Later this month I will be attending the Pacific Northwest Writer's Association Conference in Seattle. I've been to conferences before...ok well only one and it was smaller and I didn't have anything at stake. I mean, I was basically just writing on the side. But since that conference, I've grown by leaps and bounds. In fact as I write this I'm pretty amazed at what I have learned over the last few years. I've written numerous articles (some published), essays (some published), picture books, a children's chapter book and an adult novel (No mom, not that kind...no need to worry). I've put hundreds of hours into learning about the craft and business of writing. I've spent a good part of about three years transcribing my father's WWII letters, and writing our story. I am now in the process of editing and learning about the book business. And creating my platform is a new obsession.
So this conference will not be like my virgin one. Oh the blissful days. Now there is a lot on the line. I am signed up to pitch my memoir to an agent that I love...well as much as a person can love someone they've met only over the internet. So I want to get everything I can out of the conference. It is a sacrafice to go. I can't afford it and was given a gift-scholarship by an annonymous donor. Being the consciensious person that I am, I want to get my, uh-their money's worth.
So I've been doing research this weekend. What should one wear? What can I expect from the 10-minute pitch session? What to be sure to do...What not to do. But the most important thing to me is, "What can I do to make th e most of this? How can I be assured that I will walk away from that mountain top with new knowledge that will propel my writing career forward? It's such a personal thing and it's all up to me. Now that's scary!