Conference Jitters

I'm nervous about attending the WIFYR conference and showing up unprepared or dressed the wrong way. I want to put my best foot forward so to speak and to reach out of my comfort zone and meet and greet the other attendees and also the presenters, editors, and agents that will be present. So, I asked the novel class assistant if she could answer a few questions for me, which she did.  She also sent me this great link that I'd like to share with you as well. First time conference attenders need all the help we can get right?

This is the link she sent me from Mary Kole, one of the agents attending the conference http://kidlit.com/2010/12/03/conference-checklist/  After reading Mary's post I ordered business cards from http://www.vistaprint.com/
Since I'll be driving up from CA for the conference I need to come prepared with everything that I'll need and I want to get it right. So, I've been looking through my maternity, yes, maternity clothes for decent business casual. No easy task, especially when if I decide I need something more I'll have to drive over an hour to a store. I know clothing seems a bit of a silly consideration, but for someone who'll be 19 weeks at the conference I need to be comfortable enough with myself to network, network, network.
Wish me luck.

I Did It

Tonight I submitted to my WIFRY class my required first 30 pages. Even though these pages have been written and edited many times over the past year, I found myself terrified of letting them go. Until now it has only been my critiquing partner Kathryn Purdie and two sisters who have read my work. Knowing that 12 other classmates-well 11 if you consider that Kathryn will be there, complete strangers to me will be reading my work and critiquing it is really daunting. To numb myself before the process I sent just my 30 pages, into which I fit my first 3 chapters, to 3 other people. They responded favorably and without a large amount of helpful suggestions, but still, at least now a few more people have read it.

The submissions are due on Monday, the 23rd, and then we will be sent everyone else's work to critique and print out before the conference- That is three-hundred-and-sixty pages (it seemed more significant written out that way). Now the waiting. All my classmates will know my work before they know my face. I wonder how that will affect their opinions. I do hope that they are both helpful, kind, and specific in their criticisms. I hope to do the same.

Getting My Book Taken Away

I was a really good student in 5th grade-smart, but also into sports. I sat in Mr. Perguson's second row. He was the overweight teacher that turned away from the class and sneezed towards the chalkboard to cover up his flatulance.  I never got in trouble, until one day during silent reading.  This is the book I was reading:

See them walking on the beach in nightgowns? Does this look risque to you? It sure did to Mr Perguson.  He took my book away and asked me where I have gotten it.

"My mother," I replied.

He harrumphed and told me he'd be keeping it for a while and that he would be calling my mother after school.

As the daughter of a daughter of a high school principle I knew that if I got in trouble at school, I would be in trouble at home. My parents supported our teachers as much as they could. So I sweated it a little, but mainly hoped that my mom would just think it was funny. After all, this was Katherine Paterson, the author of Bridge of Terabithia and The Trumpeter of Krakow. And this one was the Newberry Medal winner in 1981. 

I went home and told me mom what had happened. Better she heard it from me first, right? She did laugh, just like I was hoping. Later that evening she talked to Mr. Perguson on the phone, but she did not share the conversation with me.

The next morning before class started he came to my desk and returned my book saying he had read it the previous night and it was okay for me to read.

No kidding, I thought, my mom is the one who gave it to me.

He didn't question my reading for the rest of the year. The flatulence I'm afraid though, didn't go away. If only I'd been a few rows further back . . .

Note: there are 21 different covers of Jacob Have I Loved, and this cover is still my favorite. 

Finding My Inspiration

I've dreamed of writing a novel, of holding a book in my hands that has my name on the cover, some form or children's or young adult fantasy, with strong female leads, and difficult choices to make to save the world. Even so, I didn't know what to write. I needed my pearl, my grand idea. Would I dream of it like some authors do, or be inspired by a song, or something I watched? I looked for ideas and kept myself writing away- essays on my life, motherhood, short stories we tell our children about the fat, fat king, pages and pages of book ideas and themes I'd spend between a day to weeks exploring only to decide they weren't my book. Where was my book hiding?

I have a son who demands stories often- the second we get in the car (why did I sell the portable dvd player?), at walks, and of course bedtime. To keep my demanding son satisfied my husband and I would make up wild characters and tell about their outlandish adventures. Our son would often make us backup-we weren't telling the story the right way-and inform us what should be happening. I suppose you could say he is my first true editor.

Well one night I'd been thinking about my favorite fairytale-beauty and the beast- and I told Israel a story I didn't know I had inside of me. It was a story of a three year old girl and an experience she has on All-Summer's Eve. Israel was mesmerized, he wanted more, and so did I. I wanted to know what would happen to this character, what time she lived in, her family situation, her town and it's laws, well, just everything. So I began writing page after page, throwing out some, embracing others, and feeling the story, her story, come to life. A good friend told me of her own journey into writing a novel and so we began a pact, a plan to write and support each other on our journeys to first completed and published novels.

Baby Surprise

Three days after signing up for WIFYR conference I found out I was pregnant again. Oh, the emotions this brings out. Will this pregnancy make it? Will I be sick? Will I be able to write the 50,000 words I planned to write before the conference? Well, the answers are - Yes, I made it to my second trimester. Yes, I was sick, worse than any pregnancy before. And no, I would not be able to write at my previously planned pace. Even so, I'm glad to be able to announce that I'm 12 weeks along and hopeful to feel back to my wonderful busily writing self soon.

My First Writing Conference

I signed up for my first ever writing conference!
The Writing and Illustrating for Young Readers (or WIFY for short) in Sandy, Utah this upcoming June. I'm excited and terrified at the same time. I will get to rub shoulders with some big names-Holly Black, Ally Condy, Carol Lynch Williams (did you read her amazing book The Chosen One?), Brandon Mull to name a few. My teacher is Louise Plummer. I hadn't heard of her before looking into the conference, but once I read up on all her amazing experience and read reviews from people who have taken her classes, I honestly can't wait. I just hope that she can tell me more than "you have beautiful hazeleyes" although I really do:) Read quote below to understand:
Louise, what can students expect to learn from your class?

"Students are expected to bring a finished or partially finished novel, of which I will read 20 pages during the week. Class members will read sections of each other's novels and critique these in class. We will also write in class, play around with verbs and adjectives, gossip about other living writers, and eat as much junk food as we can. I will either be funny, look funny, or both."

Would you describe your strengths as a teacher?

"I will grab you by the throat and say, "You can do this! You can!" Or I will say, "You need a year of apprenticeship before you send this to a publisher," or I will say, "Gosh, you have beautiful hazel eyes."

Do you think she knows I have hazel eyes? I take comfort in the fact that she answered these questions before I signed up.  Doesn't she sound like fun?

And the best part is that I'm taking this class with my very best friend, by writing buddy Kathyrn Purdie. We both write YA Character-Driven Fantasy, so we may have fit better in Holly Black's class, but it was already full.  Still, I think we're going to learn a ton in this class.

Here's to days filled with writing, and confidence in my 30 page submission required for the class. I'll keep you posted how the preparation and conference goes.

My Parents

I blame my parents completely for my addiction to books. My house was overflowing with them. For treats Mom would take us to The Intimate Book Shop and let us pick four or five books of our choosing. How I loved that store. I wish it still existed, but this post isn't about the takeover of local book stores, so we won't talk about that.

Each summer we took road trips-either out West to see our family or up the East Coast on camping adventures. And along the way Mom or one of my older siblings would read to us. Lots of Roald Dahl (isn't he wonderful?). I distinctly remember my mom reading Danny the Champion of the World and being so engrossed in the story that the car trip flew by as I was busy poaching pheasants and out smarting the town's nasty rich guy, what was his name? What a dream to live in a caravan with a father whose eyes smiled.
So, it's not surprising that growing up when I wasn't romping in the woods behind our house, catching crawfish in the creek, or flying on my bike, I would be reading in my room. "Hibernating" my mom called it.