Home from Hippocamp with a Bunch of Thoughts about Writers Conferences

I’ve begun, and put aside, several drafts of a wrap-up post about my time at Hippocamp: A Conference for Creative Nonfiction Writers, in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, this past weekend. (I was both a speaker and attendee.)

Partly I hesitated because it’s getting more difficult to distill every good thing I want to say about my personal experience and history with this conference (which, since it began in 2015, has come to feel like a kind of home base). But also because I wanted my post-conference report to be something useful to any writer who happens upon it, regardless of genre, location, finances, or personal conference experiences, etc. 

During several periods in my writing life I attended no conferences, and other times I could get to just a few, dictated by a confluence of budget, geography, logistics, day-job demands, family logistics. When I could attend, I had to be picky. 

I came to understand that a conference will not make me a better writer or a more published writer by itself. But the right conference can helping make one into a writer who better knows how to identify, create, pursue, participate in, and evaluate the writing life, career, projects, and submission/publication plan that will work best for me, and make me happy.

So, I thought I’d offer this list, and hope it has some value for others. All these things line up for me with the Hippocamp conference, and by extension might help you pick conferences.

What makes a writing conference right:

. It directly, seriously, fully, and openly addresses, embraces, and celebrates the genre or category of writing most important to you. If you can find it, specialization rocks! One big reason I love Hippocamp is that it’s focused on CNF writing. Yes, I learn a lot at conferences that aren’t so specialized, but a hyper-focused event means you are with your tribe. Everything that happens, each break-out session, panel, reading, or other element is for folks who write what you write.

. Enough of what’s on offer is for writers at your skill and/or experience level. Yes, it’s good when some sessions push you to extend your reach; that’s good for learning what to aspire to. But do you want to spend all day, or most of many days, feeling either completely overwhelmed because you have no idea what the speakers are talking about, or bored and antsy because you already know and have mastered what’s being covered.

. The mix, intent, and focus of material jives with what you want and need now. Only craft-related sessions? Hands-on (“generative”) sessions? Lecture style only? Workshops (with feedback)? Presentations with opportunities for Q-and-A? Marketing/submission/querying skills?

. The size fits. I love a mid-sized conference best so I can make personal connections. Small to mid-sized events usually also foster casual, follow-up interactions with speakers and presenters at meals, breaks, and just wandering about the venue—another thing I like. (I do occasionally like a huge conference, but for very different reasons.)

. The conference organizers respect every attendee, and don’t play favorites. This is one of those intangibles that, for me, can make or break a conference experience. At Hippocamp for example, I’ve heard attendees describe the organizers in ways you might reserve for your favorite teacher, coach, or BFF: they listen, help, and care. Every person on the grounds is IN THE CLUB. (I’ve attended way too many conferences where some writers are made to feel inadequate and lesser-than because they don’t “have a book,” are not sufficiently well-connected, and find themselves feeling left out in an us-and-them kind of way.) At Hippocamp, the club is everyone in the room. Look for that.

. The fees make sense. Who wants to be someplace where you feel the conference is mostly interested in your wallet? I happen to like conference fees that also include meals, coffee, snacks and parking; offer hotel room discounts; and small goodies that make me feel welcome. If I can get that, and it also lines up with reasonable travel costs, I’m in. (Don’t go broke attending conferences.)

. Everything’s included, but there’s also an a-la-carte add-on menu. One year at Hippocamp, I paid for agent pitch sessions, other years not. Twice I took a pre-conference workshop. Choices like that can add value to your time away from home, and (for someone like me who likes to cram every hour with something useful), make the conference a more robust writerly experience.

. There’s a little bit of fun built right in. Door prizes? A casual open mic? Fun snacks? Optional, casual meal meet-ups for when it seems everyone else has made dining plans? We’re writers, not robots, and only some find it easy to organize themselves socially.

My door prize from Hippocamp!

. The conference encourages, and facilitates, continued learning beyond the time limit of each program element. I like to leave a session with something that I’ll consult later (besides my own notes) -- handouts, recommended links, the speaker’s email address or resource website, maybe something I’ve been urged to generate during the session. Even better if (as is the case with Hippocamp), I can find some speakers’ entire slide presentations on the conference website later. 

. There's a balance between too much and just enough. One day? Four days? Five break-out sessions running concurrently? Or 25 to choose from simultaneously? A crammed daily schedule or one with breaks and free (writing?) time built in? Each is likable for different reasons, by different writers. What do you like at a conference?

. The organizers want your feedback. Whether it’s a matter of listening sincerely to an in-person complaint or suggestion during the conference, or providing and urging attendees to fill out post-event surveys, I like it when speaking up about what didn’t go quite right, what was stellar, and what might be a good future addition (or deletion), feels welcomed.

I’m sure I’ve left something out. What do you love about, and look for in the conferences you attend? 


Images: Crowd illustration - Flickr/Creative Commons-openDemocracy; others, mine.

Friday Fridge Clean-Out: Links for Writers -- April 7, 2017 Edition

> Can binge watching have a writing purpose? Reedsy editor (and novelist) Andrew Lowe thinks so, at least about a certain eight shows.

> Somewhat related: I learned about Belletrist, the young actor Emma Roberts's online book clue when she was on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert. Only mildly interested, I perked up when I arrived at her website to see she'd interviewed Joan Didion about her latest book, South and West: From a Notebook.

> Good listening: an episode of the #CNF podcast features Jennifer Niesslein, founder/editor of the online essay site, Full Grown People.

> Traveling? Or trying to organize a book promotion tour? Check out "The Best Bookstore in Every State," via Real Simple and Yelp.

> Find yourself torn between devoting time to writing, and making sure you are tending to business aspects of a writing life? At Catapult, Melissa Febos asks, "Do you want to be known for your writing or your swift email responses?"

>Speaking of Melissa Febos, I heard her read from her new memoir, Abandon Me, this week at Halfway There, a newish quarterly reading series in Montclair, NJ (my literary backyard), and was impressed by how, in the middle of what she explained was a weeks-long, cross-country book tour, she made the material sound new and fresh, even  (it seemed at least ) to herself. If I ever do readings from any book of mine, I'm going to find a video of her reading, and study it.

> Looking to get involved in behind-the-scenes work at an online literary journal? Hippocampus Magazine is in need of volunteers for several different posts.

> Every week, novelist Elizabeth S. Craig compiles a long juicy list of links to writing advice and writing-related articles and posts that appeared that week on the web.

> That collective groan you heard last weekend was thousands of essay, memoir, and other nonfiction writers upset over the demise of the Lives column which will, after 19 years, no longer appear in the New York Times Sunday Magazine. (And the scratching was all of us crossing it off our publication bucket list. Sigh.)

> Three cheers for these high school student journalists who understand the value and power of fact-checking.

> Finally, from the department of that-sounds-completely-crazy-but-it's-still-(alleged)plaigarism, comes this story about how cultish hip-hop musicians apparently stole a poet's work.

Have a great weekend!

Image: Flickr/CreativeCommons-Rusty_Clark

The Post-Conference, Post-Vacation Post

Probably the smartest thing to do after a writing conference would be hurry home and burrow in, open a new document (or six!) for all the ideas that skittered across your mind while there. Or, better yet, take a solitary decompressing trip, that frees you to write and muse. I've done both of those things before.

What I hadn't done was return home, run a load of laundry, answer only the urgent emails, repack, sleep a few hours, and then set out with my family for an enforced four days of R&R—strictly away from my computer, all of us together in a small seaside house (often huddled in the A/C to escape daunting heat and humidity when not under a beach umbrella to escape frigid A/C), and on unspoken but rather clear orders from my husband not to disappear into my brain and essentially away from the moment

I had books. I had my notebook. What I didn't have was time to spread out all my notes from Hippocamp 2016 (a conference for creative nonfiction writers), and reflect, make notes, tackle follow-ups in the immediate manner I like, and to write a post-conference post.

But I'm back at my desk now (feeling of course as if I never did leave it!), so here goes.

If you read my post from the first day of activities this year, you already know how much I love this conference. You can scroll the live-at-the-time tweets, and read other post-Hippocamp coverage here and here and here, and at the official conference recap page. I'll just share some of what showed up in my notebook and program margins when I was sitting in the audience at various presentations.

First, I'll note that I was completely unprepared and overwhelmed by the lovely, positive reaction to my own session, "Writing About the Same Experience Across Multiple Pieces." Not only did people fill every seat in the break-out room (nerve-wracking and wonderful), but I was gobsmacked by how—for hours afterward and into the next day—so many writers approached me to say that the session opened up something for them about their own CNF work. I've never had that kind of response before, and almost cannot adequately express how much it meant to me. (And served as a timely reminder that when I'm in the audience and find value in a speaker's presentation, saying so afterward, face-to-face, can be a true gift to that person.)

Now, on to some of the small gems I came away with.

> In the Collage Essay Workshop (a pre-conference add-on), we got to talking about other fragmented forms, and Sarah Einstein shared her own definition of a segmented essay, which she thinks of as not exactly linear, but a series of interconnected stories that follow a timeline progression. Yes! That makes so much sense; something I think I intuitively understood but hadn't worked out a definition for.

> During a panel on query letters, one agent (sorry, didn't record who!) suggested a simple formula: "The hook, the book, the cook." What's the essential heart of the book?  What is the book about (slightly extended description)? Who is the writer?  Another noted that query letters should involve no more than "one scroll" of the email screen. Still another advised digging through the Manuscript Wish List's site or following #MSWL on Twitter.

> Wendy Fontaine, part of a panel on truth in nonfiction, shared some of her captivating research on memory and recall, brain anatomy and function. This, for example: "The brain makes no biological delineation between a true memory and a false one." Whoa! Certainly makes me want to think twice, or three, maybe four times when writing about what I think I remember clearly.

> At a presentation on designing and delivering a writers' retreat, Joanne Lozar Glenn advised working backward from the intended outcome. Ask yourself what you want the writers who will attend to take away from the experience. Newly generated pages? A notebook of ideas? Feedback? New process skills? Community? A combination? Something else?

> In a talk on incorporating science into CNF, Jeannine Pfeiffer, writer and scientist, suggested ways to track down data and experts without spending a lot on abstracts or other access to scientific journals—such as using Google Scholar; the Public Library of Science; asking a professor friend to let you search on Academia.edu or Researchgate.net; gaining in-person access to a local university library; and searching the terms "open access journals" + "your topic".

> At a session on content marketing, Kelly Kautz noted that for writers who are marketing themselves, their books, and/or their services, it's wise to tame the intimidating monster that is analytics data, focusing only on areas that are meaningful to you. Identify keyword combinations that work, and then purposely use them in posts or social media exchanges. That means, for me, posts incorporating the word combinations "New Jersey… Editor" "Writing teacher…NJ" and "NJ…writing coach," might be in my future.

> Jim Warner, on a panel about literary citizenship, invited writers from everywhere to submit audio files from literary events, especially interviews with authors, for consideration for his podcast, CitizenLit.

> Finally, it would be impossible to sum up all the wonderfulness that was Mary Karr's keynote address, so I'll leave you with these notes:

On writing about family: "A dysfunctional family is any form of family with more than one person."

On stories within memoir: "Memoir is, by its nature, episodic. Everyone has stories."

On melodrama: "Don't write how you suffered. Write how you survived."

On writing from reality: "Don't exaggerate. Trust that what you experienced was enough."

On blame: "Judge yourself more harshly than anyone else."

On her writing process: "One sentence at a time. There's no strategy. Jump lump along. Six hours or 1000 words a day, whichever comes first."

On revision: "Make the ugly parts prettier. Make the pretty parts better. And if you can't, cut it out, because you don't want to be boring."

There was so much more. I suspect it's all going to be buzzing around my writer's brain for weeks or months to come, and maybe as long as it takes to get back there in September 2017. Which is what I want out of a conference after all.

Images - Beach umbrella: Flickr/CreativeCommons - Monkeyatlarge - Memory stone: Flickr/CreativeCommons-Tim Green aka atoach

Writer Communing with Notebook: Early Morning Conference Insomnia (the good kind)

This definitely-not-a-morning person is up at 5:30 on a Saturday because I am at my favorite writing conference, and after Friday's invigorating start, well—who can sleep? (And not just because I'm a little jumpy about my presentation later today and suddenly remembered that little change I need to make on slide number six.)

I'm propped up in bed, my hand whipping across notebook pages. So many new ideas are flying around in my brain, so much stimulation, all the fresh perspectives I absorbed yesterday, all insisting on equal time. I'm exhausted already (you know, in that good way.). And baby, I've got lists. Write this…research that…read her book…read his essay…think about that other angle…this other point of view…try a new essay form…add this to next semester's syllabus...share that with my clients.

HippoCamp, a conference exclusively for creative nonfiction writers (sponsored by Hippocampus Magazine), is in its second year in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and if day one was any indication, it hasn't outgrown its well-earned inaugural appeal.

This dazzling little gem of a conference feels like that secluded, still-undiscovered-by-the-masses vacation spot you want to shout about to everyone but at the same time, want to keep secret to it doesn't get overrun next year. For me, it's also just the right size (smallish, around 150 or so attendees), the right distance from home (under a three hour drive), and embodies just the right vibe (welcoming inclusion for all writers, where everyone is in the club regardless of publishing resume).

Last year, I could only manage to be here all day Saturday and a bit of Sunday morning. This year, I decided to plunge all in, say yes to more, and signed up for the optional post-conference agent/editor pitch sessions (never did one of those!), as well as one of the pre-conference workshops (don't get much chance lately to be one of the writers at the table instead of the leader).

My workshop was on the collage essay with the lovely Sarah Einstein, whose intriguing pre-workshop emails and Facebook posts promised unique sensory prompts—and she delivered. Which meant I generated 12 notebook pages of rough writing for a future essay (essays?). What unique prompts, you ask? How about these: we lit sparklers, danced the hora, sniffed Tequila-soaked cotton balls, blew up balloons, passed around party favors, and listened to a sad/not sad funeral dirge. Phew.

I'll be back next week with more about the wonderful time I know I'm going to have later today and tomorrow. As for my presentation nerves, I keep telling myself (like I do when I go to the dentist) that in a few hours it will all be over, and (unlike post-dentist) before you know it, keynote speaker Mary Karr will be on stage in the main room and I can relax. Except for my pen flying across new notebook pages.

To get more out of the rare opportunity to connect for several days in real life with writers (many of whom I "know" only from social media), I've decided I'll mostly keep my phone in my pocket. I want to keep my eyes up and alert and have live conversations even if they are sometimes awkward. 

But you can follow some of the action on Twitter with #HippoCamp16, where lots of people more talented than I (who can do two things at once), are already sharing the wisdom and the fun.

Onward…

Image: Flickr/CreativeCommons - Blachswan

Friday Fridge Clean-Out: Links for Writers -- August 5, 2016 Edition

 > At the L.A. Review of Books, Tarn Wilson takes a close look at "How to Write a Collage-Style Memoir" by examining the craft and structure in A Piece of Sky, A Grain of Rice by Christine Hale. (Tip: Don't let #1 fool you!)

> Wondering what college students will be reading this fall? (Humor me, I have one of these species.) NPR rounded up some of the books being read campus-wide at a variety of universities.

> Yet one more site that rounds up links of interest to writers on Fridays -- Being Rudi.

> Has anyone (I'm thinking about you, list essay writers) explored (or tried posting at) Li.st? 

> Now that Oprah has named his new novel, The Underground Railroad, her newest book pick, Colson Whitehead talked to the New York Times about "Slavery, Success, and Writing the Novel That Really Scared Him."

> Department of Shameless Self-Promotion. My nonfiction narrative, "The Amazing Technicolor Horse Dream" appears in the July Hippocampus Magazine (part of their "Firsts" theme issue). It's my second essay on the site; I'm proud to have my work appear in the same venue beside so many excellent examples of the creative nonfiction genre. Have I mentioned (maybe only a zillion times!) that last summer Hippocampus put on a stellar first conference for CNF writers, one where every writer, at every level, was made to feel welcome? And that I'll be presenting once again when the second installment convenes next week in Lancaster, PA?

Have a great weekend!

Image: Flickr/CreativeCommons

Friday Fridge Clean-Out: Links for Writers -- August 14, 2015 Edition

> Seen all those ads for the James Patterson MasterClass, and automatically dismiss them? One accomplished author opened her mind, dove in, and learned a little something.

>  Some pragmatic, slightly tough-love but compassionate thoughts from writer Margarita Montimore in this long (but worth reading) post, "Hope in Careful Doses: Or (What I Didn’t Expect on the Path to Getting an Agent)".

> If you missed the Hippocamp creative nonfiction conference last weekend, this Storify page brings you a wealth of gleaned tidbits.

> Podcast fans, listen to Jenna McGuiggan (who gave a kickass presentation on writing flash pieces at Hippocamp) chat with host Sara Blackthorne on "In Her Room: Women Writers on Life, Craft, and Changing the World" (episode # 21).

> Also at Hippocamp (and I promise I'll stop talking about it soon), one of the highlights of Jane Friedman's closing keynote on the possible future of publishing was this fascinating four minute video, putting into perspective the speed at which the world is changing in terms of information, knowledge, publishing, and more. You might think, yeah, I know all that, but I doubt you'll be bored, and will almost certainly learn a few new things. 

> If you plan to head to any conference soon, consider these tips from Allison Williams for getting the most out of it.

> Advice from four successful literary agents for memoir writers seeking representation.

> Finally, more wisdom from agents, this time via the tweet stream for the hilarious hashtag #KillAQueryin5Words

Have a great weekend!

Image: Flickr/Creative Commons -- jdhancock

Friday Fridge Clean-Out: Links for Writers -- July 24, 2015 Edition

> Weary of those "writers under 30/40" lists? So was Claire Fuller, debut novelist at 48, who helped form Prime Writers.

> Poet Jessica Piazza vowed to only submit to paying markets in 2015. At the mid-point of the year, she tallied her dollars and reflected on the process.

> Is Joan Didion "the ultimate literary celebrity"? Laura Marsh, at The New Republic, thinks so, and makes the case for why and how.

> In two weeks, I'll give a presentation and be on a panel at HippoCamp2015, a Conference for Creative Nonfiction Writers (Lancaster, PA). There's still time to register, and using the code HippoFriend, you'll save $25. (Some less-than-full-conference registration options are also available upon request.) Not long ago, I interviewed conference organizer (founder/editor of Hippocampus Magazine) Donna Talarico.

> Cathy C. Hall shares some tips on getting the most from a short (in this case, three-day) writing retreat.

> At Creative Nonfiction, exploring the origins of the CNF term itself.

> The Millions takes a look at what's coming up in new nonfiction books for the balance of 2015.

> While I teach in an MFA program, I also think the degree is not for every writer; that not every good writer needs or wants one. In this account at The Millions, a non-MFA writer examines his reasons for skipping it (and the article is jammed with other interesting links, too.)

> Jessica Page Morrell discusses the need for messy emotions in writing.

Have a great weekend!

Image: Flickr/Creative Commons - GlobalX

Conference Organizer Interview: Donna Talarico on HippoCamp2015, A Conference for Creative Nonfiction Writers

I would like to say that a few years ago, I was first drawn to Hippocampus Magazine because it presented so many wonderful pieces of creative nonfiction. Truth is, as a former rider and equestrian journalist, I simply wanted to know why their logo was a seahorse. Quickly, I came to love the journal for their essays, memoir, and narratives, and discovered many new-to-me writers there. Hippocampus is presenting its first conference this August, three days of  CNF-centric celebration and education. Donna Talarico, founder and publisher, has been busy putting everything in place, but agreed to answer my nosy questions.

Q:  How far in advance did you start planning? Was it something you always wanted to do and were waiting for the right time? Why this summer?

A: Preparation began in August 2014. I’ve always wanted to extend the Hippocampus community into what we on the Internet call “IRL” – in real life! But I didn’t want to rush to do it. A conference was in the long-term plans, and I wanted to wait until we had a solid following and reputation to take on something of this caliber. 2015 is our fifth year, so it made sense to do it this year, and I gave us a year lead time to plan.

Q:  When you've attended other conferences, were you quietly taking in intel for when it was your turn? Any great examples you want to emulate?

A: I’ve been active on the speaker circuit in the web/content marketing world for about seven years or so, first in eCommerce and then in higher education. I absolutely LOVE conferences; they were always the highlight of my career. Being inspired as an attendee, being the inspiration as a presenter.

 The conference I’ve modeled HippoCamp after is HighEdWeb. I have not been energized more than when I am at these conferences, with brilliant, dynamic people. The programming is filled with variety and information and fun, and that’s exactly what I wanted to capture, only with writers instead of web geeks. (But a lot of web geeks also are writers! Like me.) I guess you could say I was taking in intel without realizing I was doing so… so I was taking notes on paper about the content, but taking mental notes about all the “what ifs” if I were to do this myself.

Q: What was the response to the call for presentation proposals? [Disclosure from Lisa: I submitted two proposals, one was accepted.]  How did you make choices? Was it a committee? What swayed, or dissuaded?

A: For the first year, I believe we had a great response to proposals. People are still, to this day, asking if they can present (now that the conference has really gained some traction), so I know next year will bring a lot more proposal submissions from the get-go. Unfortunately, proposals are closed, but I am loving the interest and want to remind these enthusiastic folks to look out for our 2016 call for submissions, which will go out in mid to late August 2015.

We have a programming committee, and just like with magazine submissions, the proposals were vetted by a diverse group of people and voted on – yes, no, comments. I like to think of the audience first, so we chose sessions that would be of value to the attendees and tried to have variety or ones that would have more “mass” appeal that also fit the three tracks as well as the style we’re looking for in the conference--engaging, interactive. Some proposal topics overlapped with others, and some were a little too narrow of a focus for a small conference – so basically, it was a balancing act. And just like an editor never likes to turn away a great story, we couldn’t pick everything submitted.

Q:  To me, conferences held where a journal or organization is headquartered offer not just local flavor, but something more -- conference personnel are welcoming attendees to their home. Did you ever consider holding HippoCamp anywhere other than Lancaster, PA?  What does the location offer writers?

A: No. Lancaster it was! Being an online magazine means you really don’t have a true physical presence, but literary citizenship is important to me, so it made sense for me—and HippoCamp—to be part of the community I call home. Plus, Lancaster is a really vibrant city and I like giving small towns love—I do love traveling to larger cities to conferences but the pitstops I  make along the way always prove to be really eye-opening (example: I drove from PA to Minneapolis for AWP and hit all these cool places along the way).

I think there should be more exploration of these gems of cities, like Lancaster, for gatherings. Not just in the writing world, but in general. On our conference blog, Erin Dorney and Tyler Barton from a local literary group, The Triangle, have written a few blog posts that talk about why Lancaster is a great town for writers. So, to me, HippoCamp is both sharing information and sharing a slice of life.

Q: In an article in The Writer, about first-time conference organizers, you are quoted, “I want it to be affordable and a good value, and make back the money. We’ll break even, or if there is extra money, it will go to next year’s conference.”  How are you approaching meeting that goal?

A: I was so honored to be included in Melissa Hart’s article in The Writer. To explain that comment a little more, I wanted to make sure I priced it right for attendees, and then I also set an attendance goal, based on that rate, that would meet the financial commitment to the convention center. We’re just a small conference committee, and we didn’t hire anyone externally. I did talk to other conference organizers, and I do sit on a conference committee for an industry organization, so that’s been a world of help.

Q:  I noticed you're planning on an open mic, and other ways for attendees to extend their participation. Can you talk about some of that?

A: I love love love when there is excitement in the air during the whole conference. I can’t imagine a conference ending when the last session of the day is over. So I made sure that there was built in time to converse and engage in a more laid back setting—so much of the conference magic doesn’t happen in the lecture hall. No, it happens in the nooks and crannies of the hotel, or out on the town as new connections become what seems like old friends. These more informal opportunities to get together allow that to happen; and sometimes it’s not even the organized social events, but the spontaneous stuff that happens, like, “Hey, let’s go grab coffee before the readings...” moments.

Of course an open mic night is a little more structured than those organic moments I just mentioned, but this also lets others from the conference—those who didn’t give a session or sit on a panel—to have a moment to share, and shine.

Two other social activities are breakfast topic tables, which allow attendees to grab breakfast and then look for a table with a topic card – social media, editing, POV, etc. – and then sit there and spark conversation around that. (Don’t worry; not every breakfast table will have a topic because I know that there are those that just need coffee before they can form sentences, haha.)

It’s important to have ways for people to connect. While we’re in a session, learning, we’re giving our attention to the speaker and we’re quiet, strangers in a room. There needs to be space and time to open people up!

Q:  When I look at the line-up, I'm awed by some star power (Lee Gutkind, Jane Friedman), and intrigued by names that are unfamiliar, but whose topic is so interesting, I'm eager to sit in their sessions. (I'm sure I fall squarely into the 'who is she?' category myself.) How did you approach putting together the mix?

A: I don’t want to use the term underdog here, but I root for anyone that has passion and is maybe brilliant in his or her circles, but never had the chance to strut their stuff in front of others. Giving someone that first shot boosts confidence and could help propel someone into their platform. Just as it’s important to have new voices in a lit mag or on book shelves, we need fresh faces at conferences like this.

Everyone has successes (or failures) to share, so balancing experienced speakers with new voices just makes sense to me. To be honest, it’s really the topics and caliber of the proposal that sells it for me, not the name of the presenter, although when you’re a new conference like we are, it does make sense to have names some might know—especially when it comes to the keynotes.

Q:  I notice it's mostly individuals and not panels presenting, as is the case at so many writing conferences. Any special reason why?

A: Oh yes. I’m SO glad you asked this, Lisa. First of all, “as is the case at so many…” means a lot to me. When I take on a project, I try to find gaps to fill and ways to be different enough to stand out, yet familiar enough to be comfortable. As I answered in another question earlier, I modeled HippoCamp after the conference format that’s most exhilarating for me.

There is something so special about being in a room with one person standing in the front igniting the audience with his or her passion. I love TedTalks, for example. The classroom-style session, to me, is so engaging. It allows the presenter to illustrate (as in with visual aids) that expertise – to show, not just tell. I love when a speaker works the room and when a speaker walks us through a case study or something they’ve worked on; it’s energizing.

I prefer that type of learning to a group of people sitting and taking turns talking, although there is merit in that as well. So I varied up the format. I balanced all-conference panels featuring larger, overarching topics with break-out sessions on more specific topics. I think this format prevents conference fatigue and gives people a chance to be in a room that just lights up.

Q: You're about seven or so weeks out from the conference. Are you excited? Worried? Both?

A:  There is such a vibe and energy about the conference, and I’m hoping that it continues to be contagious among the writing community. I'm mostly excited, but we’re still a little shy of our attendance goal so I’d be lying if I said there weren’t nerves too. There is still room. (I’m talking to YOU, dear reader. And you. And you.) The actual capacity of our reserved space exceeds our conference goal, so even if we did hit that magic number, there would be room left. We want a packed house. (Note: see below for discount.)

Q:  Hippocampus Magazine has a wonderful following and reputation online among creative nonfiction writers as a place to read CNF, and a destination goal to publish work. How does the conference and the journal interact?

A: Thank you for that! We’re thrilled with our following. Our three-fold mission is to entertain, educate, and engage readers and writers of creative nonfiction. The conference fulfills all three of those points, but, really, I think of “educate” the most.

Many of the conference volunteers and several of the presenters are on the Hippocampus staff and/or were published in our magazine, so HippoCamp is an extension of the relationships we’ve built over the years, but also it has introduced us to new friends and partners. The momentum of the magazine certainly helps fuel the energy of the conference, but, at the same time, people are learning about our journal for the first time by way of the conference. It’s neat to see these connections form.

I already have ideas for next year about how the conference and magazine can play off one another even more!

 

Q: What else have you done to differentiate the conference and deliver additional options for conference goers?

A:  We're offering pre- and post-conference workshops as add-ons; people can start their HippoCamp experience early with an editing or a writing and movement workshop (the collage essays one is already sold out), or extend it with a query-writing workshop. These intensive, interactive classes can complement the rest of the conference, but I made them optional add-ons because I wanted to squeeze in as much amazing content as I could during the regular programming.

Again, I borrowed this idea from HighEdWeb where I always add on an extra workshop (and I’m giving one this year!), and it was SO valuable to get access to an expert in his or her field for a few hours and to work on something practical.

Note from Lisa:  Donna would like to offer my blog readers a $20 discount on HippoCamp2015 conference registration. Use code: ROMEOWRITES at the conference registration page.

Images: Amish sign- DavidJones/Flickr Creative Commons; Hotel - Lancaster Convention Center; 

Others courtesy Hippocampus.

A List, Fragments, and a Father's Day (Essay) Card

Every December 31, I make a secret list: places I'd like to see my essays published in the coming year. Sometimes, it actually happens. That's the case with Hippocampus Magazine, an online home for (only) creative nonfiction, a journal I have always admired.

When the editor accepted "Going Through Your Things/Superhero" (an excerpt from my memoir-in-essays manuscript) in late January, she suggested publishing in June to coincide with Father's Day. 

This somewhat unusual essay began as fragments in my head eight years ago in my father's home office the week after he died. I spent several hours looking through the things he kept on his desk and shelves, his drawers, files, and closet. That day, I learned some things, about how I thought of him when I was a child, teenager, and young adult--and about myself (not all of it pretty or tidy).

It begins this way:

I am going through your things, Dad, and there is the black and white Kodak picture with the curly edges, me on Thunder, just a Sunday morning at the pony rides.

Oh Daddy, please take me for a pony ride; please, Daddy, wake up; it’s Sunday morning; let’s go; you promised to take me to the pony rides. Daddy, can I please have riding lessons; Aunt Louise said she’d take me when she takes Shelly; it’s only once a week, okay, Daddy? I got straight As again, Dad, so that’s $5 each, right? Dad, look at these cool new shoes I got at the store on the ship Mommy and Cathy and I took to France this summer. Hey Dad, can we go to a Broadway play for my birthday this year; thanks, Dad; and can I bring four of my friends, too; thanks. Dad, will you get tickets for me and AnnaMarie to the David Bowie concert, the Elton John concert, Beach Boys, Chicago, Frampton, Three Dog Night, the Steve Miller Band. Cool; thanks, Dad.

* * *

When I was a child, and even through most of my teenage years, even when I was convinced he was a hopelessly old-fashioned dolt, my father seemed to be able to get anything done. Tickets to any event. The son of a friend out of a parking ticket. A nephew out of jail. A new toy every store was sold out of. Broken stuff fixed, in the house, car, factory. In touch with someone important, maybe even famous. The back story. The back way to get somewhere. The right thing to say. How to convince someone to do, or make, or arrange something they didn’t want to do or make or arrange. Reservations, when every seat or room or table or flight was booked and had been booked for months. The right amount to tip. Which person to tip, and the way to fold the bill and when to offer it and how. 

I am going through your things, Dad, and here is the canceled check for...

You can read the rest over at Hippocampus, here.