Conference season is pretty much over for 2008. There’s a few non-romance conferences, like Bouchercon this fall, but for the most part all the biggies are done. It’s a time to reflect on what we’ve learned, what we loved, what didn’t work for us, and remember that in the end, conferences are primarily for networking, learning about craft and business (even us published authors still have a lot to learn), meeting with agents and editors, and even a bit of promotion. It doesn’t hurt to have new bookmarks printed or a few books to give away!
I wanted to take this time to reflect on a larger problem that was only highlighted at the RWA conference, but really is not just a conference issue. It’s a blog issue, a local meeting issue, an industry issue. In fact, it extends to all facets of life–family, friends, work, church, school. That is, giving people the benefit of the doubt.
In this era where celebrities are caught with their pants down, without make-up, looking too fat or too skinny or seen whispering intimately with another woman’s husband, we often make snap judgments about their lifestyle or what is going on. The cliche “a picture says a thousand words” is true–but in the era of photoshop or carefully framed shots, we might not be seeing the whole picture and thus basing our judgment on misinformation.
This reality of the modern information era was really highlighted during my years working in the State Legislature. The obvious example–reporters misquoting someone–happens more than I had ever thought. I could sit in an interview and know exactly what was said, and dropping a couple words can make the subject either seem more brilliant than he really is, or a total idiot. In committee hearings, I could listen to hours of testimony and be moved beyond words, but when you read about it in the paper, you get the one idiot who said something stupid and that’s the “quote” and result of the hearing.
In the writing world, there are authors who never participate in conferences. Perhaps they’ve never been, or used to go but don’t find them valuable, or are so introverted they don’t want to be around 2,500 other writers. In RWA, we have career professionals outside of writing–lawyers, doctors, teachers, scientists, cops–the list goes on and on. We have career authors, new authors, midlist authors, unpublished authors. We have people at every level of their writing career. There are agents, editors, publicists, bloggers, reporters, family, the list goes on. There are women with young kids, grown kids, no kids. Grandmothers and daughters. Black, white, Asian, and every other race. Christian, Jewish and Atheists. Married, divorced, single. Republicans, Democrats and Independents. Americans, British, Australians, Canadians, and more. We are diverse in ways few organizations are. We’re united by one thing: writing romance.
But because we are so diverse, and we don’t know each other well–outside of a few close friends or an annual sitdown at the conference bar–we can build up an image and then that image is distorted, we balk.
A favorite author who you picked up at the airport at your last RWA meeting only three months ago doesn’t remember your name; worse, ignores you completely when she sees you.
A friend doesn’t wave back when you see them across the lobby.
Your chapter member–who you see every month–doesn’t remember you’re in the same local chapter.
Your agent ignores you and goes off with who you believe is her favorite client.
Your editor takes you to lunch, but Jane Smith to dinner. Worse, your editor doesn’t remember you by sight.
Our reaction is to be sad, angry, flustered, slighted. We were wronged, but maybe we can’t articulate why we feel wronged. Or we articulate it, giving voice to our frustration, seeking justification that we were slighted in some manner. Often, the slight gets spun out of control as the rumor mill starts churn.
The rumor weed–for those who’ve watched Veggie Tales can attest!–can grow under the poisoned water of perceived slights, wrongs, or repeated rumors. It grows and can tear apart a person, a group, an organization.
But what really is happening is that we aren’t giving someone the benefit of the doubt.
Yes, an author you picked up from JFK and drove two hours to your chapter conference should absolutely remember your name.
But what if she had just gotten off the phone with her daughter who had a miscarriage the night before?
Yes, a writing buddy should acknowledge your greeting–it’s only polite.
But what if she had just discovered her suitcase–with not only her Rita dress but her laptop with the book due Monday–had been lost by the airlines?
Your editor should know you by sight–she has your author photo, doesn’t she?
But what if she didn’t recognize you with the new blonde ‘do and glasses? Or you’ve never met her, but you’ve talked on the phone for three years and she knows you are Jane Smith . . . but maybe she left her glasses in the hotel room and your badge is blurry?
Every day, people have small and large problems that they have to deal with and sometimes, being “on” constantly at a conference is hard, especially when the problems seem overwhelming. What if your husband dropped your daughter off at one place, and there’s a small family emergency and you try to reach your daughter, but she’s not there, she’s not answering her cell phone, and none of her friends know where she is? Would you be making small talk with a friend?
At this last conference, I know people who had to deal with some pretty tough stuff while trying to fulfilling their obligations at the conference.
. . . A bestselling author whose mother had a heart attack the night before, but she wasn’t told until she arrived at the conference.
. . . An editor whose long-time, elderly cat went missing.
. . . An author who learned via email that a close friend had cancer.
. . . A writer who was woken up late nearly every night of the conference by her husband because his sleep was interrupted taking care of their child and he wanted her help.
These aren’t things that someone is going to just offer up. We’re mostly women so we tend to want to know everything and we want to help fix it. It’s hardwired into us, we think that talking about the problems and commiserating is a solution. And I believe it is–just not with everyone in the world.
People get jet-lagged and aren’t at their best and brightest. People can be preoccupied, with good news or bad news or maybe even no news. People are nervous meeting their agent or editor for the first time. When I first went to the Reno conference, six months before my first book came out, with my JD Robb book in hand, waiting in line . . . I put the book in front of Nora to sign and inserted my foot in my mouth. Something about her inspiring me to keep my ass in the chair. Oh, yes, I said the “A” word. I’d wanted to say something more about her setting a good example, yada yada, but instead I blurted out the first thing I thought of. (Fortunately, I figured, Nora Roberts meets so many people at every conference she couldn’t possibly have remembered my name even if she did read it on my badge.)
This goes beyond personal connections and into email, but this post is already getting too long! I respond to all my email, usually within a week, but sometimes I get backlogged. Or, when I was moving, I was without Internet access for a couple days, moving, and on deadline . . . and was hugely backlogged. Sometimes cyberspace can eat a message and the intended recipient didn’t receive it. No one should assume that just because someone didn’t respond in a day, week, or month that they even received the message. And sarcasm? Sarcasm often falls flat in written form, especially in email. But I could do a whole blog about misunderstanding the intent of information emails.
I’m not saying anything new or noteworthy. But a few mutterings I heard at conference about this author or that editor or such-and-such a writer upset me. How do we know that the person we’re criticizing didn’t just have bad news? How do we know the person actually saw us? Or maybe she was late to her editor meeting–and she’d never met her editor before?
Things happen, and we’re not always at 100% all the time. We all know this, but sometimes we think that at conference everyone should be completely with it whenever they are out of their hotel room.
This is why I always try to give people the benefit of the doubt. I rarely know the whole story. Maybe the author really is a complete bitch, but most of the time, I really do believe something is going on and my perception of what is or isn’t happening is skewed.
I’m sure there are plenty of stories out there where you made an assumption that was wrong, or where someone assumed the worst about you based on part of the picture. Maybe if you all share your stories, everyone, including me, will take perceived slights in stride next time around.
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What a fabulous post! I know I’m sometimes too quick to rush to judgement, so these wise words are pure gold to me.
Many thanks!
A silly one:
A few years ago, some idiots spent a couple of months sporadically writing grafitti on the wall between the road and my family home.
It’s pebbledash, so hard to clean, and it happened often enough that my mum bought a spray can of special stuff that took the marks off easily.
So, happened again, and my mum and dad – who are elderly, most respectable pillars of community – came back from cleaning it off, killing themselves laughing.
Someone coming down the road had seen them, beside the wall, with spray can to hand, and – you can see where they were coming from – assumed they were a pair of elderly hoodlums.
I agree with this post so much. It’s so easy to feel slighted and, in my experience, it is very rarely intended. Wherever possible, I agree, we should try to make allowances, and remember the times we have had less than perfect manners. But I also think, when in a community, it helps to have a friend outside that community with whom you can blow off steam. Sometimes you need to get something out of your system and doing it with someone who neither knows, nor has any relationship with, the people who have annoyed you, is the safe way. That way, when you have buried the hatchet and made friends again with that person, you won’t have to worry about things you said in anger ever getting back to them – or about their relationship with the person you complained to being ruined. Naturally, if you follow this principle, you can never say anything in anger online. Because there is no such thing as private in cyber-space. Restraint, self-control and compassion seem out of fashion these days and the first two (at least) have never been my long suit. But as part of an ongoing effort to mature, I am trying to cultivate them. it may be the only worthwhile contribution I can make to a more peaceful world. And that seems a worthy cause.
For people who feel slighted because someone does not remember/recognize them…. Definitely give the person a break, because the ability to recall others’ names, faces, details, is a talent, which people have in widely varying degrees. I can remember names, and I can remember, a little more vaguely, faces, but I have a horrible time connecting the two. I’ve always had this problem, but it’s gotten worse as I’ve gotten older. It took me over a year to be able to connect the names and faces of the people of the small church we go to, even though I see them three times a week, and I only made progress with this after we put out a pictorial directory! Sometimes, now, I’ll just ask the person her name, but it took awhile to get up the confidence to do that. Maybe the person who snubbed you is like me, and too embarassed to approach you. Approach her–give her your name and tell her how she knows you–even if she is your editor! You’ll take the pressure off of her, and be gratified to learn that she does actually remember and like you!
So true. The preparation and excitement of RWA raises everyone’s emotional antennas. At conference, I’ve seen people desperately hurt and crying sometimes, because of some small event/word/slight. Sometimes the person was merely in a hurry/late for a meeting, rushing by them. But I think the main point to keep in perspective is that everyone is excited, terribly emotional, and maybe tired. Hype can emphasize the normal. It is truly best to take frequent breaks to restore self normalcy to personal POVs.
Standing up and cheering!!
I have such a horrible memory
that if you paid me a million dollars
to tell you what 7 X 8 was,
I couldn’t.
(And I’m a 37 year old accountant.)
Last year I forgot my own birthday.
I was wondering why
everyone was calling me
(too busy to pick up the phone).
Now my best bud reminds me
(that is why she’s my best bud).
I know I hurt people
by not remembering their names.
I KNOW who they are,
I KNOW I’d do anything in the world for them,
but sometimes the name thing,
it draws a blank.
Bless you! What a great post. As a first-timer at RWA, I was a bundle of nerves. When I met you and Madeline Hunter, I felt as though I said the wrong thing. I’m pretty sure it was memorable. (groaning) Sorry!
Thanks for the reminder that we all have bad days and “oops” moments.
Luckily Madeline Hunter is a doll. I’m sure it will be fine. I sat right next to her at my first literacy signing and she leaned over and said “Kalen Hughes, I know exactly who you are.” with a significant glance at my debut book Lord Sin (note: she had a book called Lord of Sin just the year before; in fact, it was sitting out on the table right next to my book!). I stammered “I know, I told them.” And she laughed and started telling me her own horror stories of covers and titles gone wrong.
This bit I struggle with is feeling like Little Girl Lost (or Little Girl Left Out). I have to sternly remind myself not to take it personally when I’m not invited to join a group of girlfriends for dinner, or when I find out that my editor is having meals with lots of other writers and I didn’t even warrant a cup of coffee. Mostly it’s not personal. Sh*t happens.
So true. I had several people notice my red eyes and try to find out why I’d been crying. It was an allergic reaction! No drama at all!
Good post. A lot of things happen that folks might not know about. Most of us are private people and don’t wear our feelings on our sleeves. I can be looking directly at someone (so they think) but don’t see them because my mind is a million miles away.
There have been times when someone will tell me, I saw you driving to such and such place and I blew my horn and/or waved but you didn’t acknowledge me. More than likely I had no idea the person was blowing at me and I most definately didn’t see them.
Absolutely great post! But then you already know I love you (because I think I stammered that a few times at conference!
)
I had one of these issues myself at conference. Shortly after arriving I discovered my Dad had had a heart attack and they scheduled him for doubly bypass surgery the Thursday we were at conference. Other than my roommates, I told no one and just kept going.
By Saturday morning I was overwhelmed by everything (it was my first time at Nationals) and broke down about what an awful impression I must have made on the agents and others I’d met.
By Sunday, I took an imagined slight and was very hurt, but talked to the person about it, who then was very hurt because she never realised I was taking thing badly (that she felt comfortable enough around me to be her teasing self – and as one who is generally like that as well, I normally would have seen that, but my heart was already wounded by other stuff). If only I had talked to her right away instead of assuming for days that she disliked me.
In a week full of high emotions it is so easy to take thing the wrong way. I am sensitive anyway so I struggle with that. However, your post brings home all the stuff that really might be going on. What a great reminder!
What an amazing post! RWA SF was the first time for me and I have to say that everyone I met was so nice and simply amazing. No one walked away from me or decided I was too boring. And when some people ame up to me first and said they were so happy to finally meet me, I almost broke down in tears of happiness.
)
I think there were many high emotions for those few days and I hope they were ones of happiness, just like the tears I shed by Friday (I blame exhaustion!
Great post, Allison! It’s good to remember these things because it’s easy to feel slighted or hurt.
In fact, I said hello to you somewhere in the vicinity of the business center. You immediately responded, but I knew you didn’t recognize me and you weren’t close enough to read my badge. I wasn’t in the least bothered by it.
I figure you have lots of people talking to you and can’t remember them all.
OTOH, one of my chapter mates, a fabulous woman who is pretty well known, leaned over to tell me at the RITA ceremony that she was sorry she wasn’t talking much but she had laryngitis. I hadn’t thought a thing of her silence, but I’m sure there could have been someone who spoke to her and was hurt not to get her usual effervescent response.
I feel like I may have been a bit short with a friend when I was in a hurry to get into the ceremony by my appointed time — we’d been told that if we failed to get through the VIP door early enough, we’d be on our own for finding seating. I was distracted and worried. She says it was fine, but I still feel like I could have been more gracious.
Thanks Portia. I have to remind myself of this sometimes as well, particularly in emails when you can’t see the person’s face or know if they’re joking or being sarcastic. I personally like the liberal use of happy faces and winks!
I laughed out loud, Marianne! Great story. Geriatric graffiti artists. Try explaining that one to the grandkids . . .
Imelda, great points. One thing I learned in politics was something my old boss called the “LA Times Stink Test”– if you don’t want to see it on the front page of the LA Times, don’t say it. I’ve modified it some: if I don’t want my agent, editor, or readers to read it, don’t write it. I tend to be very passionate about things I believe strongly in, but I’ve had to temper that passion because it can be seen as being obnoxious or aggressive. I’m for more conciliatory now than when I was in college!
Leah, my mom has that problem. She will remember she met you, but she’ll never remember your name. The thing is, my mom is very recognizable–she’s six feet tall–and everyone remembers her, so she always feels bad when she forgets names.
Editors are people too, and sometimes I think we put them and agents on these pedestals and forget that they can be just as stressed at conference as we are. Of course, my agent and editor deserve to be on the highest pedestals in New York . . .
You’re 100% right, Cait. Where it gets out of hand, however, is when that upset person then tells everyone else about the slight, and if often gets embellished–not intentionally–in the various retellings. Like the game telephone. “Hi, Allison, how are you?” ends up twenty people later as “Allison was drunk and dancing on the table wearing a lampshade on her head and nothing else . . . “
And then there’s the humiliating fact that I can never remember Allison’s mother’s name, though I’ve met her more than once. I hate it when my brain just won’t dredge up the info I need.
Kimber, you are not alone
. . . like I said to Leah about my mom. And she was a realtor! She was more likely to remember the street address than the person who bought the house . . .
Hi Jill!!! I remember you
. . . you didn’t embarrass yourself. Well, there was that lampshade incident . . . JK! 
. . . I adore Madeleine Hunter. I probably embarrassed myself with her more than you. She’s a wise woman.
Kalen, you have a great attitude, and besides, you’re one of my favorite people. I’ll take you for a cup of coffee anytime
Whew, Theresa! We were all worried . . . JK! That’s exactly the type of situation that gets blown out of proportion, especially if no one asks you and the rumor gets spread . . .
I never honk my horn, Ebony, and I’d never think to do it if I saw someone I knew. If I heard a horn I’d think that someone thought I’d done something stupid driving, and I’d get mad because I hadn’t done anything stupid . . .
How is your dad, MG? How awful for you to be so far from home when an emergency strikes. I completely sympathize. You bring up another good point–when we’re emotionally drained, it’s really easy to take slights because we’re already on a low. We get a rejection from an agent, then a friend ignores us and we assume it’s us that’s the problem.
Hi Lynn! I am much better with names than faces, LOL. I often recognize someone, but don’t know why, but when I see their name (I have to see it, not hear it) everything clicks and I know where I know the person from.
~Hi Jill!!! I remember you . . . you didn’t embarrass yourself.~
Whew! Thanks so much, Allison. I’m so relieved!
Kalen, thanks to you, too. I remember you…
So sad I didn’t get to meet Katiebabs. Maybe next time!
Allison this is a great post. I can honestly say I don’t like conferences, because of the crowds and the cliques. I’ve been hurt by a slights at a conference, and didn’t attend this National, not because of that, but because of family. Still the slight I experienced at Dallas was meant to be mean and was very obvious. No imagination there. Because of my experience in the past, I wasn’t disappointed to miss this one. I had some envy of friends getting together, but it didn’t hurt. I was comfortable at home, with no worries. And no hurt feelings. Thanks Allison for speaking out about first impressions…Great post, as I said before.
Allison, I’m the opposite of your mother. People remember me because I’m so short. I can’t tell you how many times I nod and pretend I know people. One reason I like conferences is because of the nametags.
Couldn’t agree with you more, Allison. It’s always good to remember, especially at a conference as large as RWA that every single person there has a life outside writing and that the two will inevitably cross paths.
Thanks for the post. Food for thought for sure.
Late again, but this was a great post. The speaker at the PAN retreat on RWA addressed similar thoughts, recounting her appearance on Oprah, where things hadn’t gone according to her expectations. She’d been told that when she came on stage, she’d sit in one of 2 yellow chairs. The chairs were on the set, but before she was invited to sit, Oprah told her crew to “get the bench”. A bench was brought out, and Oprah went into the audience. Only later, after feeling that she’d done something totally wrong and was being humiliated, did she find out that “the bench” meant Oprah thought she was strong enough to carry the show herself. But she wasted precious moments (on air) worrying.
She stressed the ability to tell the difference between “facts” and “impressions” and to separate them.
Actually, Jill, I’m the one who said something stupid to you!
So see, we all have our moments, don’t we?
Bella
Great post, Allison. We writers are so emotional, sometimes we over-react and then hold onto grudges. And in the end, it only hurts us more than the other person.
In Reno I went to the PRO dinner and sat between two other PROs – one of whom I had corresponded with via email about some historical research.
Now I’m a very shy person and this writer (now published) talked is not in the least shy. She’s extremely outgoing and ended up talking over me to the person sitting on the other side of me (who is also now published they now blog together on an authors’ blog). At the time I felt very hurt and upset at being essentially ignored, but have since realized it’s clear I really need to work on putting myself out there. At conferences, introverts have to learn to be extroverts, even if it’s only for a few days.
I did hold that grudge for a while, but have since let it go. What’s the point? As you pointed out, there could have been something else going on and it was just easier for this outgoing person to talk with someone who wasn’t shy than to try to draw me out.
Thanks for the reminder that every situation isn’t always about us, that we have to consider the events going on in the lives of those around us.