"Fire in the chute!"
So, SCBWI, the first
I hardly know where to start.
Perhaps withyesterday. While I had no illusions that I'd be able to read and respond appropriately to the assigned reading for the post-modernism in children's lit class, I did think I'd get more than a chapter read. But a week of late nights getting ready for all the potential "what-if" and "just-in-case" moments at SCBWI left me exhausted and the regular ratata of the tracks soon lulled me to sleep, though not before I wrapped my scarf around my face to keep out the light.
We arrived in NYC, and since it was late I didn't see much but shining lights, and since I was tired, it was very much a blur. But we hopped onto the subway and made our way to our hotel. It's the coolest place, you got the feeling that you hadn't left the train yet, but instead had upgraded to a luxury roomette. I will post pictures and a link when I'm not trying to empty my brain, and actually have access to my own laptop. It's very modular, and trendy, reminiscent of highly functional IKEA furniture. We were asleep in no time.
Saturday morning came much too early. Since we got a room with a big queen-sized yeahright bed, we actually had our own shower, sink and toilet in the room. Don't get me wrong, it's really, really cool, but it's all really, really tiny. Even for skinny tall people. We showered and headed out to the hotel for the conference. We passed a fire station where a firetruck was loading up and heading out. Bill looked at me and said, "They're probably headed for the conference."
We kept walking, passed Radio City Music Hall and spotted a bunch of other place you only ever see on TV or read about in books and then spotted the Hotel. Where indeed, the firetruck was one of several parked in front of the hotel.
Of course I gestured and fumed at Bill, "They were headed someplace entirely different until you said that!"
As a result we got to see a number of authors, agents and editors still in their jammies. Supposedly. I'm pretty sure we weren't early enough for that.
Since nobody was making a serious effort to move everyone out or keep anyone from entering, we went inside. We were clearly at a writer's conference. Bill of course was ever helpful and tactful, "So, do the boy-writers have their own SCBWI conference?"
Hey. There were 154 of 'em there. Out of 500.
The first session was a discussion of poetry with Nikki Grimes. She's my new favorite children's lit poet, I wanted to cry and laugh and cheer with every single poem she read. The next session was with David Wiesner which was fabulous. What I did not realize was how long he's been illustrating. The most well known book jacket that he's done, that is not his own story telling, is probably the art for the Susan Cooper "Dark Is Rising" series. It didn't occur to me until later that I should've taken more copious notes, since Flotsam is actually on our reading list for the PM-CL class.
Then we had our breakout sessions and they were absolutely phenomenal. The keynote speaker was Carolyn Mackler who is now also my new favorite writer, though I've not read any of her work. She shared so much, she read from her journal, which she'd kept when she was a teenager (which was additionally funny, because one of the guys she read about was actually a conference attendee) and several letters and anecdotes, which all sounds very touchy-feely, but there was rhyme and reason as to why she contributed these bits. And she's funny and smart and wonderful and you should all go read her books, though I can't say if they're any good, because I only adore the writer, so far.
After lunch there was another round of breakout sessions, I bought a SCBWI bag and two reference books (I actually managed to spend less than $50 in a bookstore) and went to the agents' panel.
Essentially, I went armed with a bag full of responses to hypothetical situations that didn't (or haven't yet) occurred, but I'm thoroughly pleased with what I've learned so far, that I could not attend tomorrow and still consider the weekend a success. Of course, I will attend tomorrow, you never know what will happen. But it's been an outstanding experience.
And I not only had a chance to see kathleenfoucart, but I ran into a bunch of other Hollins girls, some from my 'tween time, like Dhonielle, whom I only know from facebook and from my first go round, like Val, Eve, and Terry, though I didn't get to talk with her, and her friend from Hollins whose name I couldn't remember because I only ever knew her as "that chick Terry hangs out with." And of course I hung out with Elaine from my SCBWI critique group and we'll have lots of interesting goodies to bring back to the group.
Afterwards, Bill picked me up with Dana and we went off for dinner, the creamiest cheesecake in New York and finally a long subway ride and walk back to the hotel. Actually, it probably wasn't that long, but it had been a long day.
I hardly know where to start.
Perhaps withyesterday. While I had no illusions that I'd be able to read and respond appropriately to the assigned reading for the post-modernism in children's lit class, I did think I'd get more than a chapter read. But a week of late nights getting ready for all the potential "what-if" and "just-in-case" moments at SCBWI left me exhausted and the regular ratata of the tracks soon lulled me to sleep, though not before I wrapped my scarf around my face to keep out the light.
We arrived in NYC, and since it was late I didn't see much but shining lights, and since I was tired, it was very much a blur. But we hopped onto the subway and made our way to our hotel. It's the coolest place, you got the feeling that you hadn't left the train yet, but instead had upgraded to a luxury roomette. I will post pictures and a link when I'm not trying to empty my brain, and actually have access to my own laptop. It's very modular, and trendy, reminiscent of highly functional IKEA furniture. We were asleep in no time.
Saturday morning came much too early. Since we got a room with a big queen-sized yeahright bed, we actually had our own shower, sink and toilet in the room. Don't get me wrong, it's really, really cool, but it's all really, really tiny. Even for skinny tall people. We showered and headed out to the hotel for the conference. We passed a fire station where a firetruck was loading up and heading out. Bill looked at me and said, "They're probably headed for the conference."
We kept walking, passed Radio City Music Hall and spotted a bunch of other place you only ever see on TV or read about in books and then spotted the Hotel. Where indeed, the firetruck was one of several parked in front of the hotel.
Of course I gestured and fumed at Bill, "They were headed someplace entirely different until you said that!"
As a result we got to see a number of authors, agents and editors still in their jammies. Supposedly. I'm pretty sure we weren't early enough for that.
Since nobody was making a serious effort to move everyone out or keep anyone from entering, we went inside. We were clearly at a writer's conference. Bill of course was ever helpful and tactful, "So, do the boy-writers have their own SCBWI conference?"
Hey. There were 154 of 'em there. Out of 500.
The first session was a discussion of poetry with Nikki Grimes. She's my new favorite children's lit poet, I wanted to cry and laugh and cheer with every single poem she read. The next session was with David Wiesner which was fabulous. What I did not realize was how long he's been illustrating. The most well known book jacket that he's done, that is not his own story telling, is probably the art for the Susan Cooper "Dark Is Rising" series. It didn't occur to me until later that I should've taken more copious notes, since Flotsam is actually on our reading list for the PM-CL class.
Then we had our breakout sessions and they were absolutely phenomenal. The keynote speaker was Carolyn Mackler who is now also my new favorite writer, though I've not read any of her work. She shared so much, she read from her journal, which she'd kept when she was a teenager (which was additionally funny, because one of the guys she read about was actually a conference attendee) and several letters and anecdotes, which all sounds very touchy-feely, but there was rhyme and reason as to why she contributed these bits. And she's funny and smart and wonderful and you should all go read her books, though I can't say if they're any good, because I only adore the writer, so far.
After lunch there was another round of breakout sessions, I bought a SCBWI bag and two reference books (I actually managed to spend less than $50 in a bookstore) and went to the agents' panel.
Essentially, I went armed with a bag full of responses to hypothetical situations that didn't (or haven't yet) occurred, but I'm thoroughly pleased with what I've learned so far, that I could not attend tomorrow and still consider the weekend a success. Of course, I will attend tomorrow, you never know what will happen. But it's been an outstanding experience.
And I not only had a chance to see kathleenfoucart, but I ran into a bunch of other Hollins girls, some from my 'tween time, like Dhonielle, whom I only know from facebook and from my first go round, like Val, Eve, and Terry, though I didn't get to talk with her, and her friend from Hollins whose name I couldn't remember because I only ever knew her as "that chick Terry hangs out with." And of course I hung out with Elaine from my SCBWI critique group and we'll have lots of interesting goodies to bring back to the group.
Afterwards, Bill picked me up with Dana and we went off for dinner, the creamiest cheesecake in New York and finally a long subway ride and walk back to the hotel. Actually, it probably wasn't that long, but it had been a long day.