![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Today was the Western PA SCBWI conference, which I had gone to the past two years: the first year, I had a fabulous time; last year, a pretty good time yet perhaps not worth the registration fee. I thought I wouldn't go this year, until I got the brochure and saw that Bruce Coville was going to be the keynote speaker (not to mention would be leading one of the workshops, all about writing fantasy for children).
Well dang. Finally there's a book/writing event in town that is actually featuring someone in my genre and age range of choice, a highly prolific and well-respected (dare we say Classic?) writer at that. I say this with the caveat that while I'm CERTAIN I have read some of his books in my childhood, I can't actually remember which ones (PRETTY sure I read My Teacher is an Alien), but that's beside the point. It's still someone whose work is actually somewhat related to my own, AND WHO IS GOOD AT IT, so the more I thought about it, the more I realized I could NOT LIVE WITH MYSELF if I skipped the conference this year.
To shake things up a bit this year I decided to submit a chapter for the manuscript critiques, because, after all, I HAD recently rewritten the first chapter of Ian and it could use a professional eye (note: link goes to a not-as-good draft of what I actually submitted), and it conveniently happened to be exactly five pages long (the exact number of pages you were supposed to submit), so heck, that would be a new experience. But then I thought, wouldn't it suck if they scheduled my manuscript critique RIGHT during Bruce Coville's fantasy workshop? Critique slots WERE first come, first served, so the chance was certainly there. I decided it couldn't HURT to add a note in my cover letter saying If-at-all-possible-please-pretty-please-don't-let-me-miss-Bruce-Coville's-fantasy-workshop-since-that-was-my-whole-reason-for-coming. After all, it was Kathy Ayres who was doing this scheduling, and I once spent half a year of my life devoting every ounce of my creative energy to one of her books, so perhaps she had a soft spot in her heart for me and would listen to my request.
So I arrived at the conference and checked out the critique schedules and discovered that yes, my critique time in no way conflicted with Bruce Coville's fantasy workshop. This is primarily because my critique was with Bruce Coville.
(To get an accurate understanding of this, I should explain that I could have been critiqued by any of 8 people, most of whom were speakers at the conference. But it was more than just a 1 in 8 chance, because Bruce Coville had only five critique slots scheduled, far less than any of the other seven people).
I stepped into the ballroom where the opening speeches would be happening, and saw Bruce Coville talking to Pat Easton RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME in fact, and I suddenly felt totally embarrassed. Bruce Coville had read the first chapter of Ian! Bruce Coville was PASSING JUDGMENT on Ian! What if Bruce Coville thought it was a ridiculous amateur pile of crap? Or possibly worse, what if Bruce Coville quite liked it, but thought that strange British comic book geek kid was a blight upon an otherwise lovely work? There can be no emotional recovery from a Billy-dissing, particularly from a respected master in the field. I mean, obviously I was prepared for criticism if I submitted the chapter: that was the POINT. But I was prepared for criticism from some faceless editor type, not FREAKIN' BRUCE COVILLE!
But I am happy to report that Bruce Coville ENJOYED MY CHAPTER. Not just tolerated, ENJOYED. Hah, and you (not counting Emily) didn't want to read it last April! Even Bruce Coville liked it, :P! Now, obviously he didn't say it was perfect: he had some good suggestions for things that need fixing up that I think I can do, and one very big issue that will be a lot harder to fix but if I can actually find a way to do it would be really cool (possibly even deep). And that, after all, is why I wanted a critique. But when one of the established greats of the field tells you you're doing all right? THAT'S a bonus.
Now, good self-esteem requires you to not have to rely on others to tell you you're okay, but sometimes the boost of that really does help. And I needed a boost like that. Because I do so little writing nowadays, and too much negatively-comparing-myself-to-everything-else-out-there, and have so many housemom issues demanding my attention, I've had very poor self-esteem in this area lately, so much that I doubted my even trying anymore-- that maybe I'm not supposed to be a writer after all, after all these years of thinking I was. Even though this thought made me DEPRESSED, which should have been a clue that maybe it's WRONG, I thought that was just me being a wannabe dreamer and I needed to focus on other things. But getting an A-OK from a household name? Kinda knocks some sense into you. And then there was the rest of the conference too, particularly the long-awaited fantasy workshop: all a series of ideas that resonated in my head and heart, as if saying "Hey, this is YOU they're talking about! Recognize it?"
So was it worth the registration fee? I don't know-- I am, after all, a phenomenal cheapskate. But if I can manage to hold onto this good feeling, or at least store it in a convenient place so I can pull it out again whenever I need it, it MIGHT just keep me motivated enough to accomplish something besides TALK about my stories. In the long run, it might just pay for itself. And I mean, more than just monetarily.
Well dang. Finally there's a book/writing event in town that is actually featuring someone in my genre and age range of choice, a highly prolific and well-respected (dare we say Classic?) writer at that. I say this with the caveat that while I'm CERTAIN I have read some of his books in my childhood, I can't actually remember which ones (PRETTY sure I read My Teacher is an Alien), but that's beside the point. It's still someone whose work is actually somewhat related to my own, AND WHO IS GOOD AT IT, so the more I thought about it, the more I realized I could NOT LIVE WITH MYSELF if I skipped the conference this year.
To shake things up a bit this year I decided to submit a chapter for the manuscript critiques, because, after all, I HAD recently rewritten the first chapter of Ian and it could use a professional eye (note: link goes to a not-as-good draft of what I actually submitted), and it conveniently happened to be exactly five pages long (the exact number of pages you were supposed to submit), so heck, that would be a new experience. But then I thought, wouldn't it suck if they scheduled my manuscript critique RIGHT during Bruce Coville's fantasy workshop? Critique slots WERE first come, first served, so the chance was certainly there. I decided it couldn't HURT to add a note in my cover letter saying If-at-all-possible-please-pretty-please-don't-let-me-miss-Bruce-Coville's-fantasy-workshop-since-that-was-my-whole-reason-for-coming. After all, it was Kathy Ayres who was doing this scheduling, and I once spent half a year of my life devoting every ounce of my creative energy to one of her books, so perhaps she had a soft spot in her heart for me and would listen to my request.
So I arrived at the conference and checked out the critique schedules and discovered that yes, my critique time in no way conflicted with Bruce Coville's fantasy workshop. This is primarily because my critique was with Bruce Coville.
(To get an accurate understanding of this, I should explain that I could have been critiqued by any of 8 people, most of whom were speakers at the conference. But it was more than just a 1 in 8 chance, because Bruce Coville had only five critique slots scheduled, far less than any of the other seven people).
I stepped into the ballroom where the opening speeches would be happening, and saw Bruce Coville talking to Pat Easton RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME in fact, and I suddenly felt totally embarrassed. Bruce Coville had read the first chapter of Ian! Bruce Coville was PASSING JUDGMENT on Ian! What if Bruce Coville thought it was a ridiculous amateur pile of crap? Or possibly worse, what if Bruce Coville quite liked it, but thought that strange British comic book geek kid was a blight upon an otherwise lovely work? There can be no emotional recovery from a Billy-dissing, particularly from a respected master in the field. I mean, obviously I was prepared for criticism if I submitted the chapter: that was the POINT. But I was prepared for criticism from some faceless editor type, not FREAKIN' BRUCE COVILLE!
But I am happy to report that Bruce Coville ENJOYED MY CHAPTER. Not just tolerated, ENJOYED. Hah, and you (not counting Emily) didn't want to read it last April! Even Bruce Coville liked it, :P! Now, obviously he didn't say it was perfect: he had some good suggestions for things that need fixing up that I think I can do, and one very big issue that will be a lot harder to fix but if I can actually find a way to do it would be really cool (possibly even deep). And that, after all, is why I wanted a critique. But when one of the established greats of the field tells you you're doing all right? THAT'S a bonus.
Now, good self-esteem requires you to not have to rely on others to tell you you're okay, but sometimes the boost of that really does help. And I needed a boost like that. Because I do so little writing nowadays, and too much negatively-comparing-myself-to-everything-else-out-there, and have so many housemom issues demanding my attention, I've had very poor self-esteem in this area lately, so much that I doubted my even trying anymore-- that maybe I'm not supposed to be a writer after all, after all these years of thinking I was. Even though this thought made me DEPRESSED, which should have been a clue that maybe it's WRONG, I thought that was just me being a wannabe dreamer and I needed to focus on other things. But getting an A-OK from a household name? Kinda knocks some sense into you. And then there was the rest of the conference too, particularly the long-awaited fantasy workshop: all a series of ideas that resonated in my head and heart, as if saying "Hey, this is YOU they're talking about! Recognize it?"
So was it worth the registration fee? I don't know-- I am, after all, a phenomenal cheapskate. But if I can manage to hold onto this good feeling, or at least store it in a convenient place so I can pull it out again whenever I need it, it MIGHT just keep me motivated enough to accomplish something besides TALK about my stories. In the long run, it might just pay for itself. And I mean, more than just monetarily.
