As I am writing this piece, I am preparing for a writers conference I am attending in about a week. My head is spinning.
I’m trying to get my clothes together, wondering if my planned wardrobe is too casual, too comfortable or not comfortable enough, too thin for the rooms that can be too cold. How many extra outfits should I pack since I tend to be “Messy Marvin” and get food on my shirt at most every meal?
Then . . . what type of backpack or briefcase should I take? One of my classes requires a computer, so the case needs to be big enough for my laptop and charger. Am I going to be sick of carrying that around after that one class? Should I take an alternate, lighter backpack for the rest of the day? Whichever one I end up with, I need to check each crack and crevice to make sure I have business cards, mints, extra pens, a Sharpie, and a word search book in case I have some alone time and get bored.
Who gets alone time at a big writers conference? Oh well, better pack it JUST IN CASE.
I cannot forget my snacks.
What if my sugar drops between the big ol’ meals? Maybe I’ll get a craving for dark chocolate or salty snacks or a granola bar during the mid-afternoon stretch. I mean, I don’t want to waste away to nothing at a big event like this one.
Most importantly, there are my writerly things.
One sheets, proposals, samples, oh my! By the time I remembered those items, it hit me: I really don’t have an agenda for this conference.
I usually go into events like this one with certain motives in mind. I want an appointment with THAT editor. I want to pitch THIS project. I want to sign the BIG CONTRACT the first day or so and celebrate with my friends for the rest of the week.
Yeah, right.
I don’t really have ANY of those things on the goal list this time. My current proposals are in the hands of my agent, and I don’t know of anyone specific I’d like to schedule for an appointment. And contracts at conferences? I’d have a better chance of meeting Bigfoot on the walking trail.
Instead of all the stress or trying to impress others, I’m praying for God to direct my path, to show me the people He wants me to meet.
I am asking Him to show me who He wants me to encourage and who will encourage me at this point in my journey. Maybe this year is the one in which I spend a lot of time in the coffee shop (even though, contrary to writer belief, I don’t like coffee) and have meaningful—and sometimes wacky—conversations. Last year, my friends and I gathered and sang the theme song to Petticoat Junction, complete with the train sound effects.
Who could ask for more than that at a conference? And who cares if there’s pasta sauce on my shirt while I network and schmooze? Let’s go!
Carlton Hughes, represented by Cyle Young of Hartline Literary, wears many hats. By day, he is a professor of communication. On Wednesday evenings and Sunday mornings, he serves as a children’s pastor. In his “spare time,” he is a freelance writer. Carlton is an empty-nesting dad and devoted husband who likes long walks on the beach, old sitcoms, and chocolate—all the chocolate. His work has been featured in Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Dating Game, The Wonders of Nature, Let the Earth Rejoice, Just Breathe, So God Made a Dog, and Everyday Grace for Men. His latest book is Adventures in Fatherhood, co-authored with Holland Webb.
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