by Michelle Monkou-Samuels
The 1998 RWA National Conference “Golden State of Mind” began in Anaheim on Monday, July 27. This annual event draws the major players in the industry, including fans. I met three women who, together, schedule their vacation around the conference each year so they can meet their favorite authors. They have no interest in writing or becoming members- that’s loyalty.:
My trek to the west began at 6 a.m. The long flight to the West Coast left me exhausted, especially after traveling for hours with an airline that only provided nuts and yucky snacks (like beef jerky). Once I checked into my hotel, I had a second wind and hurriedly made my way to the Goody Room for books, gifts, and information. I moved through the room like a starved pup; never mind the stack of unread books from last year’s conference and the two baskets of books I won at the WRW retreat, all in their original piles in my home. Boy, did I load up. I had visions of myself falling onto the luggage carousel when I tried to claim my luggage.
WRW had good representation among the other hundreds of RWA members. Old friends caught up on each other’s lives. New friendships were made as we shared dreams, fears, and accomplishments in the industry. Workshops targeted a range of skills and interests from the general track to the publishing track.
Julie Garwood and Anne Stuart, keynote speakers at the luncheons, were bonuses to an already fun-filled conference. If we all followed Anne Stuart’s zany words of wisdom and zest for life, we probably wouldn’t have as many neuroses and personality disorders, and would remember to enjoy life in our creative worlds.
She entered the room with an entourage which included our own zany Cathy Maxwell and Laura Hayden. Cathy donned a boa and dark shades as she sashayed to the front, while Laura pretended to be the secret service agent escorting her ward.
Despite the numerous activities and getting reacquainted with friends, something was missing. It would have been nice to have that pink ribbon attached to my nametag signifying “First Sale.” Or, maybe it was that dreaded jet lag that made me sleepy by 8 or 9 o’clock at night and wide awake at 4:30 in the morning.
All that changed when it came time for my editors’ appointments. I had practiced with friends, in front of the mirror, and in my head. Yet, when I sat in front of one editor, my mind went blank and I had to whip out my letter-size yellow page, apologizing profusely as I launched into reading my story. Despite my amateurish behavior, she actually listened, smiled, and requested the entire manuscript, providing tips on how to make the inner conflict more compelling. I came out floating on the good vibes.
That night it was time for the Golden Heart and Rita awards. “Everyone give a golfer’s clap for our Golden Heart nominees: Pam Poulsen and Heidi Betts, and Rita nominees: Mary Jo Putney, Ruth Glick, Patricia Gaffney, and Nora Roberts” (my sincere apologies if I neglected to mention someone). Sitting in the audience, I couldn’t help but visualize that special day when my book would be nominated for a Rita. The pride and sisterhood I felt made me yell madly whenever a WRW member was mentioned. The prophetic sense that fulfillment of my dream was close made me heady.
But, oh, so quick, it was over. Good-byes were the hardest, but thank goodness for e-mail. Some writers and I have created a support group called the “Soul Sistas” with our sisterhood spanning the West Coast in California through Missouri to Maryland. Together, we plan to take one day at a time to maintain that Golden State of Mind.
These words were printed on a card that was given to each attendee at the awards. I share it with those who couldn’t be there:
“The dream is mine. I hold it tightly. It sustains me. Guides me to my chair and sits me down. Keeps my fingers flying across the keyboard. Words pour from my heart for I know that my heart speaks to another’s. Alone and separate, we bridge the distance between us finding common ground in the warmth of the most basic human emotion-love.
The dream is power. It’s the gift of imagination. The ability to translate feelings into words that reach deep inside each of us, an awesome legacy bridging generations with its promise of hope and love...”
See you in Chicago next year!
