I'm late, I'm late, and I apologize. I've been deep in the throes of negotiating a Very Big Contract and time just vanished. Rest assured I'll tell you all about it when it finalizes. Now back to your scheduled blog...
by Janis Patterson
Writing is intrinsically a lonely profession. The image of a
novelist is often of a lionized celebrity, attending cocktail parties and book
signings while surrounded by adoring fans, living life to the fullest in a haze
of continual publicity - and, of course, being fabulously wealthy. Mention this
to any working novelist and they will probably burst into semi-hysterical
laughter.
The reality is not nearly so glamorous. Getting up or
staying up at odd hours to fit your writing around your real life schedule of
family, job, etc. Working all alone in a room filled with your imaginary
friends. Your working clothes are often either sweats or t-shirt and shorts and
sometimes your hair isn't even washed. For days on end the only person you see
besides your family is the postman.
I believe that's why writers' conferences are so popular and
so necessary, especially when the writer can't attend or doesn't have a nearby
writers' group. The Husband (who moonlights as my assistant) and I just
returned from the NINC conference in Florida. NINC is Novelists, Inc., an
association of working professional writers in all genres and their annual
conference is a benchmark of both professionalism and pleasure. For four days working
writers can get together and share experiences and hopes and problems with
people who actually understand.
Don't get me wrong - I think that today's published authors
should help those unpublisheds coming behind them, but not to the extent that
far too many of some unpublisheds think they should. Working professionals
deserve a time to themselves, where they can talk of things important to them
and not have to explain or define.
When you talk with someone about the capriciousness of
Amazon's algorithms or the sudden disappearance of the also-boughts, the pain
and ethics of shedding an unproductive agent or the heartening discovery of a
new editor it's inclusive to be able to do so with someone who realizes and
appreciates what you're talking about. There are also the inevitable in-jokes
and recalled histories of past conferences, renewed conversations with old
friends seen only at this conference, the making of new friends, and let us not
forget the enjoyable meeting of someone whom you admire and who just might
become a friend. (This happened to me - at the very first NINC conference I
attended I was fortunate enough to meet a lady whose writing I had admired for
years. We have become fast friends, which is something I never would have dreamed
might happen!)
And don't forget the workshops. In addition to the joy of
being with your own kind and the fun such gatherings engender, never forget
that a conference is a working occasion. NINC is a particularly intensive
conference, with (at the last one) three workshop tracks running together,
beginning at 9 in the morning, breaking for lunch and then resuming again until
5:30. There is then a dinner break, and the Night Owls, specialized chat
sessions which start at 7:15 and end up around 10. There are industry-sponsored
nightclub gatherings and drinks parties, banquets and... well, you get the
idea. Sleep rapidly becomes optional. In spite of the conference being held at
the luxurious TradeWinds Resort right on the water's edge in St. Pete's Beach
The Husband and I only got to walk on the beach once, on the day the conference
ended. Beaches are everywhere, we rationalized; we came to NINC to learn and
interact with others of our kind.
Yes, it is nice to have a tribe of your own. I recommend it
heartily.
