Conference Wrap-Up or, What I Learned and Did (and didn't do) at #AWP18

Everything I do lately seems to have multiple purposes. I read for pleasure, to observe what other authors do on the page, to learn, to find fine examples to share with my students. When I cruise social media, I'm cheering on other authors with books about to publish, looking for great short essays to read and share, keeping up to date about the writing world (and the world!), having a bit of social fun, working here and there on some presence for my upcoming book. And when I'm at a writers conference? The motherlode of multi-tasking! All of the above!

For the mammoth annual AWP Conference two weeks ago in Tampa, I headed down with at least four (not exactly competing) items on my to-accomplish list: Talk to folks about my forthcoming book, Starting with Goodbye, and hand out/sign advance reading copies. Meet in person the literary folks I only know online, but really like. Read from, and meet follow contributors to the anthology, Flash Nonfiction Funny. Attend break-out sessions and other formal activities that piqued my interest, to continue learning.

I did all that, and more. 

Having ARC's of Starting with Goodbye was thrilling. To be in the AWP bookfair with those in my hand...well, I can hardly describe the feeling as far-flung writing world friends stopped by to have a look, take a book, and sincerely wish me well. I wanted to hug them all. Come to think of it, I did hug them all!

AWP's bookfair is a sprawling, two-football-field sized maze and can often feel like a bit of a cold place, filled with pressure to accomplish something, to meet someone, to have the right conversations. Last year though I seemed to crack through my own personal shoulds, relax and look at it differently: as a place to find, meet, and talk with writer friends I interact with online, editors who have published my work, former students, and my own fellow MFA alums, and also a place to explore, meet new folks, and not worry one whit about what may come out of those interactions.

While I did attend a few stellar break-out sessions this year, I spent fewer hours than usual in those, opting instead to continue meaningful conversations rather than dashing off to make it to a chilly meeting room exactly on time. Those in-person meet-ups now feel like a more urgent part of any conference experience than before.

One session I especially found interesting was focused on creative nonfiction chapbooks, which I reported on here for Assay Journal; there you'll also find reports on many more AWP 2018 panels. I picked sessions to attend mostly based on what I'm curious about now, including: an excellent panel on narrative medicine (coinciding nicely with an upcoming community teaching gig I have to help those recovering from injuries to write their health stories); one on how authors can collectively help one another on myriad levels; another on effective online teaching methods; and one more on mastering digital book promotion.

Because I had family in the area to visit, and my knees can only take so many hours of hard floors, I missed what I'm told was a masterful keynote by George Saunders, and some other evening events. Time was, I would have been upset about that. Now, I'm taking the long view. There will be other big conferences (AWP in Portland, OR next year?), and other gatherings nearer and smaller.

At my first job, a mentor once advised that if you can leave any professional conference having made at least three satisfying new connections, learned a couple of key strategies you can put into practice, and not come home sick or injured, that will have been a successful outing.

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: Weekend Links for Writers -- March 3, 2017 Edition

> Annette Gendler gave up on submitting to literary magazines, and it was the right thing for her writing life.

> Interesting (and slightly odd) interview with George Suanders at Lit Hub.

> What not to do at a writing conference, according to Author Accelerator's Jennie Nash. So much good advice here.

> American for the Arts is now tracking "Arts Mobilization Efforts" at their website, as arts groups nationwide gear up for possible cuts and losses under the new administration.

> At The Sunlight Press, Nina Badzin offers a look at her idiosyncratic system for capturing writing ideas before they fade away.

> If your guest post ideas/pitches aren't getting the go-ahead, Jessica Lawlor (who edits guest posts for two blogs), lists all the possible reasons why.

> At The Masters Review, a round-up of TED talks by writers, including Billy Collins, Roxane Gay, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Lidia Yuknavitch, and others.

> What to do when you hire an editor and the feedback on your manuscript indicates a key fundamental issue that you agree needs attention, but you might not be ready to tackle it? Jennifer Lang explores the territory on the Brevity Blog.

Have a great weekend!

Image: Flickr/CreativeCommons

What I Heard and Learned at the AWP Writers Conference

Last weekend, I spent a day and a half at the AWP conference, and because I hadn't planned things out in advance, I missed a lot I'm sure that, had I spent more time studying the program, would have been useful. I went with my gut, with my knee's pain level, and my energy and willingness to scout out a tucked away presentation room three-quarters of a mile of connecting walkways and escalators away.

As many conference attendees do, I sometimes caught the first half of a panel presentation, then ducked out to listen to the second half of another. It may be that someone, in one of the sessions I mention below, said something extraordinarily exciting and I missed it. Nevertheless, here's a potpourri of the takeaways I either jotted into my notebook, or that made their way into my brain. 

At a panel playfully called, "Nope, That Still Ain't a Story: Developmental Editing in Creative Nonfiction," two authors and their editor discussed their joint experiences. Bill Patrick, of Hudson Whitman Excelsior College Press, explained that while Amy Ryan "didn’t have a book" when she brought him her manuscript of living with diabetes, writer Anthony D'Aries "had four books" lurking in his manuscript about learning to understand his father. Ryan talked about getting instructions from Patrick about chapters she needed to write, often more personal and revealing than she'd planned; D'Aries discussed the process of locating the essence of his story, and paring away. 

Patrick also mentioned the value of "bridge chapters". These explore the less personal aspects of the main memoir topic/story, but are related and connected to the larger picture. They give the reader a bit of a break from heavy unfolding narrative, and act as a way of moving the camera from close-up to a wider angle; they can also provide context of how the narrator's story fits into the broader world.

> If you're thinking of running a one- or multi-day workshop, retreat, mini-conference, there was the panel, "Starting Small: Grassroots Workshops and Conferences". Dave Housley from Barrelhouse suggested finding a like-minded organization to partner with—like a college, arts center, etc.—that can provide free or low-cost space. Tyler McMahon, who runs the Ko`oalu Writers Workshop  in Hawaii, warned, "Don't run at a deficit; you want to break even or make money from the start." Another good tip: serve a free lunch at a session for which you want a large audience! For those seeking gigs as presenters or workshop leaders at small conferences, panelists advised developing a unique program that other writers can't offer, and/or something you've developed specifically for their audience.

> At "Opening the Doors to Discovery: The Generative Writing Workshop," panelists offered interesting ways to utilize prompts, writing exercises, and reading for inspiration when conducting one-time workshops with time for writers to produce new material. Baron Wormser (one of my MFA workshop leaders a decade ago), said he thinks of a prompt as "a quick way into the unconscious, to get at the unknown, the unbidden." It forces a writer to access some new area of thought because something must be produced in the time allotted. Another panelist advised that at one-time gatherings (as opposed to on-going workshop series), reading and sharing be met only with positive responses, absent critical feedback. Kim Dana Kupperman recommended locating prompts within a piece of published work the group reads together.

> "Essaying the Edge: Teaching Alternative Forms of Nonfiction," focused on the so-called hermit crab essay, hybrids, collage, and other experimental nonfiction. Panelists talked of sneaking in these forms without at first identifying them, so that students might simply read and like them, and decide on their own what to call them.

> At the panel, "Just Don't Read the Comments: On the Joys and Risks of Publishing Personal Essays Online," I heard just the last ten minutes, including advice from Laura Bogart to ask for headline approval and hashtag/tagging approval, pre-publication. Her awareness of this was spurred by an incident when one of her essays was headlined and tagged in a way that included Trump's four-word slogan; she asked that it be changed, and the editor/venue complied, but not before it had resulted in unpleasant emails and online thrashing.

> At an abundantly informative panel, "Beyond the Classroom: Teaching Outside Academia," I was scribbling so fast, and all four panelists were making so many useful suggestions every minute, I didn't record who said what. The following bits of advice came from Stuart Horwitz, Julie Duffy, Jane Friedman, Andi Cumbo-Floyd, and Gabriella Pereira.

Know what you WANT to teach (not just what you've been teaching all along). You'll earn more by teaching/leading an add-on workshop at a conference than if you are one of the general presenters. Develop packages and products to offer repeat clients/students. Offer a free something to attract mailing list sign-ups. Hand out (or offer to email) something useful following an in-person teaching event. Pitch your online or in-person class with a very specific outcome highlighted ("After four weeks, you'll have two essays ready to submit.."). Students and coaching clients want to be held accountable, so build in a deadline/reporting/accountability component. Offer tiered pricing if possible [$X for the full feedback option; $(X-Y) for a scaled down version.] Include student/client accomplishments in your promotional materials. 

I just saw today that Jane Friedman has a new blog post up outlining much of what she talked about at the conference, plus more.

> Finally, it seemed fitting that, in Washington, D.C., during the final session of the final day, I ended by listening to one particular panelist whose sincere, practical and pragmatic, encouraging talk on "How to Publish Your Book Without an Agent," made me want to stand up and shout, Nevertheless, She Persisted! That panelist was Janice Eidus, someone I recognized from Facebook and from her essays, but had never met. But by happy coincidence I'd share dinner with her later that evening (via invitation of a mutual writing friend). Eidus and her fellow panelists' stories of perseverance and eventual publication—and the sprawling Book Fair where I found at least a dozen independent traditional publishers of literary works that I was not previously aware of (and trust me, I'd already compiled a long list!)—capped off my personal AWP experience on a hopeful note.

Want more post-AWP coverage? I'll have a bunch of links to others' blog posts in the Friday link round up later this week. 

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

Guest Blogger Julia Roberts on Great Advice from The Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop Conference

More than 18 months ago, Julia Roberts, president of Decoding Creativity, was kind enough to interview me about the writing life for her Storytellers Summit. Julia lived nearby in New Jersey, and while we'd previously crossed paths, before we had a chance to see one another again, she'd switched coasts, and now lives in California. Lucky her! Julia's most recent book is Sex, Lies & Creativity, Gender Differences in Creative Thinking (Difference Press, 2014). When she volunteered to blog about her experience at the Bombeck gathering, I said yes immediately. (More about Julia at the end of her post.)

Please welcome Julia Roberts.

The Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop Conference is a utopia for humor writers that only appears every other year, out of the mist, on the edge of the Great Miami River in Dayton, Ohio (like Brigadoon…) People in the know watch and wait for the announcement, because the conference sells out within hours each time, and only the lucky are admitted. It was reported that one would-be participant hung up on her mother abruptly as soon as admission opened. Another applied with her feet up in stirrups – not waiting for the end of her Pap smear. I got in on the wait list, and wasn’t sure what all the frenzy was about. I almost turned my wait listed position down when an opening became available. But they asked me to speak on the science of creativity – and well, I went. I love Erma Bombeck after all.

Erma died 20 years ago, so younger writers may not know of her wit and power. She was a humor columnist from the mid-1960’s to the early 90’s, carried in 900 newspapers, two times a week, who wrote about family life, housework, and husbands. In a time when every lucky housewife was supposed to be content with a split ranch and an automatic dishwasher, Erma complained… with humor, insight and a huge following… about 30 million readers a week.

What’s not to love? She was fully actualized – knew what was important to her, and set about doing it. From syndicated columnist and 15 bestselling books, to Good Morning America contributor, to ERA activist, and ultimately a position in the Carter administration alongside Bella Abzug, Gloria Steinem and others – she left it all out on the field. Erma is famous for saying:

“When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything you gave me.'” – Erma Bombeck

And she was funny. Damn funny. Some of my favorites quips of hers include:

·         The grass is always greener over the septic tank

·         When you look like your passport photo, it’s time to go home.

·         All of us have moments in our lives that test our courage. Taking children into a house with a white carpet is one of them.

Funny was the coin of the realm among the 450 participants I met at the writing workshop held in Erma’s honor a few weeks ago.  Therein lies the utopia, the joy and pleasure of talking about writing with people who like to laugh, love to land a joke, and who are all there to learn and help.

I learned a bunch of cool things – from very cool people – so I’ll share them and see if they’re helpful to you, too. Here are ten little nuggets, paraphrased from the many sessions I attended:

1.      You have to be funny by the fourth line, or you’ve lost them. – Alan Zweibel (early writer for SNL, co-creator of The Garry Shandling Show and more)

Zweibel is a living legend, who shared the story of writing the iconic theme song for the Gary Shandling show on an elevator ride, on the way to lunch. We were all moved that he could share this lovely memory only a couple of weeks after he’d lost his longtime friend.

2.      Use social media like an editor’s desk; let double-digit likes or retweets decide what merits a blogpost. – Elaine Ambrose (author, Menopause Sucks) 

So many of us write alone these days – no editors to please. Yes, that’s the upside. But we also never get an editor’s input on our stuff – what’s good and what’s crap. So let your social media response give you that editorial perspective. Follow the direction from your many “editors” who respond to your work.

3.      Never tell an agent you’ve just finished your NaNoWriMo novel. – Sorche Elizabeth Fairbank (Fairbank Literary Representation)
All the agents’ heads nodded on this one. I’ve compiled a No-No list from the advice from the many agents at the seminar. To get a copy, go here.

4.      The audience is in charge now. Getting audience attention is more valuable than the gatekeepers’ money. – Cathryn Michon (writer, director, producer of Muffintop, A Love Story)

Cathryn has brought her little love project Muffintop from a small personal project (starring David Arquette and Marissa Janet Winokur) all the way to Nextflix and Hulu. How? She had strong audience support and advocacy. Social media, baby!

5.      Make a list of people - including celebrities – who might write a “Buy This Book” email on your behalf. – Rachel Ekstrom Courage (Agent, Irene Goodman Agency)          
Even if you don’t know any celebrities, you probably know 100 people who would consider writing this kind of email. Have you asked?

6.      Writing a book is like traveling alone. Sure, you’ll meet great people, but when it’s you and your book, you’re alone on a journey. – Amy Ephron (bestselling author of A Cup of Tea, and One Sunday Morning)

I loved Amy’s tales of life with her sisters Nora and Delia Ephron.

7.      To write a book, you have to train your brain like you’d train a dog, to drop into flow, on command, and write in the small pieces of time you get. – Anna Lefler (Novelist, Preschooled.)

Anna’s presentation was full, FULL of the little things she did to drag her mommy-ass through the first draft of her novel. She even wrote as her two toddlers napped in the car. (A twist on the “don’t make me pull this car over” thing.) But first you have to have some preset ways to ready your brain to follow commands. Like Sit. And Write.

8.      When you’re going to host a dance in your living room, you spread out the furniture. When you write, do a mind dump first – make some space for your creativity. – Kathy Kinney (Actor, Mimi in The Drew Carey Show, co-author of Be the Queen of Your Own Life)

Kathy and Cindy Ratzlaff have been best friends for 40 years and their mutual respect and synchronicity came through on the stage. They’ve helped each other through many creative blocks over the years.

9.      Showbiz is not a business of ideas. It’s a business of relationships. - Joel Madison (writer for Roseanne, The Larry Sanders Show and currently on Judd Apatow HBO series Crashing.)

Doesn’t that just explain everything?

10.   I just read The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, where you’re supposed to throw away everything in your house that doesn’t ‘spark joy.’ I’ll save you some time and money. I looked around my house and got started. I threw that book out. – Wendy Liebman (standup comic, semifinalist in NBC’s America’s Got Talent and director/star of Wendy Liebman, Taller on TV DVD.)

Wendy’s talent, connection to the room and humor blew us all away. She’d honed her wit and timing on late night and HBO, but that night she was there, just for us.

The starpower at this conference was tremendous but their collective wattage was actually outshone by the 450 delightful, experienced and openly welcoming participants. I had fascinating and fun conversations, met people I’ll consider new friends and colleagues. I was enlightened, inspired and energized by this conference. 

I’ll be ready to re-up as soon as the conference opens registration for the 2018 Erma Bombeck Writing Workshop – even if I have to pull my arm out of the back of a turkey, or land the plane I’m on so can register before we arrive in our destination city, or leave a meeting with my agent, and the director and producer of the movie being made from my book. With all my new famous friends and their inside advice – hey it could happen.

Note from Lisa: For those who write humor (a lot or occasionally), the Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop website is a nice home for funny personal essays. Here's one of mine. Submission guidelines here.

More about our guest blogger: Julia excels in helping writers understand their own creative strengths and struggles and how to hew their creativity to their greatest advantage. She has been coaching since 2004 and is certified by Dr. Martha Beck, among other certifications and degrees. Additional books include Motherhood to Otherhood (Running Press, 2008); and RV There Yet? (Book Surge, 2007). See more about Julia Roberts at www.decodingcreativity.com

Images: Erma Bombeck-Wikipedia; all others courtesy Julia Roberts

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

I've been away from the blog for a bit due to a hectic, rather sad month, so thought I'd get back with an extra long list of links this week. Enjoy!

> Lit Hub asked a bunch of authors who also teach, to share some of the books on their MFA syllabus reading lists.

> I intend to read Paul Lisicky's new memoir The Narrow Door, which has been getting a ton of well-deserved attention, and lest I put it off too long, this beautifully written essay of his is a good reminder to keep the book near the top of the TBR pile.

> In separate Behind The Prose podcasts, essayist Sharisee Tracey discusses how she landed bylines all over the place, and Salon editor Kim Brooks talks about how she selects and edits essays for the website's Life section.

> Nieman Storyboard asked five discriminating writer-readers to weigh in on five well-loved nonfiction pieces, to answer the question, "Why's This So Good?"

> Jane Friedman offers a comprehensive guide to query letters for nonfiction books.

> So, writer-parents, what would you say if your child came home with a handout suggesting that "said" and "asked" were too boring for most dialogue writing? (The sound you hear is fingers on a chalkboard, no?)

> Used bookstores - yay or nay? Do we love shopping in them, but aren't thrilled that they produce no income for authors? Either way, they're making a "comeback," according to The Washington Post.  (I put comeback in quotes because speaking for myself and I believe, many other readers, I've always been able to find one just about anywhere.)

> HippoCamp16: A Conference for Nonfiction Writers, scheduled for August in Lancaster, PA, is offering one fully-paid scholarship.

> Four conference scholarships are up for grabs for (undergraduate or graduate) writing students, to the River Teeth Nonfiction Conference in June, in Ashland, Ohio.

> Department of brag (about my blog): Once again, I'm very pleased to be listed at The Write Life's "100 Best Websites for Writers 2016" (#80), and in the Feedspot's "Top 100 Writing Blogs for Authors" (#86). And, the NOT-brag part: take a look at some of the other great resources listed at one or both places.

> Department of brag (about someone else): My former student Vincent J. Fitzgerald was recently published in Longridge Review, and he's also joined the team of readers for Compose Journal, grappling with the creative nonfiction submissions queue. At Compose, we're just beginning to read (in all genres) for the Fall 2016 issue.

> Finally, Ploughshares has some fun predicting "The Next 11 Literary Scandals."

Have a great weekend!

Image: Flickr/CreativeCommons - Boston Public Library

Prepping for a Conference, Me and My Inner Italian American

Today is a conference prep day. I've had a bunch of these in 2015, after a long drought. Some of the conference appearances have come about by way of my own initial effort, while others are group affairs: another writer with energy, an original idea, and me in her contact list, graciously invites me to join a panel proposal. (And yes, some proposals were rejected, but enough were accepted.)

Each time, during the brainstorming/application/panel proposal submission process—typically many months, sometimes a full year before the conference—it all seems like such a great idea. An interesting topic! Fabulous co-panelists! Inviting location! Promising meet-ups with far-flung colleagues! A break in the routine, sometimes a night or two away from home, restaurant meals! Occasionally, a fee! And yes, to be completely honest, a new CV line.

What I'm prepping for now is a reading and panel this Friday titled, "Death: Italian American Style," at the Italian American Studies Association national conference in Washington, D.C. I'll be reading excerpts from my memoir manuscript, which swirls around my father's death and includes some of the rituals associated with my Italian American family.

This time around, the credit for the unusual, terrific panel idea goes to writer Rita Ciresi, who is one of my fellow faculty members in the Bay Path University online MFA program. Joining Rita and I are writers JosephBathanti and Marisa Labozzetta.  

I was so energized when the proposal was accepted.

Then, here's what very often happens to me a few weeks before the event. Potential problems arise: sticky logistics (family and work), scheduling conflicts, travel inconveniences, budget considerations. I begin to question the whole enterprise—time, mental energy, cost, work that will pile up. I worry that whatever I need to do—make a presentation, give a talk, read my work, or participate in or lead a discussion—I will be just awful at it.

Whose great idea was it anyway?

Then, slowly, things begin to fall into place. Challenging logistics get solved, schedules tamed, costs brought into line with available budgets. Travel arrangements solidify, work gets done ahead or (artfully?) postponed. Next, I start the preparations, and that's often the best part of the experience, because I begin to realize: Hey, this IS a good idea after all.

I decide there's no going back, so why not have some fun with it?

Prep time. Today, I'm choosing the excerpt reading selections, practicing to be sure I'll stay within my allotted 15 minutes (of reading time, not fame!), and making a few notes that could help me answer anticipated questions. And doing one of the things I love best about any conference: going over the program slowly to find the other events I want to be sure to attend.

I must admit, the IASA conference would not normally be on my radar, but now that I'm headed that way, I'm so glad that Rita reached out to me for this. In addition to our panel, I'm eager to see the one titled, "Creative Writers on Italian-American Fathers" (Fred Misurella, Vittoria Repetto, Joey Nicoletti, Edvige Giunta, Joseph Ricapito) as well as "Italian-American Daughters and Dads: Love and Loss" (Karen DeLuca, Laura Mangione, B Amore).

Given that I've written about my father for more than eight years now, that I've been fortunate to see many of those nonfiction narratives and essays published, and that I'm just wrapping up a revision of the memoir manuscript (moving it from an essay collection to a more linear narrative)—these sessions seem custom planned just for me.

I'm now in the pre-honeymoon phase of conference-going: excited, curious, and ready (almost). I just need to pay a few bills, answer a dozen student emails...

  

(p.s. It may be a long shot, but if any blog readers will be there, please be sure to say hello!)

Top image: Flickr/Creative Commons - Julie Garcia