First off, sorry I was MIA last week. I didn’t even remember until midweek. The week of RWA is always total insanity.
As most of you know, we had the Romance Writers of America national conference in NYC this week, always a crazy time. Here, forthwith, are the good and the bad.
1. We were at the overflow hotel, which was relatively peaceful and calm, with none of the ghastly elevator issues.
2. We got to see editors and agents in the natural habitat
3. My visit coincided with a gorgeous Broadway celebration of my cousin’s wife, Beverley Randolph, that washed all my makeup off but was worth it, and I’m so grateful for the timing.
4. I got to drool over some of my favorite writers, many who were singularly unimpressed that it was me drooling <g>.
5. I love NYC
6. Sherry Thomas won the RITA. Mind you, that category was so tight I would have refused to judge if they’d asked me — I’d read most of them and they were all deserving of a win. However, I just discovered Sherry so I was particularly tickled about that one.
7. Sherrilyn Kenyon’s speech (the only one I heard) was wonderful.
8. I got to see some of my favorite people, like Anne Gracie, Judith Keiler, Terry Medeiros, Eloisa James (only long enough to give her a big smack on the cheek). And I missed far too many others.
9. Crusie’s workshops were fabulous, even more fabulous than usual.
10. Pocket Books put RAZIEL in the goody bag, god bless ‘em.
Now for the bad.
1. It was a looong walk to the hotel, and I was in a lot of pain (probably because NYC is not conducive to scooters). I do fine for short distances but NYC has deceptively long blocks. I finally learned to just take the effing cab.
2. I missed so many people, including my fellow Storybroads, and only saw others as I was leaping into a coveted elevator.
3. For some reason I was exhausted. I missed the Harlequin party (no nun this year) and two smaller parties of my dearest friends. I missed any workshop I thought I might like. I was drained. Then again, I wasn’t sleeping well and I’ve been under a lot of stress. I may have a thyroid problem, though, so doctor when I get home.
4. One publisher is thoroughly, and at this point probably permanently, on my shit list. The wonderful thing about e-publishing is that, while I’m a firm believer in traditional publishing, I have other options as well. More about that later.
5. I was also too achy and tired to shop. In NYC! Oh, the horror!
6. Everything was too expensive, of course, and Times Square is more of a madhouse than it used to be.
7. There’s someone I want to smack, really hard.
8. I’d rather be writing (and I did write in my hotel room)
9. …. you know, I am so much a glass half-full person that I’m already tired of complaining.
RWA is a madhouse of frustration and delight. I tend to like it better when it’s someplace else, since I live close enough to come to NYC and meet with my agents and publishers, but even so it’s always full of stimulation. When it’s over you come home stoked and ready to write. (Which used to be tough when I was younger and had kids home from school for the summer).
RWA is the people, and I didn’t get to see enough of them, but I’m still very very glad I coughed up the money and decided to get my ass down there. In the end, we’re all on this road together, and RWA gives me a chance to seem my fellow travelers.