Conferences etc: What’s the Point?—M.G.Sondraal

I strive to be a good writer. I want to hone my craft and seek excellence. Of course that means doing the work--writing, re-writing, editing, and the frightened release of your work to your trusted circle of readers who will provide you honest feedback (the scariest part of writing).

I’ve attended three writers’ conferences, taken a few courses in creative writing, and belong to a couple of official writers’ groups that ask for a membership fee and more for webinars attended, and I’ve ponied up for a few of those as well. I’ve spent hard-earned dollars on books about writing, though a tiny amount compared to my total book budget, if it can be considered a budget since there is no ceiling on that spending item. I’ve listened to a handful of podcast episodes, and I follow some respected people “in the biz” on Instagram.

Two questions spring to mind: 1) why do I do it? and 2) is it worth it?

Answers to the first are easy.

·        Life-long learning is not limited to scholarly subjects so pursuing more information about an area of interest is good for your brain, and if it’s a creative endeavour, your soul. Becoming more knowledgeable about your craft can only enhance your writing. Classes can give you answers to questions immediately if you dare to enter the discussion.

·        Books provide the considered advice of a very successful author, or someone completely obscure. Many authors support themselves by selling books to aspiring writers advising them how to be successful and I support them making a living from writing any way they can. These books on writing give a framework for success that worked for them and maybe for most, but not all your questions will be answered.

·        The more we know about writing and publishing, the better prepared we are for the disappointments. Reality is far crueler than fantasy, but you need to nurture that tiny spark of hope that it can all happen for you.

Answers to the second are not.

·        Conferences, especially those not in your own locale, are costly and becoming more expensive as grants for the arts are diminishing and the full cost must be borne by the participants. If you’re an aspiring author, or a not-on-the-best-seller-list author, that’s money you may not have to spend.

·        Conferences do concentrate your focus for a short period of time. They introduce you to established authors who willingly share their experience with you. Industry people mingle amongst you, equally happy to impart their knowledge. Most importantly, other writers are there, some with similar interests, and you can expand your support group to include people across the country or just a few blocks away.

·        “Networking” can be very hard. Writers sit in the solitude of their own mind and create new worlds, characters, and stories. To speak to strangers about your work is terrifying. I remember taking two days to screw up my courage to ask a question of Charlaine Harris as we walked from one room to the next and I remember sitting one chair away from Carly Watters and never venturing a single question or participating in the table conversation at all. It is always better for me to attend with a friend and fellow writer who is less introverted than I. She forces me to engage in discussions, and I do benefit from them.

·        There is a sense of camaraderie to be amongst people who share your aspirations, to see people who two years ago or twenty years ago were where you are now and realize it can happen for some. It’s a marvelous experience to learn what other people are creating in their stolen moments or their protected time and to provide them with admiration and encouragement.

·        Not all advice will work for you. We each have our own process, and some methods aren’t a good fit. I regard these as tools that can be used in certain situations in editing when I struggle with specific elements of the story. Good to know, useful in a pinch, but not something I need to use consistently.

·        Enthusiasm for newly acquired knowledge lasts maybe five days before it begins to fade. Only when I use it immediately do I hold on to the bits that boost my imagination or transform my process. Otherwise, it vanishes into distance, irrespective of how inspiring it was in the moment of presentation.

·        One caution about seeking knowledge about how to write is that it detracts from actual writing. I’ve observed writers who read every new “how-to” book, attend classes, participate in webinars, listen to innumerable podcasts and become so mired in learning to be excellent that they write very little themselves. Whether this is a rabbit-hole of research for them or a way to procrastinate or both, I cannot tell but I do know that you can’t edit a blank page. Unless you write, you have nothing to edit and re-write. Anything that prevents you from writing is a bad thing. We learn best from doing, not listening to how others do it.

My own approach is to use all these opportunities judiciously and have few expectations. If I get a couple of ideas that may benefit my own writing or make me question how I typically do things, I’m happy with a course or a webinar. If I learn strategies that seem utterly ridiculous and needlessly effortful, I’m equally satisfied because that clarifies what works for me and what seems artificial and cumbersome.

Organizations of writers for writers are interesting. The fees are modest in comparison to conferences and book buying costs, but you get bombarded with emails which I find vaguely irritating. They are large groups, and information needs widely distributed so I understand, but I often get more than one daily from each. (Solution—make a rule that all those emails go directly to a file and don’t linger in my inbox. I can look at them once a week and delete and not be bothered otherwise.) Occasionally they have interesting webinars or group meetings at times when I can attend and find an information gem to store away for future reference.

Conferences are more problematic. Since they are so pricey with fees, hotel rooms, meals, and travel expenses, I think it best to have specific goals in mind. Tragically, you won’t casually meet an agent in the coffee queue who’s enchanted by your book premise, offers to represent you, and within three months you have a book deal and a Netflix movie planned. If that’s your goal, you will be disappointed. (Like I said, fantasy is more satisfying than reality.)

Set some personal goals for the conference and if there are specific seminars that intrigue you, go to them and glean what you can. Force yourself to talk to your fellow writers. They have many helpful tips to share.

Unless you need a conference to light a fire under you and get things started, be careful not to go too soon--before you’re ready for the reality of the publishing business, before your WIP is actually in progress and not still an idea tumbling around your brain, before you’re prepared to listen to other ways of doing things.

Also, remember that the presenters make money from the written word, not the spoken word. Not all are skilled at verbal communication, but if they have a handout, it will be well-edited and clear. Those that are practiced in public speaking, are worth a listen, even if it’s not what you want to hear. As I’ve mentioned, reality ruins a good fantasy every time it encounters one.

I’m always looking for ways to reframe the opportunities I have and squeeze out more benefit.

What do you find helpful in your pursuit of writing excellence?