Last September I went to my first writers’ conference. I had the good fortune of running into a former classmate from a memoir writing class I had taken at The Muse, who I hadn’t seen for a few months.
We sat together for most of the weekend, chatting during the breaks. It was good to see her, even though she kept telling me about the bedbug outbreak. I scratched phantom bedbug bites for a week after that conference!
I learned so much that weekend about writing, publishing and agents I thought my head might explode by the end of it.
This year was no different, with guest author Michael Palmer – who is a lot funnier than you would think, and a wealth of information – and Chuck Sambuchino. Chuck was also funny, and intensely focused. Agent Marisa Corvisiero was also hilarious, and interesting, not to mention charming and intelligent. All three were very easy to listen to, and my worst moments of the conference happened when two of the three were presenting in opposite rooms at the same time. Arg, I hate having to choose!
Still, all told it was an amazing experience. I met some new writers and reconnected with some old ones. Kudos to the Hampton Roads Writersfor all their hard work organizing the event, and pulling it off smoothly.
This year’s conference was just as full of gems as last year – but there was one thing missing.
Maybe next year, hey Jenn?
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