It's been a week since I left for Chicago North's Spring Fling conference, which was held in Deerfield, just north of Chicago. I said goodbye to my in-laws, who would be returning to England while I was away, and arrived early to help my chapter mates set up.
I didn't experience any of nervousness that had dogged me during the national conference, and it's not hard to figure out why. At Nationals, I was almost entirely on my own. I had never been to a chapter meeting and knew no one in person. All of my acquaintances had been formed online. Also, I had attended the national conference with the purpose of pitching What a Scoundrel Wants, which meant that I was hyper-aware of all the attendees sporting editor and agent badges.
And the sheer scope of nationals is mind-boggling. Little old me suddenly found myself amongst 2,000 other aspiring writers. The little fish in a big pond scenario can do serious damage to the ego.
But the conference in Chicago with a much friendlier happening. I knew roughly 40 people by sight, having attended Chicago North meetings since August. I roomed with Liz, and once Nancy got rid of her husband, she was good to go too. I moderated a workshop on Friday afternoon, wound up mingling in the bar for most of the afternoon, and attended an absolutely fantastic dinner of Mediterranean food to honor the conference's special guests. (Liz, Nancy and I were special because we volunteered to be committee heads. The responsibility was worth it for the food alone. Hummus!)
I mingled and chatted for most of the evening, discussing publicity strategy with Blythe Gifford and congratulating Golden Heart winner Marilyn Brant on her first sale to Kensington. That means I have someone to attend the Kensington party with at Nationals this year! Liz is not a night owl, so I was surprised to find her up when I got back to the room. But her head was spinning with ideas after having talked to an editor at Avon about their mutual love for Regencies.
The next morning, Liz and I were up ungodly early. Neither of us slept particularly well in the hotel beds, even though they were exceedingly comfortable. Just the strangeness of a new locale. So we headed down to the lovely breakfast buffet, and listened to Christie Ridgway deliver her breakfast headliner's speech. Then came workshops, but Liz and I escaped back to the hotel room and worked until lunchtime, when we had pecan pie and listened as Eloisa James tried her damnedest to make us cry with her speech.
Most of the afternoon involved setting up the book signing event. As the committee heads, Liz and I were in charge of setting up the room, working with the fantastic Sue Peterson of Brain Snacks to get books out on the tables, and instructing our volunteers on how to handle the huge influx of eager readers. Debbie Macomber debuted her latest, Twenty Wishes, at the signing and had publicized the event throughout Chicago, which drew in a huge number of people who wouldn't have normally attended the event. A number of our Chicago North authors sold out, which was fantastic, and the event went off without a hitch. I got to meet and talk with everyone, including Amy Knupp, author and VP of Stone Creek Media, which is handling my website redesign.
What's funny is thinking that in two years, when the next Spring Fling will be held, I'll be one of the signers! Sweet!
After wrapping up the book signing, we changed for dinner which had a Mardi Gras theme. I wore my chocolate brown party dress, of course. The food was delicious, once again, and Debbie Macomber delivered her keynote speech. The silent auction raised scads of money for Chicago literacy, and we danced through till late in the evening to a Mardi Gras band.
Come morning, Liz and I spent happy hours plotting her book, because it turns out she got a business card from that Avon editor, who is now happily looking forward to Liz's submission. A love match! And Nancy reconnected with a former editor who is now working as an agent. Another love match! I tell you, it was the happiest, most carefree conference you could ever imagine. I didn't have to sell my manuscript or chat up editors or agents, but neither did I have an actual book to pimp. Just a bit soon for that. So I enjoyed the limbo and just helped out where I could. A fun, great, memorable weekend.
And now I'm listening to...
I didn't experience any of nervousness that had dogged me during the national conference, and it's not hard to figure out why. At Nationals, I was almost entirely on my own. I had never been to a chapter meeting and knew no one in person. All of my acquaintances had been formed online. Also, I had attended the national conference with the purpose of pitching What a Scoundrel Wants, which meant that I was hyper-aware of all the attendees sporting editor and agent badges.
And the sheer scope of nationals is mind-boggling. Little old me suddenly found myself amongst 2,000 other aspiring writers. The little fish in a big pond scenario can do serious damage to the ego.
But the conference in Chicago with a much friendlier happening. I knew roughly 40 people by sight, having attended Chicago North meetings since August. I roomed with Liz, and once Nancy got rid of her husband, she was good to go too. I moderated a workshop on Friday afternoon, wound up mingling in the bar for most of the afternoon, and attended an absolutely fantastic dinner of Mediterranean food to honor the conference's special guests. (Liz, Nancy and I were special because we volunteered to be committee heads. The responsibility was worth it for the food alone. Hummus!)
I mingled and chatted for most of the evening, discussing publicity strategy with Blythe Gifford and congratulating Golden Heart winner Marilyn Brant on her first sale to Kensington. That means I have someone to attend the Kensington party with at Nationals this year! Liz is not a night owl, so I was surprised to find her up when I got back to the room. But her head was spinning with ideas after having talked to an editor at Avon about their mutual love for Regencies.
The next morning, Liz and I were up ungodly early. Neither of us slept particularly well in the hotel beds, even though they were exceedingly comfortable. Just the strangeness of a new locale. So we headed down to the lovely breakfast buffet, and listened to Christie Ridgway deliver her breakfast headliner's speech. Then came workshops, but Liz and I escaped back to the hotel room and worked until lunchtime, when we had pecan pie and listened as Eloisa James tried her damnedest to make us cry with her speech.
Most of the afternoon involved setting up the book signing event. As the committee heads, Liz and I were in charge of setting up the room, working with the fantastic Sue Peterson of Brain Snacks to get books out on the tables, and instructing our volunteers on how to handle the huge influx of eager readers. Debbie Macomber debuted her latest, Twenty Wishes, at the signing and had publicized the event throughout Chicago, which drew in a huge number of people who wouldn't have normally attended the event. A number of our Chicago North authors sold out, which was fantastic, and the event went off without a hitch. I got to meet and talk with everyone, including Amy Knupp, author and VP of Stone Creek Media, which is handling my website redesign.
What's funny is thinking that in two years, when the next Spring Fling will be held, I'll be one of the signers! Sweet!
After wrapping up the book signing, we changed for dinner which had a Mardi Gras theme. I wore my chocolate brown party dress, of course. The food was delicious, once again, and Debbie Macomber delivered her keynote speech. The silent auction raised scads of money for Chicago literacy, and we danced through till late in the evening to a Mardi Gras band.
Come morning, Liz and I spent happy hours plotting her book, because it turns out she got a business card from that Avon editor, who is now happily looking forward to Liz's submission. A love match! And Nancy reconnected with a former editor who is now working as an agent. Another love match! I tell you, it was the happiest, most carefree conference you could ever imagine. I didn't have to sell my manuscript or chat up editors or agents, but neither did I have an actual book to pimp. Just a bit soon for that. So I enjoyed the limbo and just helped out where I could. A fun, great, memorable weekend.
And now I'm listening to...
Don't you know that we're all alone now?
I need something to sing about
Rock and roll, hey!
"Crushcrushcrush" by Paramore
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