While hunting for a topic for today, a couple of things were suggested to me—posting a love scene written in lolcat-ese or a post on the upcoming RWA National Conference—if I’m going, and why or why not.
Hero: Want!
Heroine: UR doing it wrong!
So anyway, last year I tried to assemble my reasons for never having an attended Nationals, and it all still applies—with the added reason of airlines being a horror show.
Top 10 Reasons I’ve Never Been to an RWA National Conference
10. I’m shy, and paying several thousands dollars so I can hide behind the potted palms isn’t my husband’s idea of a good investment.
9. When I googled “business casual attire”, jeans, Crocs and a t-shirt reading Canadian Grand Prix 1993 didn’t come up.
8. One coffee carafe per table? Please.
7. I’d have to buy a suitcase. (If you attended the New England chapter’s conference several years back and saw the woman with the Harry Potter school backpack, that was me.)
6. Breaking news from the editor panel: They’re looking for fresh new voices!
5. I’m always last on the family list to get new glasses, so reading nametags would require having my face too close to too many breasts.
4. I’d need a roommate or several to afford the trip, but—theoretically—if I did snore like a nitrous-fueled chainsaw, I wouldn’t want all of Romanceland to know it.
3. Breaking news from the agent panel: Editors are looking for fresh new voices!
2. Too many people know I’m a cheap drunk and deathly afraid of chicken feet. Not a good combination.
1. The conference chicken doesn’t come with cool little movie-themed toys.
With conference season in full swing, anybody have advice for the socially reserved? Tips for hiding shyness, if not overcoming it? If you’ve never been, is it a financial thing, or do you feel more comfortable socializing online, with the backspace and edit buttons in play?
Related posts:
I’m a GH finalist and not going, much to the horror of many. Reasons: work, money, childcare, and this odd notion I have that I wouldn’t fit in, since apparently the rest of the T-shirt, backpack, and “I can haz chickin nuggets?” set is also taking a pass.
Oh, and the only evening-appropriate dress I own is backless, and even thinking about wearing it guarantees an outbreak of backne. *shudder*
As for overcoming shyness, I refer you back to your #2…
Hey. Does this mean my tee shirt, backpack and “can haz coffee” jokes will make me a fresh new voice in SF?
And what is this about evening dresses? Are you kidding me? Does this mean I should wear my leotard and tuxedo ensemble? Because evening dresses are not in the budget. Also, the shoes would cause me to have A Moment on the order of Stanley in Going Postal.
You should come, Shan, we’ll stick together.
Er. Advice. Right. Be comfortable as much as possible, and if you have nothing to say, get everybody else around you talking.
So, I can work around the coffee thing. I travel with my own.
Conference dress code? I make my daughter vet my outfits before I go. Besides, the need to fit into those black pants year after year keeps my weight under control.
One thing your list ignores? Workshops. When I became a member of RWA, I was a workshop junkie. A good conference is like a semester of graduate school taught by the best in the business and jammed into one long weekend. Cheap at the price. Yeah, you can take classes on line, but the energy and the immediacy aren’t there. At least, not for me.
Like a first date at the movies, workshops also present a low-pressure way to get to know your fellow writers. Whether you sit in the front or the back of the room, there’s likely to be someone sitting next to you who–surprise!–is interested in the same topics, maybe working on the same issues in her writing. Start with “Hi, is this seat taken?” Work your way up to “Do you know the speaker? Have you read her books?” And follow up with “What do you write?” (this is guaranteed to get a response)
The chicken feet thing? Ah, I can’t help you there.
Back in the olden days when I went to the first RWA conference–not just MY first, THE first, I was very shy. Plus, my wardrobe didn’t include a single skirt or dress.
I did go out and buy some appropriate clothes, but that didn’t really deal with the fact I was shy, and I had never attended any sort of conference.
The very first day I met Ruth Langan. She, too, had just been published. She’d never been to any sort of conference.
We’ve been friends–great, good friends–since 1981. We’ve roomed together at every RWA since. She’s the treasure I discovered at my first professional event.
I’m no longer shy–or I can put on a really good show in that area. I have a much better wardrobe. But what I learned from attending that conference was there are all these people who’re doing what I do, are interested in what I’m interested in. Are fun. Are smart. Are silly.
And that all those people will come together to teach, learn, network, party, drink and listen to each other.
It was worth the price of the ticket for me. It still is.
My reason for not going, besides financial? All the fussing about it in the Blogosphere last year. People who went made it sound like I would be treated miserably and die on my feet.
If that’s not the case, I urge bloggers to be more upbeat this year. 
I’m so glad I’m not alone! Aside from the cost of traveling cross country [not to mention how much I disdain flying], the thought of being plunged into that many parties and events makes my head spin. I had hopes of attending the RT convention this year too, but all the same reasons apply, money, the thought of leaving the house unattended for a week [leaving kids and DH home alone is like leaving the house unattended], coming up with a trunk full of costumes and fancy shoes I’d never wear again? Sorry, I just can’t break that social barrier yet. Give me time, and maybe a multi-book deal and a huge advance and I might reconsider.
Shannon, whenever next I end up going, you can bunk with me. All five of my siblings snored and talked, no, yelled in their sleep. Many of them carried on complete conversations. I can sleep through a train.
And you can hang with me too (and of course my bud Kimber An). PLEASE! See us big yappers need you shy gals so we have someone to listen to us. Sure, we might get you in a wee spot of trouble from time to time (fountains are DESIGNED to be waded in) but we all have to make sacrifices.
Not going this year. Kalen Hughes tempted me. I mean, it is Kalen, that guarantees a fun time. Unfortunately the timing isn’t right. She’ll have to jump into fountains without me.
Shan, for one thing, if you’d go, I’d be there. And no way will I ever let you hang behind the potted plants.
Second, Nora would be there.
We can all hang out at the smoking hole.
Srsly. what more do you need?
I’m not going this year and I’m already missing it. The chance to hang out with fellow authors is an incredible experience of fun and networking and fun and nonstop talking and so much fun and it’s never all the brouhaha and negativity that people blog about. Not from my perspective anyway.
You would have a blast. How long have I been telling you this?
Personally, I love going, even though at my first RWA National, I didn’t know a soul in person and I had to deal with the crazed Mary Kay convention (Dallas ‘04– woot!). I figured after I came home, if I could survive that, I could survive anything.
But then again, I know myself well– I’m generally introverted, but I do like networking and I love talking shop and it’s one of the few opportunities all year I really get to do it F2F with other
crazy peoplewriters. I love dressing up and allowing my shoe collection to come out and play. But then, when it’s over, I’m very happy to retreat to my cave, throw on my sweats and t-shirts and decompress.But you know, I’m not going to say it’s something everyone has to do or should do. Some people simply aren’t equipped for the lunacy that’s a National conference and that’s cool too. For those people, I simply suggest the smaller chapter conferences. That said, I can’t wait for National this year.
Oh, about the chicken feet…
It is simply an excuse to eat marinated chicken skin.
Yummy (all that fat) but I’m too lazy to deal with the bones.
(why I don’t eat chicken wings either)
You know, I was really freaked out by the idea of my first RWA conference. Meeting with my editor! Ack! Meeting with my agent! Ack! Who would I hang with? And when?
So I get the whole shy thing. But it ended up being so much fun and now it’s a long weekend I look forward to all year. Lots of time to hang out with my friends, to meet new people who all dig the same things I do (writing and reading romance), and NO KIDS!!!
Basically what I”m getting at is that it’s a really great time and I wouldn’t miss it for anything. (All of which is to encourage you to Go! Go! Go!)
Oh, yes, Kimber Chin, we must wade in the fountains!
If I had to leave my children at home, I’d have to find something childish to do. Most grown-ups are boring and don’t play well with others, you know. 
I used to not go to RWA conferences because of most, probably all, of the reasons people have mentioned. I totally understand those reasons since they were my own for not going, in addition to career angst.
But, other than financial and family obligations, I have to respectfully suggest the rest are just excuses and that those excuses may well be limiting your career and your growth as a writer.
The first conference I attended was NY (2002). I didn’t know a soul, but I found a roommate to help defray the cost. And it was a wonderful experience. When I got frazzled, I went somewhere quiet (there are places like that) until I wasn’t.
You are not, in fact, surrounded by strangers, but by people who understand what you do. Even if you’re shy, it’s hard to stay in that shell when you realize everyone else shares your passion. That’s an amazing environment to be in.
At conference you WILL meet people who become your friends. If you spend some time just hanging out and listening, you WILL meet people who help your career, if not directly, then just by the things they say. Don’t pass that up.
It is possible to find comfortable shoes to wear. Seriously.
And by the way, I have never worn a dress to the RITA/GH event. Nice pants and a shirt, some jewelry. that’s it.
Oh wow, must chime in on this one. Last year was my first — and I highly suggest for first timers to get the bright orange First Timer ribbon to wear on their badge. People will help you! They will guide you and talk to you and make sure you aren’t sitting around alone.
I spent many years making excuses about National, why I didn’t need to spend the money, etc. And then I went and got ENERGIZED by all the workshops, networking, seeing people whose books I loved (Nora, SEP, Rachel Gibson, etc).
It was fabulous, and so worth it. Am I going this year? You bet. Because after that conference last year, I went home determined to WRITE. Last year I was a newbie conference goer. This year, I’m a Golden Heart finalist. Other awesome things have happened for me this year too, and I’m sure it has something to do with the change in mindset I experienced by going to National.
So give it a try one of these days when it’s close to your neck of the woods. Plenty of people will help you. And you never know what kind of good things might happen to you.
And, um, ROFL on your numbers 3 & 6.
This has already been touched on – but the one thing I love about the RWA conference is that it’s the one place where I can meet/talk to people who love the genre as much as I do. Not one single person there is going to sneer, or say anything snide about bodice-rippers, female porn fantasies, or how silly/trite the genre is. Everybody there loves it as much as I do – and that’s just too frickin’ awesome for words.
That huge common ground, even amongst strangers, really has a way of combating a person’s natural shyness.
But yeah, cost. That’s a huge issue. And lordy, don’t the airlines just make you want to start a riot? I’m going to San Fran this year, because it’s close to home – but the next couple of years when RWA is on the east coast might not be doable depending on what happens to gas prices down the road…..
Shan, Darhlink. Please, still do the LOLcats love scene, it’d be a scream.
Second, one of these years, we are going to do RWA. We can hang together and discuss how the heck the hotel keeps their potted plants free from dust.
I’d go for the workshops, not much the socializing, but I’m sure just being there, around people who do what I do, love what I love and are willing to “talk shop” will drag even the most introverted from the shell. Regardless, take a look ahead at one that’s a reasonable travel distance and let me know. I’d bunk with ya.
I’ve never been to RWA, but I’ve been to at least 10 BEAs, ALAs, and assorted other conferences.
I’m not shy so much as I have a hard time introducing myself to a group of total strangers. Booksellers, authors, publishers, and librarians are some of the nicest, most welcoming group of people out there.
The reason I love going to conventions is that I have “convention friends”. People whom I met at a particular conference and have become friends with–we see each other about once per year, email all year long, and call on each other when in need advice, information, or, sometimes, a chat with someone who lives in another town/state/country.
The most bizarre experience in all my conference days was when I met a woman who worked in the office building next to mine. We’d worked next door to each other for three years before meeting at a library conference 1500 miles from home. We have been friends for the past ten years. If we hadn’t met at that conference so far from home, we may not have ever met.
Last year was my first Nationals, and I was struck by how friendly everyone was. Everyone smiled, nodded or said hello as we passed each other. The positive energy in the hotel was just amazing. (And I said glowing things about it in my online journal, so Kimber An, you’re just reading the wrong ones!
)
Some tips: If you’re a member of a local chapter, see who else is going–ready-made group to hang out with. Ditto if you’re on a discussion forum like this one, Romance Divas, etc. Many of them plan a get-together. Or just hook up with another shy friend–it’s easier to walk into a room with someone you know at your side.
I would love to go, but it means crossing the Atlantic and then some… So finances are the biggest hurdle.
I would love to go. I’ve been to local conferences and always come away exhausted but energized. Money is the big factor for me. Next year though, it’s closer to my home. Our local chapter is talking about taking a bus. It will be much cheaper than driving or flying if enough of us go in together and we won’t have to worry about parking in DC. Hope you all have fun this year.
I was registered this year and everything, and then I had to cancel. *Very* disappointing, but we’re moving August 1 and so that kind of had to come first, unfortunately! But I definitely plan to go next year. The only other National I’ve been to was in 2000, when I was a GH Finalist and never met one single live, breathing RWA member before. Scary, but everyone was so friendly and I had a good time. Admittedly, socialising isn’t always my thing, but the workshops were fantastic, the luncheon speakers great, and the GH/Rita ceremony a thrill, even though I didn’t win.
Jumping in fountains? Me? Maybe if said fountain was filled with gin and limes . . .
I do love conference though, but then I’m very outgoing. I enjoy the energy, the people, the workshops, the networking, the whole BUZZ of the event.
You meet the most amazing people (hello Mel-O-Drama, I miss you!) and you have grand adventures with total strangers (get your minds out of the gutter!) and if you’re very lucky you get to have a fan girl moment in an elevator or at a luncheon table.
I love going to Nationals, and here are my Top 10 reasons for going five years in a row:
10. I bunk with the same friend every year, and since I moved across the country to Alaska, this is the only time we get to see one another. We have a blast at the Harlequin pajama party every year!
9. I make new friends every year, and when I go back, it’s like one big reunion weekend. It’s a great reminder that although I have chosen a solitary profession, I am not alone.
8. I am inspired by the workshops I attend, and always leave the conference with at least a half dozen new plot ideas sketched out, as well as a real determination to be that “fresh new voice” the editors and agents keep talking about…
7. I am inspired by the professionalism of writers like Nora Roberts, Jane Ann Krentz, and Susan Elizabeth Phillips, who take the business of writing romance seriously.
6. I enjoy going to the general membership meetings and discovering/discussing the issues relevant to our field and genre, and the conflicts that affect the ways in which we perceive and interact with one another online.
5. It’s educational: I learn just as much about what not to do as what to do if I want to be a professional writer instead of a teacher who writes in her spare time.
4. I learn about new trends in the publishing industry (like eBooks) and the steps our industry is taking to address those trends.
3. I come home with a lot of lovely new books, and occasionally, I discover a new writer I absolutely love (2006: Sarah Addison Allen)—or gain a fresh perspective on one that I’ve grown disenchanted with…
2. It’s inspiring to see all of those who have been successful in selling their work during the previous year, and it encourages me to keep writing, keep writing, keep writing.
1. The luncheon/awards ceremony speakers are almost without exception the highlight of the conferences for me; I walk away feeling rejuvenated and excited to get to work.
It was at Nationals that I realized that romance writers can have a real impact on reader’s lives: I’ve heard moving stories about how reading romance novels have provided hope, solace, and companionship when they were sorely needed.
Going to Nationals reminds me of why I read romance, as well as why I write it. Any year that I can swing it financially, I’ll be there…and I’d love to see all of you there, too!
UGH! It should read: “reading romance novels has provided hope…” etc. Sorry; I hit the “submit” button before I had a chance to edit.
Oh that was hysterical.
I’m not going because I went last year, then I went to my local conference and decided there was no need to go to a National one again unless I was published. When I get a contract I’ll go. In the meantime I’ll stick to the local more intimate conferences where you can really get to talk to people.
I really wish they’d put Boston on the schedule.
I’ve been to the New England Chapter’s conference twice, though not in several years, and when you’re in the company of awesome chatty people (try being shy around Patricia McLinn or Holly Jacobs—not gonna happen) it’s fun, but the awkward shy times were…awkward.
But when I think about how immensely energizing I find just listening to the workshops, I imagine authors must come home from Nationals incredibly hyped up and eager to write.
I might have to add it to my writing goals. (And really, Boston hosted the DNC, surely they could host RWA).
The Harry Potter backpack’s been retired, though. I’ll be the one with the Spiderman backpack and the ginormous thermos of coffee.
Charlene, I totally get the Stanley moment. Had a few of those, it’s amazing how Pratchett can tap into human emotions that we thought we’d hidden away.
I think you should go. Just rock on up, make a scene, and then everyone can say “oh that’s the woman that wouldn’t conform, she’s an anarchist!” Always wanted to be an anarchist…
Besides put someone else’s name on your tag and you’ll be incognito… no one will recognise you especially if you wear fax glasses and a false nose… Now we’re talking Nanny Ogg style espionage tactics..
I’m missing national this year, thanks to other travel obligations, and I’m really starting to feel sad about it. I’ll miss the energy, the passion, the long talks late into the night with my dearest old friends. I’ll miss planning our careers into the next century and sharing tidbits of news and stories and jewelry.
I’ll miss hearing the tales of new sales and first time attendees. I’ll miss running into someone in the ladies room who is shaking with delight over meeting a writer she has loved for years, and the happiness of the winners of all the awards.
Even your shy, this belongs to you and it’s worth every penny. Maybe it isn’t possible every year, but there are a million ways to cut costs and make it work on the years when the conference is close by, and really, I promise you will not be left out if you plan to go and make friends with people who like the same kind of books you like. ALL writers are shy (or at least most of us), but going to the national conference can enfold you in your tribe, if you let it.
Wow, I’m sad I have to miss this year!
I have to respectfully suggest the rest are just excuses and that those excuses may well be limiting your career and your growth as a writer.
This is the argument that finally convinced me to attend my first writer’s conference. I’m not going to make RWA (this year), but will be going to the Women’s Fiction Festival in Matera, Italy at the end of September. I’m already nervous about the idea of going alone and not knowing anyone there, but promise to try hard not to skulk behind the potted plants…
I went to my first RWA nationals two years ago. I’m going again. Yes, it’s expensive. I have my standard conference type wardrobe (I live in Central Florida, so I don’t really own much beyond shorts and tank tops, and Tevas), but I’ve accumulated some basics.
And I bought my tickets and made my reservations before I found out I was a Daphne finalist. (And then I wondered why I didn’t enter the Ritas!). But I work in isolation. All day. Conferences give the networking opportunities I can’t get in my spare bedroom. I get to talk to people who ‘get’ the life.
I hardly knew a soul at my first conferences. (RWA Nationals wasn’t the first I attended, but it was the biggest.) People are friendly. And I met more people by NOT knowing many others, because we didn’t travel the conferene joined at the hip.
However, I also admit that it’s a huge sensory overload at times, and I spent plenty of ‘down time’ alone in my room.
I live in SF but decided not to go because BICHOK is what I need concentrate on before I can seriously consider anything else about a writing career.
I also loathe the crowds and smells of downtown and although I would have taken conference days off from work, just buying the workshop mp3s and handout book is cheaper and less work than actual attendence. Besides, I’m enjoying the new mini laptop I bought with my conference fees
I know it’ll be another 8-15 years before SF hosts again, so any Nationals will be a treat reserved for when I actually start submitting and can make use of agent/editor appointments should I get any.
For sheer fun, I plan to attend Romance Slam Jam and Lori Foster’s Reader Author Get Together in 2009.