Well, here I sit on break from my very first writing conference. A surreal experience to say the least.
After working up a vigorous lather of panic and caffeine this morning, I arrived at the Spring Fling conference muttering my 60-second pitch to myself and trying not to puke.
Much ado about nothing, like most panic. There will be no hallway pitching for me at this conference. At least, I doubt it. I would not be able to pick out the agents/editors from the sea of faces in these conference rooms, even if they were present (which I’m not sure they are.) So short of devising some ancient sit-com plan to be smuggled into someone’s room under a room service cart, I will not be pitching today.
Which is a bit of a relief, but I think I could do with going through my pitch a couple times before my meeting tomorrow.
Here’s the story so far:
- I got a swag bag. Who knew? Three novels, a usb flash drive, oatmeal cookies, a pen and a binder at first peek.
- I’ve spent the breaks sitting by myself in the hotel lobby, trying to remember my pitch.
- The Q & A with Authors panel was hysterical. Debbie Macomber is a hoot. So were the other panelists, Eloisa James and Christie Ridgway, for that matter. I enjoyed it immensely, even though a lot of the discussion was naturally Romance-focused (this is a RWA conference, after all)
- I chatted with a woman before one of the lectures who has turned out to be Susan Rae, author of Heartbeats, a romantic suspense novel about a pediatric cardiologist and an FBI agent. She’s currently writing the sequel. She asked what mine was about and I stumbled through my “hook” sentence feeling like a dork.
- I’m eating dinner by myself at McDonalds, cuz the “optional pizza dinner” required pre-registration, even though it didn’t say so on the website.
- My agent appointment tomorrow is for “3:07” which makes me wonder how long I have for the meeting.
More later as it unfolds. I must now brave the construction on Lake Cook Road to get back for the next workshop.