I’m getting ready to go to New York to the SCBWI winter conference. This is the second year I’ve gone. But this year I’ll be going with my husband instead of my sister. It’ll be better in some ways and worse in others. My sister and I, not having lived in a big city, didn’t feel comfortable going out after dark. So at least with him we’ll do that. That part will be better. It’ll be worse because my husband isn’t a writer, so I’ll be going to the conference itself by myself.
I am actually quite outgoing, but I remember that last year I felt like a fish out of water. I write because I love it. I’ve never claimed to be an English major, or have the slightest inkling what the publishing world does. Hence why I go to the conferences.
Last year I took way too much stuff. I brought five copies of my first fifty pages, several queries, and countless first chapters. I even ordered five hundred business cards. I think I gave out 2.
I can’t even make myself feel better about using them this year. I’ve changed my email and started a website since then.
This year I’ll bring less stuff, just a journal and maybe a few (new) business cards.
But one thing will be the same. Hope. I hope someone loves my characters as much as I do. I hope I meet the person who will publish my book.