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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!
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