed and I talked to people (usually in response to their asking how I was doing). I’m still not good at initiating conversations, but I’m working on it.

I found the dynamic at the conference interesting. With the exception of those on the NYT list and other multi-published authors who haven’t quite hit the bestseller lists, it felt like we were all on a quest for the same thing: the magic elixir that would turn us into bestselling published authors. But the truth is, there is no such thing. At least, it won’t be found in craft workshops or career talks or in any of the other workshops offered at the conference. That’s because it can only be found inside ourselves.

The workshops were still valuable in other ways. Some reinforced what I already knew. Others clarified some things that I still found murky. And still others (SEP and JAK, I’m looking at you) were simply inspirational. If nothing else, the conference solidified my understanding of one final truth–the only thing standing in my way is me.

Writers are a peculiar bunch; romance writers no less so (and I include myself in this). I saw and met all kinds at the convention–beginners and famous pros, friendly and not so, intelligent and thoughtful as well as silly and ridiculous. The hardest thing for me was knowing what to say when asked what I write. There was a part of me that feared that I’m a poser–a fake who’d be pointed out the moment I opened my mouth. I tripped over my tongue and mixed up my words more times than not. (I’m not sure why — I’m always so eloquent in my own head.) So I mentioned what I’m working on at the moment, a mystery that’s more cozy than suspense, but that has a romantic element to it. Whether or not this is the genre where I truly fit, I said, only time will tell.

I didn’t mention the romantic suspense novel that I’ve plotted about 2/3rds of the way through. Nor the fantasy that I’ve been re-working in my head for the last three years. Nor the 1930s pre-WWII fantasy with an American soldier as the hero that takes place in Asia (oh, yeah, there’s a huge market for that one. uh-huh).

Somehow I got off on a tangent, didn’t I? Oh, right, the conference. The nice part about staying in the hotel where the conference was held was being able to go up to my room when I needed to catch my breath, or just catch some quiet. Still, with all the chaos and all the strangers and all the energy, it was an amazing experience I won’t soon forget. Next time, I’ll have different goals. And yes, I do intend for there to be a next time.