A Neophyte's Perception of a Writers Conference

Photo Credit: Nathan Williams

This whole account may be a little premature as I'm still living in a post-conference blender of emotions.

From Thursday to Sunday I attended the Pikes Peak Writers Conference in Colorado Springs, CO. It's now Monday. This means that my head is still spinning and the pendulum still swings back and forth between, 'I suck', and 'there might just be hope for me.'

A dreamer, the mere fact – which I was keenly aware of before conference – that people have written and published books, is all it takes for me to want to do the same. Nothing is going to keep me from realizing it, although I do believe that the method of extracting my story may have to come from something other than the usual way – brain summoning muscles to cause fingers to dance across the keys. It may also take more pain.

Despite being the epitomy of a newbie- necessary and a nuisance,  I have come out of the conference with my head firmly set on my shoulders, and ready to rock it.

PPWC is the self-professed 'friendliest conference' out there. It was a relief that everyone having to do with it, volunteers, speakers, and presenters, were only one baby kiss away from being saints because this was still attended by a sub-set of the population at large. You can't quite keep all the jerks out of everything. And like every necessary part of life, you show up, you participate, you do your thing, and ignore the people who have no investment in you coming out of it whole.

I'm sure that many of us went into the conference ready to take a beating, you can only be stripped down to be built back up again, a better person for it. With more skills in the back pocket for easy access, my soul has told me that I am indeed a step closer to something greater.

Really, the only rough spot I had in Colorado Springs, was with a handful of attendees and the rare expert. While most were supportive and wonderful human beings, there were some that had no patience for beginner writers. It made me feel sub-standard. It made me feel like an intruder.

Thank GOD for the keynote speakers. They rescued me. Their words cut straight to my ravaged writer's heart. I was laughing, I was crying. They made me feel like I could attain my own success, in my own way. They were so passionately into their words. Wait a second...they are authors.

So if you are considering attending a writer's conference for the first time, I would hope you consider going to this one next year. Despite my social anxiety and low tolerance for narcissistic ppl, I would easily go back to Colorado Springs, even still droopy eyed with notebook in hand – after I finish another chapter, that is.

Every one of the keynote speakers hit a home run. They all received a standing ovation. The event volunteers and organizers I met made me feel welcome. The master of ceremonies, Aaron Michael Ritchey was superbly entertaining. Hats off to the director, MK Meredith, the programming director, MB Partlow, and the faculty co-ordinator, Jason P Henry who made fantastic choices in content with top notch execution.

2014 PPWC Faculty

I can't wait until next year.

Signs You Have Not Published/Written a Novel

Photo Cred: Tambako the Jaguar :CC

No one needs to tell you that the world of writing is fraught with unknowns, filled to the ethers with wannabe authors ready to scrape down the fibers of their soul in order to get published or recognized in some way. 

We grasp and tug desperately for any gold-plated tidbit of advice successful authors might share with us. Furthermore, we shame those who dare advise us without reaching an invisible benchmark of fame and notoriety. That title being devised of some abstract number of publications - which of course vary greatly between individuals.

I am here to tell you that you should heed my advice.

I would like to introduce myself to you... I am Lori Johnstone, wife, mother, daughter, sister, unpublished author, writer. One who writes. I write words down. 

I'm not published. So I know exactly what to do/what not to do in order not to be published. Check out my CV...

Here it is. Look really closely. Yep, that's it. That blank speck here to the right. The part with nothing written on it. 

Seriously, I am the foremost authority on "not" getting published. 

Read on... for these are the signs you should heed, telling evidence of spinning your wheels in the writing sphere;

You might not be published if:

1) Nothing but organic food graces your children's lips and you spend an excessive amount of time assessing their sugar intake.  

2) It has never been necessary for anyone in your house to resort to wearing their underwear inside out. EVER. 

3) You are well read and may belong to more than one book club. It is even possible that you have set an outrageously high reading goal on Goodreads.com, of which you fully intend to blow out of the water.

4) All of your pets are meticulously groomed and are full of love garnered from your unwavering attentiveness.

5) You have painstakingly vowed to understand one of the most controversial and mysterious principles in the world of physics to apply to your novel. 

6) Your entire community of family and friends are still speaking to you. 

7) Your social life abounds and you feel rewarded and blessed with friendships. 

8) One or more of your children are achieving at high levels in school and you volunteer on a regular basis.

9) Your clothes are pressed, you are beautific at all times in case you are challenged to a walk-off.

Gif Cred- James Fitzhenry; GIPHY

10) You are up to date on which country hates us the most and is ready to annihilate us at a second's notice. 

11) You are in wonderful physical shape and your one tummy roll hasn't taken to replicating like an unruly Gremlin. 

12) You have consulted with a guru and have been transforming your mental fitness to near Ghandi-like levels.

And the number one foolproof way to know if you have no published works to your name...

13) Your blog is up to date and successful.

No one can achieve perfect balance and adoration. Take a few of these and muss them up a bit. You can balance that. For instance, by not focusing on the laundry, maybe force your family to wear their underwear inside out for ONE day a week. 

It's all about making sacrifices. 

May the writing Gods be with you.

READCON and Music Was All I Needed...

Writing a novel is tough work- Understatement of the century!

One thing that helps with inspiration is being with people who write and yesterday I showed up at  READCON to find that spark. I was able to fill that need-and then some! Think books, brews, and cool people.

I began the day at READCON only slightly connected to the writing world, I was filled maybe halfway up to my knees with the writing spirit. That sensation of being cut-off from what the "real" writers were up to, of floating precariously around them in that pseudo-writer space, the doubts of whether I fit into their neat little bubble faded away.

Essentially, it is the very essence of people that we require time to be with like-minded people to feel right. Therefore, people who write need to be with people who write to feel RIGHT... Dr. Suess is invading my headspace!

Seek out other writers, seek out conferences, do anything to practice your craft, to learn new techniques, to feel passionate about the lifestyle.

What also helps me is to feed the emotion and feeling directly to my brain through the appropriate music. This is what I am listening to now while I write...It is the heart and soul of my story.







Photo Credit CC



 
What do you do to allow yourself to intimate what you already are? 
How do you align yourself with that desired schemata?

Accepting Your Mistakes; In Writing And In Life

Disclaimer: Model is just acting bummed.

Making mistakes is an inevitable part of life. There is not one person who doesn't make them.

Sometimes the blunders are tiny inconsequential blips that we easily brush off like eraser remnants from on a page. You continue writing and you do not think twice about it. 

Make larger ones, however, and we berate ourselves, worry if we are up to the task and sometimes even give up.

Inspiration came to me the other day as I was driving. At the time, I was observing a tiny volkswagen that had come to a complete stop in a huge merging lane. 

There were about five other cars behind the car. The others were no doubt feeling the same as I did, that this car stopping was highly unnecessary, perhaps even dangerous.

While the driver of the car in question was probably afraid of getting into an accident, he/she was putting themselves in another kind of danger. There was a big possibility of a collision from behind. 

It is the same in writing and in life, we shouldn't stop doing what we love because we are afraid to make a mistake, or because we have made a mistake in the past. We need to keep going, make adjustments and learn from past errors. We shouldn't stop. 

We have an undeniable tool at our disposal when we experience difficult times. 

We learn the skill of bouncing back, of accepting that we screwed up when something isn't exactly as we hoped it would be. 
                                                                                           

Photo Credit


We point it out to ourselves with razor-like precision, we fix it and move on.  

I have a friend who applied three times to a veterinary school. It was a very competitive application and interview process and twice he did not make the final cut. The third time was the charm.

He never gave up. He is now practicing in his chosen field. I find great inspiration in that. You see, sometimes we can be our worst enemies or our strongest advocates. Keep trying. Believe in your best selves. 

We all have the tenacity to achieve at high levels, and we all have the potential to soar. Sometimes those attributes are just hiding around the corner of a properly utilized mistake.

Inspiration: The Whispering Ghosts of the Mind

When do the ghosts of ideas appear for you?  Every single morning I live with the protagonist in my book. It always begins as the steam from the shower billows up around me, as if permeating my skin and sending the story straight into my soul. 

That is how her story began almost three years ago, she made her way forcibly into my life. Since then I have been stumbling around intellectually trying to grasp the skills necessary to convey what she tells me in a way that people will want to hear.

 And she always begins her ranting through some connection with water. There is something about when I am around water that compels her to speak to me. Perhaps that is why I took the kids to the pool so many times this summer. I could hardly ever write there, mind you. A few times I would allow my Macbook to accompany me and I would tap away through the happy laughter and shouting of the kids. 

 Most times I would sit watching them with my mind mostly somewhere beyond where they were in a world that was playing out as if in a scene from a movie. I would let that world settle into my bones. It felt right there, almost like an adrenaline rush. Sometimes, I'll admit, I enjoy that world a bit better. 

So I think that is how my life as a writer began. I was looking for something more when I wasn't finding the color and depth that I was craving in certain aspects my life, so this was a way to do it without breaking any social norms. 

This was the way I could be the stay at home mom my husband and I decided that we wanted for our children and I could let the stories play out within my head. It's not easy, sometimes the voices scream imperceptibly at me, unable to accept that I choose my children and husband first and foremost over them. 

They are incredibly pushy. Sometimes they overcome me, and leave me in something like a cold sweat as they come in waves, there is no chance of containing them all. I have to believe, though, that the ones I successfully grasp are the ideas that are meant to remain. Even after they make me believe I am somewhat neurotic, I believe that there is a little bit of madness to any creative endeavor. 

Often I lose the purpose of what the visions and voices are trying to tell me. Somewhere between the shower and the driveline at school, I lose bits and fragments. The atmosphere of the idea, or how one bit made the hair on my arms raise, so I knew it was right. My ideas are like bubbles blown out in wonder by a child, I'm running around trying to catch the one resting precariously on a single blade of grass before it pops. 

No matter the successes and defeats, something inside me tells me to continue on. Though this may be the scenic route, I will arrive soundly and solidly at my destination. As I know writing is the journey. It is the discovery that what people say cannot be done, can in fact be accomplished and can be done with grace and stalwartness.