I would imagine the post title is confusing, but it did totally depress me to have the bag of teeny tiny avocados I brought to Dayton for energy boosts
while I attending the Erma Bombeck Writers' Workshop
become rock hard alien eggs overnight in a mini fridge.
The same plight happened to the grapefruit and the mandarin I had packed.
My healthy snack options became obsolete.
Thankfully the conference site provided a protein peanut butter based option.
I came to the very first offering of this writing workshop in 2000.
Do not ask me to remember what I did or heard.
But let me use a Maya Angelou quote adaptation,
"How did it make me feel?"
Joyful.
Which is why I returned!
26 years later.
Hey!
Life happened.
I still wrote!
I got rejections. I had some publishings. I self-published. I worked within the literacy and literary circles as a student, educator, and learner.
Online options for Erma events were offered and I took those.
But, when I found out Kelly Corrigan was going to be a keynote speaker I marked the registration date on my calendar and scored a ticket.
(The event is held every other year. This year tickets sold out in 37 hours.)
My only goals for the event were to have fun
and hear Kelly's current perspectives.
(I've been a fan for decades.)
My low expectations had a very high payout.
Kelly Corrigan's podcast takes essay submissions, did you know that?
Come with me now to 5:00 on the day I arrived, an hour past my lodging check in which had fallen through. My (basically blind date) roommate was on a plane. Things worked out, for the better thankfully, but it also meant my trip to the area would change. My plan was for my son and his family to come visit me at the home I had rented in Dayton. A place where a one year-old could take naps while we ate non-frozen avocados and played frisbee in a yard. Nope. Instead I drove to Cincinnati on a day when there was a three accident pile-up on the highway. My GPS diverted me to country back roads. When I told the story to my seat mate that evening during dinner I emphasized that I am a city girl and would have rather sat in bumper to bumper traffic than enduring the stress of my lucky 13 year-old Elantra climbing to the top of a hilly, curved road, dotted with horses, cows, and barns, to then smash into a tractor.
"The app should have an option to avoid scenic farm lands,"
said the (Erma humor based) writing conference attendee.
I told her I would be stealing her witty retort.
The roommate I had bamboozled into trusting me with secure and safe lodgings heard my voice message as she changed planes. She replied back with gratitude for my ability to find us beds closer to the conference, even if they would be closer to each other. (I am so glad I packed that white noise machine to place between our two queen sized beds.) How thankful am I that grew up attending overnight camp, have taken teenagers on summer work trips, and have even opted for the group bedroom on a yoga nidra retreat.
Sharing air, often noisy and awkward in close settings, is not scary for me.
But it's not for everybody.
(In May I have another "blind date" assignment
for a trip to NYC for a Broadway tour trip!)
Bunking up does save money, but my "roomie" had signed up for a single...
In reflection, it felt like the dorm room experience of a freshman in college. Although there was an 18 year gap in our ages, the two of us were given the gift of proximity where we could disclose our thoughts and feelings about the conference in private confidence. Mind you, there was a lot of sharing at this event! The sectional in the lobby/bar/restaurant of the hotel
was a buzz with activity sometimes late into the morning.
I have tinnitus, so that kind of setting and large ballrooms full of chatterings make it hard to properly hear and process conversations,
but wow, the people watching was A+!
On the first night of the events there was a shuttle bus to a library where an awards ceremony was held. As I topped the bus steps and looked for an open seat a woman patted the one beside her and told me to sit down. What a relief. That kind of welcoming inclusion was carried on throughout the workshop. Predominantly attended by women, the tables of eight-ish at catered dinners and boxed lunches filled up more at random than in cliques with saved seats. Not saying any names, but female gatherings do not always have the same flavor. Oh, and the food was delicious! Erma Bombeck has a famous quip: "Seize the moment. Remember all those women on the 'Titanic' who waved off the dessert cart?" Well, I heeded that advice! By the second evening found like minded people willing to split the set treats so we could try both!
Call up a friend.
Imposter syndrome paralyzes people.
You meet who you meet at these things.
With about 500 fellow attendees I imagine
I really only got to know 5% of the people
at a place where we exchanged personal information.
(Trading calling/business cards/scraps of paper/social media profiles.)
But I wasn't there to network.
I didn't have a project to promote and happily no one was pushy about their's.
Okay, I'll admit it, I sought out this hair soulmate
for a selfie and then later was able to learn more about her.
My once maniac magenta hair has now morphed into an anemic salmon color with streaks, but I am still loving it.
There were at least a dozen people there with colored highlights!
And the "costumes" donned at this literary performance were on point.
Shoes with pizazz, angled eye glasses, baggy overalls,
vintage and tailored dresses,
and even a purse made from an LP.
But there were also business suits, sweatpants, and college team swag tees.
Bob Eckstein's comic version of the basketball March Madness games.
I arrived wearing a Thurber dog cartoon shirt. The conference has a relationship with the Columbus based Thurber House and Thurber Humor Prize. I was the co-director of their writing summer camp. (A gum ball machine amount of age spots and a maze of wrinkles ago.)
I was able to speak with the now director about my joy
of still being in touch with a former camper who holds poetry slams.
Letters, emails, texts, social media, and more importantly intention
help us all to be privy to someone's life sequel.
We get to decide who we befriend.
Ends up I hang with the SHE-nanigans.
There's a Pitchpalooza at the conference where writers have one minute to sell their book and gain an agent's ear and assistance. Out of all those gathered I had already befriended the person who won! She had let me be her shadow/date in the bookstore area. My eyes now allow my ears to do most of my reading using audiobooks. (I am currently enjoying key note speaker Steven Rowley's "Lily and the Octopus" on Libby.) Just like when I go to an art show, I gave the author/artists a smile, so impressed with their bravery just to be there.
I used to open book flaps for authors at THE Ohio State University's Children's Literature Conference as librarians toted in trunk loads to be autographed.
But not for every author.
Meeting the public takes gumption and oxygen.
Writers are not all extroverts.
In my opinion and experience, most are not.
Think of why you create - any art.
Most of the sessions were content based,
focusing on the craft of composing fiction,
memoir, nonfiction, comedy, and more.
But many of the sessions of the conference covered
what happens after you have completed your project
and where the roles of marketing fall.
For over three decades I have watched this part of the puzzle freeze up writers.
While attending a "speed writing" prompt based session I was reminded that I do not write fictional pieces, but I don't mind the challenge.
With a b&w pic, a few setting and character details
we were tasked to compose a tale in seven minutes.
You know what was revealed to me most?
Dang! Some people can get a lot of words on a page fast!
And richly detailed sentences, laced with wit and one of a kind storylines.
It was enjoyable to hear all the different twists of plot!
But I write slow.
And I don't have the kind of imagination that whips up worlds in a frenzy.
But I am still a writer.
And I loved being around different kinds of writers.
After the session was over the woman beside me asked if I'd listen to her Pitchpalooza pitch.
I did.
She asked for feedback.
I gave it.
That's what happens at a workshop where trust develops.
Call up a friend.
Read the person your writing.
You don't have to have publishing goals.
You can just like words and the way your brain arranges them.
Or, just take a quote you've heard and mail it to a friend.
That's still being a writer!
When people asked me what I write sometimes I told them a tidbit or two.
It's thoughtful they asked.
But I deflected mostly.
I let others share.
This workshop is a great place to hone your talents, network and schmooze.
It's also just a good time.
The authors that presented gave hilarious and heart warming speeches.
On the night names were drawn randomly for people to read a three minute essay I was seated at the table where the first person's name was drawn.
She was elated!
Days afterwards the two of us head nodded
and smiled at each other in the hallways.
Good endorphins.
Having a (safe) place where you can share your writing with others - no agenda, no critique - is rare and something to treasure.
I was thrilled for those who got the opportunity.
Especially because it was through luck of the draw, not some standard.
One morning a person who had won a fluffy robe, room service, and her hotel fees paid to stay longer after the conference "to write" was in front of me as I exited the elevator. Her hair was wet hair and she was headed to go catch the shuttle to the site where the sessions are held.
When I offered her a ride in my car she took me up on the offer.
What happened in the brief drive was a, "Who's on first?" comedy bit.
No, I'm not going to tell you what happened.
But we laughed.
No writing was included.
Going someplace where you get to be human with another humans
and share (sometimes silly) moments is so gratifying.
Sure, I paid money for the fees, lodging, gas, and extras to be in this setting - but there's plenty of library, recreation/senior center,
and community events that are free where people
can have camaraderie around their common interests.
Have you found a place to celebrate your interests, with no agenda?
Could you create a place?
Peace by with you,
Jen Pen
