The big storm that blew out the entire power grid of Kitsap peninsula last week also shook the deepest vestiges of winter off. It brought forth what we in the Pacific Northwest describe as ‘false spring’ because we’ve been so vitamin-d deprived during the twelve weeks of the ‘long dark’ that the promise of 6pm sunsets and anything over 45 degrees has us emerging from hibernation, blinking at the sky in confusion, and setting out porch furniture only to regret it two weeks later when it proceeds to rain for 6 weeks straight.
At the very least, ‘false spring’ has encouraged me to release my white-knuckle grip of getting through winter and look up from my GYBE edits. I may have leaned too far into the hygge season this year in my determination not to leave my house after dark nor go more than two hours without a cup of tea. Socialize? Does my introverted butt even remember how to do that?
It will be trial by fire at the end of the month when I head off to AWP. This is the biggest writers conference in the country, and it happens once per year in rotating cities. The first year I attended, Seattle hosted, which was comforting for my first conference but also kind of felt like when my mom volunteered in my elementary school classroom. I can do it by myself, gosh, Mom. You don’t need to hold my hand but also can you sign me out early because I’m tired and I want to go home.
AWP is in Los Angeles this year. So far my preparations have included devoting an entire Saturday to cultivating my travel wardrobe, scrawling a rough timetable and list of seminars I want to attend (this is harder than it sounds, there are hundreds of interesting seminars and it’s hard to choose only one per timeslot), and drafting my ‘elevator pitch’ about myself. This last one is the hardest. “Tell me, what do you write?” Me—forgetting my own name+internal screaming.
I do have a few recent publications I could mention. This fall I was published in The War Horse News calling out an old boss’ bad behavior, but that might open up a bunch of uncomfortable topics that an innocent conversation is in no way prepared to tackle. One Potato published my ‘Birthday Knife’ story last week, in which I referenced my child’s possible homicidal tendencies, but now that I think about it, that might not be a good icebreaker, either. I have some major book news I’m still not allowed to announce. I could just be like, “Shhhh, it’s a secret”, and melt away into the crowd. Mysterious and memorable.
“I write mostly YA.” Tadaaaaa.
This year my focus will be on networking and after-conference events, so I really need to get my act together. It helps that I will know a bunch of people this year! I can’t wait to hang out with my Pen Parentis Monday night zoom accountability group in person and meet up with my agent. Like, who invited me to the cool kids’ table??
More to come.
Love,
Taylor
Cannons to Cruising 