I attended the conference this past weekend and learned many pearls of wisdom from the professionals that exist in this industry to keep us chained to our computers and experiencing over 200 rejection letters...but I digress.
The layout was great, 1-hour lecture then 15-minute break. Good snacks, pop, breakfast (for those of us who can't fathom getting up early on the weekend. ugh) a decent lunch (but everything was absolutely slathered in mayonnaise. GROSS. I went vegetarian for the weekend and even THAT sandwich was dripping in mayo. ew.)
I attended workshops by Lily Gontard on how to maximize diction for powerful stories, Howard on how you are basically supposed to pester (nicely) an editor with whom you have sent a submission. Paula Eykelhof, about how the Harlequin empire works and basic submission do's and don't's. I loved this one, Kathleen Scheibling on the archetype of the cowboy and trends in TV and film. She misses jPod too.
The workshops were great. My one quibble with the conference was the dynamics. It was designed to be a open free-for-all of writers sharing ideas, and as a newcomer who isn't totally comfortable just plunking herself down at a table for people who are ignoring her, I was left a little cold.
The weird part? I even know someone who was at the conference and we chatted in the beginning. But then, even when I was sitting alone at a table, this person didn't stop to say hi, or even acknowledge me. Eh, I found it a little rude and I mean, I know you are popular with the Sci-fi group or the Romance group but couldn't you spare one hot little minute to be nice? Guess not.
Things really turned around the 2nd day, I met up with some fellow nonfiction writers and a great time was had by all! (The ugly-kid-alone-in-highschool feeling finally left. phew!)
One irksome moment: Sitting at a table, with two chairs on either side of me at a lecture. Young man sits on my right, puts his girlfriend's purse on my left. Girlfriend arrives, late. Proceeds to whisper, write notes and pass them to boyfriend, text on cellphone and pass said cellphone to boyfriend, stare at me, stare at the notes I am making, whisper about leaving early for lunch, and proceed to leave early to nab the best lunch tables and sit with the 'popular' group, the sci-fi'ers.
I don't know about them, but I paid GOOD MONEY for this conference. I wanted to hear the lecture. If you don't want to attend, get the fuck out.
I was very offended. I was sitting there minding my own business and feeling like a Victorian guardian, protecting the honour of the little slugs sitting one either side of me, unwillingly. It was the height of rudeness and the presenter was very, very accomplished in her field, and these asshats were doing everything possible to be disruptive.
Ha, and in another lecture they sat ahead of me, practically on each others' pudgy laps. I saw the girl reach over and grab her boyfriend's hand and place it on her lap. ugh.
Oh and something that struck me as hilarious, during lunch we selected food on a buffet-style, and the lady in front of me had a running commentary (to who? to herself? to me?) about each item of food. Cookies at the front of the line? What do they want us to spoil our appetites? I think someone made a mistake. Sandwiches with tomatoes? Oh no, my father always ate sandwiches with tomatoes, sloppy tomato sandwiches he called them. Oh I hate sandwiches with tomatoes. No sandwiches with tomatoes for me. Chicken soup? Oh no, I make my own soup. No, I don't think I'll have any. You know I make my own soup.
I pitied the person she had a 10-minute pitch interview with. Crazy.
Oh and there was the 'I am semi-famous in Whitehorse and therefore can make inane (or insane?) random comments person.' For example, at lunch: "Today is the first day of the rest of our lives."
WTF? Yes, and it is a day I have two cookies for dessert. Nice try, Dead Poet's Society.
Asshats...
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