This week on WordWranglers, we're talking about Conferences. I honestly don't have much to input on this one. RWA had it's national conference in NYC this last week, and read Christi's post for deets all about that.
As any of you know who follow this blog, and any newcomers, I live in the middle of nowhere. No RWA chapter nearby, no writers groups to belong to and a couple of crit groups I don't want to belong to.
The closest conferences are Denver and Crested Butte, both over two hours away--one direction. It's just not feasible for me to jump in the car or a plane and run to one of them.
Too much money.
Too much time.
Christi said in her post a mojita cost $18 at this last conference. We had steak, French fries and a green salad for the three of us for that two nights ago.
The one conference I did attend was in Denver, and I signed up to pitch to Leslie Wainger and Kristen Nelson. By the time my turn came around, I was nearly incoherent with a panic attack. A full-blown, can't breathe, can't speak attack. My friends got me under control enough that I could talk to Ms. Wainger, and I did get a request for a full. I think out of pity.
However, it was horrible. I'm terribly shy at heart, and talking to strangers was painful. I don't make small talk very well. I always say something stupid. Then blush.
I don't really want to go to a conference, honestly. I would like to see Kristi and Sara and other friends, but to pitch, to talk to strangers, not my idea of a good time.
I don't believe it hurts my career to miss these events.
Please say no!!!