SCBWI Winter Conference
My trip to New York was truly fabulous. I'm still floating around, albeit a bit drowsily, enjoying the afterglow.
After being thwarted twice (on previous trips), I finally made it to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I saw some great paintings, and some exhibits that I think could have been put together better, and left feeling satisfied.
I went to see Present Laughter (play by Noel Coward), A Little Night Music (musical revival by Stephen Sondheim), and Next to Normal (a musical by Tom Kitt and Brian Yorkey). All three provided excellent nights of theater, and very contrasting. I'd recommend any of them with no hesitation.
I got to hear some great speeches about writing, meet several editors, hear about the current state of the market until I was bleeding out of my ears, and then be told repeatedly that I should ignore the market. I got helpful criticism and some positive feedback to make the criticism go down easier. I also had an excellent lemon tart.
Ultimately, I think that what makes a conference (or a convention or workshop) is the people. I met some of the most amazing people this weekend. Supportive, intelligent, funny!!!, creative, passionate, caring. And most of all, genuine. I feel so moved by spending time with these people that I'm having trouble even putting what I feel into words.
Ellen Klages gave a great speech at Wiscon last spring in which she talked about how she found her tribe through the convention. I was touched at the time, but now I feel like I know what she meant. I spent two and a half days at the conference in New York, and I feel like I want to know some of the people I met for the rest of my life.
If any of you are reading this now, please know that you gave me a real gift this weekend. I am so happy to have met you.
And, like the cherry on the top of the sundae, at the end of the weekend I got to spend a few hours with one of the wiser people of my acquaintance, who I originally met at Wiscon. By the end of our time together, I felt more like me than I've done in a long, long time.
Life is shifting right now, and I am so ready.
After being thwarted twice (on previous trips), I finally made it to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I saw some great paintings, and some exhibits that I think could have been put together better, and left feeling satisfied.
I went to see Present Laughter (play by Noel Coward), A Little Night Music (musical revival by Stephen Sondheim), and Next to Normal (a musical by Tom Kitt and Brian Yorkey). All three provided excellent nights of theater, and very contrasting. I'd recommend any of them with no hesitation.
I got to hear some great speeches about writing, meet several editors, hear about the current state of the market until I was bleeding out of my ears, and then be told repeatedly that I should ignore the market. I got helpful criticism and some positive feedback to make the criticism go down easier. I also had an excellent lemon tart.
Ultimately, I think that what makes a conference (or a convention or workshop) is the people. I met some of the most amazing people this weekend. Supportive, intelligent, funny!!!, creative, passionate, caring. And most of all, genuine. I feel so moved by spending time with these people that I'm having trouble even putting what I feel into words.
Ellen Klages gave a great speech at Wiscon last spring in which she talked about how she found her tribe through the convention. I was touched at the time, but now I feel like I know what she meant. I spent two and a half days at the conference in New York, and I feel like I want to know some of the people I met for the rest of my life.
If any of you are reading this now, please know that you gave me a real gift this weekend. I am so happy to have met you.
And, like the cherry on the top of the sundae, at the end of the weekend I got to spend a few hours with one of the wiser people of my acquaintance, who I originally met at Wiscon. By the end of our time together, I felt more like me than I've done in a long, long time.
Life is shifting right now, and I am so ready.