The Philadelphia Writers' Conference

I am transformed by the Philadelphia Writers’ Conference (for the better) and so are my favorite khaki pants (not for the better). Let’s discuss the writers’ conference first. We’ll get to the pants later.

If you have never heard of the Philadelphia Writers’ Conference it is a non-profit organization made up entirely of an elected, volunteer, board dedicated to bringing writers together for “instruction, counsel, fellowship and the exchange of ideas” since 1949. They hold *free* workshops throughout the year as well as an annual conference held in June (for a very reasonable fee). This three day event is led by leading writing teachers and published authors from our area. These are people who have succeeded in the industry AND want to help other local writers, even little ol’ me, succeed.

I have been writing since elementary school mostly “in the closet.” Members of my own family don’t even know I write. Every once in a while I may tell a close friend or a complete stranger and on very rare occasions I may actually allow someone to read my work. Then that work gets shoved in a proverbial drawer never to be seen again. Since high school, every few years, I will make half-hearted attempts to join a writers’ group, or take a class or something but never really found a niche.

As I watch my kids, and myself, grow older I have a new sense of urgency. I better *do* something with this 30 year itch or I may very well explode! Before I know it my littlest one will be in school and my husband will look at me with expecting eyes and say, “maybe you should get a job so we can send these kids to college.” And it will be over; my chance at being a writer will be gone. I will be a working schlep once again with no time to write. I’d better try now and either succeed or fail miserably but at least I’ll have tried.

This is how I ended up leaving my children on a Friday morning to attend the three day conference. To say that I was nervous would be an understatement. I couldn’t even tell friends and neighbors I was going; just saying I have a “thing.” After-all, I am a walking cliché – little stay-at-home mom who wants to write a silly little novel. As such, I certainly would not be welcomed into this community of serious writers – you know, like people who have been writing beautifully every single day since birth; people whose first drafts are perfect; people who can describe the shit out of a blade of grass; people who have been published; people who are not blonde (ok, so this one is a stretch for many reasons top of which is that I DYE my hair blonde). These people, I’m sure, did not listen to Radio Disney on the way in – turning the volume up for Hot Chelle Rae. What the heck, I’m gonna turn on some Hot Chelle Rae right now – It’s my party, I’ll dance if I want to! Anyway, my point is – these people were clearly going to be superior to me in every way.  

Most of these feelings of inadequacy melted away as soon as I walked into the door (they still lurked in my head slightly). I was 10 minutes late as usual, but that’s OK because being 10 minutes late gave me the opportunity to feel the aura of all the attendees as I walked through to door. It gave me the chance to feel the vibe of love and acceptance as I snuck in the room to hear the opening speaker, Jonathan Maberry.

Thank you Jonathan Maberry! What a fantastic opening speech. I couldn’t even tell you exactly what he said without getting off my butt and consulting my notes but it was spoken to me personally. This guy writes New York Times best-selling horror that I may never read but he spoke to me. He spoke to all of us. We all left energized and ready to move on with our writing lives. Move on we did, to 3-day intense writers workshops on whatever topic we wanted.

First I had a Literary Short Story Workshop with Debra Leigh Scott. I don’t think I write “literary” short stories, I think mine are more crap, er, I mean “contemporary.” But I enjoyed everything about her workshop (well, up until the point I learned Walt Disney may have been a Nazi-sympathizer. That hurt.). We all walked away with some great work to read and the start of some really beautiful stories ourselves. I look forward to being in a future workshop with Debra Leigh Scott to continue to hone my craft (and to share what I learned about the Disney/Nazi thing in my Google research).

Next I had Playwritng with Maurizio Giammarco. I took this class for fun. Man, was it intense (and fun)! Maurizio Giammarco has his PhD, teaches at Temple, writes his own plays, and has won an award for a film. He crammed all that he knows into 3 one-hour sessions. Whew! It was great but I think I need to go purchase “Screenwriting for Dummies.”

My last workshop was Character Development in Novels with Jonathan Maberry. In a word, awesome. This guy is great. He is making it the industry and has all this energy to share about writing, reading, and the market. All I can say is, his wife must be a saint! He writes 12 hours a day, 3 novels a year, short stories, book tours, workshops, writers’ coffeehouses, etc etc. And, he squeezed in some time to help us write lovable characters even if our characters may never encounter a zombie.

There is so much more I can write about the other sessions, the agent and editor panels, etc. but this blog is getting very long and I haven’t even discussed my pants. Just go next year, OK?

Now onto the pants. These khaki pants pre-date my soon-to-be 10 year marriage but have held up considerably well (as has the marriage!). They have brought me through three rounds of post-partum weight gain and loss – always reliably buttoning when my waist was bigger, only hugging a little too much around my butt. Then, when the weight-loss finally came, they would hang nicely and hide all my imperfections. They have stuck with me through the occasional 5 lb gain or loss. They have come with me to churches, dinners, dance clubs, and playdates. But on Friday afternoon, armed with I-can-make-it –afterall energy, I strutted the streets of Philadelphia Mary Tyler Moore style when it suddenly occurred to me I must eat something. So I quickly grabbed a city vendor gyro and plopped myself in front of the Holiday Inn to scarf it down before the next session when - wait for it - it fell in my lap – all red tomatoey hot sauce and all. Where are the baby wipes when you need them? Here I was kid-less and invincible and yet I still managed to get stains on my favorite pants! Oh, well, this time next year I’ll be a world-famous author (right?) and I’ll buy myself some new khakis!

Here it is folks – my first personal blog entry – clichés, hyperbole, typos, inconsistent verb tense, fragments, run-ons, misplaced commas and all! For the world to see. I really must be transformed! Thanks for reading! Now I must go change my two-year olds diaper and wash those khaki pants.

For more info on the Philadelphia Writers’ Conference go to www.pwcwriters.org. For more info on the khaki pants, I guess you’ll have to comment here! And, just for kicks, listen to some Hot Chelle Rae: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZtxzkDzuF3g! I dare you *not* to bob your head!