It’s the beginning of RWA’s National conference, and I’m not there. I registered. I paid. We booked a hotel and made travel arrangements. Then things began to go wrong. “But the conference fee is non-refundable,” I said. “And I’ve told people I’d be there. I’ve made plans.” Despite the warning signs, I determined to make it work.
We left on Sunday, did a stop-over in Reno, and arrived in San Fransisco on Monday. The trip was full of beautiful scenery. When we arrived, more things went wrong. Most notably the hotel. “It’s safe,” the manager assured us. Although he himself wouldn’t stay past five. The parking lot attendant added, “Don’t go anywhere at night. Take a cab.”
We looked around at the people on the streets and thought, well, maybe the inside security is good…
No. Flimsy locks, an outside security gate you could reach a hand into and open, discarded mattresses littering the hallway (from the last shooting? I couldn’t help wondering) and those are the major points. Won’t trouble you with the minor. Bottom line, not safe even in daytime.
We discussed options. Get another hotel? Except all the hotel rooms close to the conference location were booked for those dates and those that weren’t were astronomically expensive. We knew this, because we’d tried them before we booked this place. Stay and risk it? No. In fact, adding up all the things that went wrong before and after leaving, we decided it was not meant to be. We took the kids to Golden Gate Park, which was the one thing they cared passionately about, and headed back home.
Now, for years I’ve been reading about other people’s conference experiences, feeling left out, hearing how important it was for my career and how much I was missing out on by not going. I wanted to do something good for my career. I wanted to experience a national conference. I knew it was expensive, but this one was close enough it looked doable. Nothing else in upcoming years will be. I fell for the hype. I felt I had to do this to be Serious. Then I stuck with my decision despite warning signs because of that non-refundable fee. But if I’d been going on a feng shui approach, I would have seen very early on that this decision needed to be re-thought.
I wasn’t going to have meetings with my agent or editors. I wasn’t going to participate in the literacy signing. All because I signed up in June, instead of May and everybody was scheduled to the eyeballs by the time I said I was going and I missed the literacy deadline. Payments didn’t appear on time, making the expense stressful. And the closer the date came, the more I realized how badly I needed an actual vacation, and this was the closest I’d get. Unfortunate, because four days of “working vacation” wouldn’t really relax and recharge me. Not to mention the hours of travel.
If I’d asked myself, “Forget what I thought I needed six weeks ago, what do I need now to support myself?” I’d have cancelled before we got in the car and slept for a week. So I truly have no regrets about how it all worked out. I’m left behind, and I really AM loving it. This is where I want to be, not in a big, strange city. We have a nice house, and I much prefer it to a scary hotel. There are plenty of things to do right here and we’re doing them. Making masks with the kids, going for walks, visiting the Discovery Center and Botanical Gardens, all without fear of being mugged.
The whole experience has made me step back and think about conferences and writer’s organizations, too. I think the time has come for me to gaffiate. For those who have never been part of the science fiction/fantasy realm, to gaffiate is to get away from it all. I need quiet space to think about where I want to go from here and how I’m going to get there. No writer’s organization is going to help me with that. Moreover, the last thing I need is to be bombarded by industry news and the dire warnings that what I want to do is impractical, doomed, and causes blindness in laboratory rats.
I’ve noticed a trend since getting published that the news I read in organization newsletters I already knew months earlier from reading blogs. The articles aren’t helpful. They aren’t geared towards my needs or my career stage. And then there’s the fact that I actually considered spending $100-$150 on makeup I’d wear for four days to look “professional” at a conference, when I am not a make-up wearing person. If I have to look like somebody I’m not to fit in to an organization, perhaps it is not the org for me.
So, I’m gaffiating and at the end of this year, I may not renew any of my memberships. This is my networking and support system, right here in the blogosphere. I’m giving a workshop here and attending others and I’m doing it in my shorts with a ponytail in my hair after spending a morning doing crafts involving scissors, glitter glue, pipe cleaners and pom poms. I’m relaxing and having a vacation at home, which I really need to recharge. I’ve written 5 novels, 7 and a half novellas, and ten proposals in the last two years. That doesn’t include children’s books or short stories or articles. I don’t want to go sound smart to strangers. I want to wear my fuzzy slippers and contemplate my garden. I want to load up my Holga with medium format film and do artsy shots and I might even pull out my watercolors and paint a picture.
It’s worth the non-refundable fee to be right here, right now, left behind and truly loving it. The experience has cured me of conference envy, and next year I’ll think of all those people in DC and be glad I’m home.
I would have left too. That did not sound like fun. Sometimes it is best to follow your gut instinct.
Enjoy your vacation at home.
Annmarie, what’s funny is my brother booked a hotel in SF from the internet a few years ago, too, and turned around and left when he got there because it was that bad! Not sure if it’s the same place or just a common SF experience.
There’s no place like home!
Charlene,
I’m one of those left behind and loving it. As of today actually, I was a bit envious but then I sat down and calculated how much I would have spent and what I would have gotten out of it probably. I think I came out ahead.
So I understand where you’re coming from. And I thank you for such an honest post.
Enjoy your vacation.
Angeleque, with travel costs soaring, I think a lot of people are going to be re-evaluating in coming years. And thanks, I am thoroughly enjoying the at-home vacation!
Gaffiate, eh? I love to pick up new terms and will ruminate on that one in my own blog. Can you share the book or author source? I’m curious, I have lots of SFF buddies.
I just attended a conference which has always been a good recharge for me in the past but, this year, I tried to push the “working vacation” envelope and ended up coming home a day early. I still need a real vacation and don’t think it will happen until the kids are back in the school this fall…cabin in the woods with no media, no people, just creature comforts and myself.
You really can’t look at the economic cost alone when considering these sorts of events, for what it’s worth. You have to cull some other value from them. For me, it’s networking, a career recharge (we writers/editors are just not “out there” enough and need the exposure), a class or two, and social time with other writers.
At first I balked at the initial cost, but now I routinely attend a minimum of 3 conferences a year (two are local, one I must travel to) and they are generally worth the trouble and cost over time. I think of them as investments in my writing career that I won’t leverage until later, when the books come out.
The best advice I can give? Never say never. Your kids will grow and change and so will you. Over time, the way you relate to your writing life in the middle of work and family life will change as well. Just be flexible (which you already know how to do, being a mom). While I understand the desire to blow off the whole conference scene, most of the time, the experiences are positive, regenerative, inspiring and motivational. I’d hate to see you miss out because of one bum hotel!
(I know about that, too; I went to a conference in NYC last Feb and my room was positioned one story up from a dumpster and all I could hear at night were the rats rustling around in the garbage. The wi-fi failed there, as well. !!!)
I know you said you have no regrets but still. Ugh. I regret not going but I always do feel as if I’m missing something, even when I make it.
Charli, I assume y’all weren’t booked into the conference hotel? Cuz I’ve stayed at the Marriott there multiple times and it’s really nice there, and very safe. Of course no downtown area is safe after dark.
Sorry you had such a bad experience. San Francisco really is a lovely city.
I’ve noticed that too! I’m already thinking no RWA renewal for me. I don’t get enough out of my local chapter and the other is too darned far away. That said, I love conferences. I love hanging out with writers and gabbing till all hours of the night so yes, I miss not being at RWA this year (and I’m normally as anti-social as the next writer!), but considering I have a book that’s not done, I’m not sure this year would have been much fun.
Your blog reminded me about something I’ve always known but like to ignore – half the time, the things I claim to regret really boil down to my regret that I’m not the kind of person who’d enjoy them in the first place. If that makes any sense. LOL
I know everyone loves going to conference, or at least it seems that way. I wish I were the sort of person who would, too, but in truth, I’m not particularly social – especially with massive amounts of strangers, a good number of whom would intimidate me. Not the most self-empowering statement, I know, but I’m being honest. I hate making small-talk. I hate learning the ropes. I know it’s supposedly a necessary evil in this business, at least to some extent, but that doesn’t mean I’d ever look forward to it.
I guess I’m a walking cliche – the semi-solitary writer.
That long-winded response aside, the one thing I’ve always noted from my interactions with you, Charli, is how wise and positive you seem. Your reaction to missing the conference makes me feel a little less like an oddball in my approach to conferences, memberships, etc. (And I, too, don’t wear makeup…)
I’m sorry your trip wasn’t what you’d hoped it would be, but I’m glad you’re back home and happy to be there. 🙂
Hi Charlene,
This is my first time visiting your blog–I came via Twitter. 😉
I’m so sorry you had such a negative experience trying to get to the RWA conference. Something constructive did evolve from the experience, though. It sounds like it was just what you needed to help you decide what you want–or don’t want–out of belonging to writing organizations. In any case, I have been to San Francisco twice and do think its a very lovely city. I hope you decide to go back someday.
Oh! And cute masks! 😉
Tamara, I’m not saying never, but the conferences come with a hefty price tag and that’s not a minor consideration since I’m not willing to go into debt to pay for a trip. I also can’t write an unlimited number of books per year and I support myself by writing. The conf. money could buy me time to write a spec project I believe in, and that might be a better investment in my career than any conference could be.
Kate, I really don’t have any regrets. I enjoyed taking a road trip, but whatever I’m missing isn’t for me. What’s mine will come to me, one way or another.
Jaci, no, not the Marriott. Which I’m sure is lovely and for the price, it oughta be. *g* And there are areas that are safe at night. I’ve been living in them for years. Come to Murder on the Grove and see!
Amie, I’m not anti-social but the definition of extrovert versus introvert is where you get your energy. If groups of people energize you and solitude drains you, you’re an extrovert. If time alone energizes you and crowds drain you, you’re an introvert. I’m drained right now so joining crowds would pretty much be masochism. *g* And yes, the book comes first! First, last and always.
Carolynn, exactly. I’m not the kind of person who likes big city scenes, bars, or parties. My idea of a good time is a long hike. Or, um, writing. And there’s such an overwhelming message that it’s not normal to be like that, that cool people get out and party. Maybe I’m not cool. At my age, I think I can be okay with that. Here’s to happiness not found at the cosmetic counter!
Christine, welcome, and I hope you enjoyed your visit. I’ve been to San Fransisco before (I’m actually a California native) but not in recent years, and it has changed. The Golden Gate Park is a jewel, though.
Oh, and Tamara, sorry, forgot to explain the origin of gaffiation. It’s a fen term (SF fandom) and refers to people who drop out of active fandom. As in, “What happened to Morris, he always used to do filk singing?” “He gaffiated in 2001.” There should be a writer term for dropping out of active organizational membership, but since we don’t have one, I’m stealing gaffiated.
Hey, Sorry your hotel sucked, but I’m glad you made a vacation out of it. I’d just like to point out that you have friends who live reasonably close to DC, and who could probably pick you up at an airport if you asked nicely (and promised not to load up the trunk). Just sayin’. 🙂
Ann, thanks, but it’s more than the hotel. It’s the big question of what have I gotten out of organizations thus far, and why do I need to spend 2K to go to a conference to prove I’m serious about my career. Writer’s organizations are expensive and time consuming; blogging is free. Also, blogging has done way more for my career than any org ever has.
I am so sorry things didn’t work out in SF. I knew this was your first Nat’l and I was hoping this would be a great experience for you.
It took me three years and a dozen writer conferences to discover that they didn’t do anything for me but exhaust me and drain my checking account, so from my POV you’re ahead of the game.
You don’t have to do anything to prove you’re serious about your career. You are serious, and it comes through in everything you write.
Lynn, I’m sorry it didn’t work out, too, but glad for the learning experience. I had lots of time to think on the road! And thank you, that’s a high compliment.
I’m sorry you didn’t get your con experience, Charli.
May, I really would’ve loved to do it at least once, but since I’m back home I’m spending the money on other things. Like shade trees for the back yard.
Charlene–I think this is a wonderful article. Writing has become so ‘professional’ that sometimes it seems there is hardly any time to write. I have enjoyed the online conference more than I did several of the RWA ones I did attend.
Best in the future. Page
Page, the list of things writers “should” do seems to have grown exponentially, but there is one thing writers do that nobody else can; write a book.