Nothing is quite so rife with urban legend as a conference. When you think of a conference, for any line of work, you think of wild nights in bars, tête à tête amoureux in dark corners and deserted meeting rooms, and scandals galore.
If you think of these things you've obviously never gone to a conference with moi! #:0) I know there was partying in the bars until all hours, I heard all about it. I understand there was at least one scandal and probably many more that I didn't hear about. And amorous fumblings in dark corners? Come on! It was a romance convention! We consider that research!
Seriously though, these conferences are great fun for everyone involved, but there's always a lot of stress too. Authors putting their work and egos on the line pitching to agents and publishers, reclusive writers interacting with effusive fans, shy readers reaching out to favorite writers, business connections made and nurtured, and remote, faceless rejection brought brutally forward, leaving the rejected no place to hide and the rejectee feeling horrible for causing such obvious pain.
We attended workshops and learned how to be better writers, researchers, and catalogers of the human condition. We met people who could help us advance in our careers, people who already have, and people who we could just laugh and share experiences with. We danced, ate, drank, laughed, and ogled hot, young men.
For five, short days we lived in the moment, prepared for the future, and reconsidered the past. We embraced the joy, lamented our mistakes, and reached toward the changes to come.
In short, we immersed ourselves in the trappings and design of our craft. We were writers, readers, publishers, agents, models, and promotional gurus. We became our passions, embraced our strengths, and faced our weaknesses so we could overcome them.
But most importantly, we gained full appreciation of our chosen careers and grew exponentially as people...and WE LOVED EVERY DANG MINUTE OF IT!
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