Booksquare

We are still working our way to our notes (as of this moment, we have half emptied our suitcase and piled books by size on the floor), but thought we’d share a few random thoughts because the best way to make more room in the mind is to empty a few hills and valleys. In no particular order:

• Conference hotels are notoriously cold. We have attended sufficient numbers to say this authoritatively. No matter if you’re in Dallas in July or Boston in November, the actual conference area will be chilly. Those who paid attention to weather reports and dressed accordingly were freezing. We, practiced as we are, opted for layers (if only we’d remembered to do this before our arrival…airports and airplanes can also be chilly).

 

• If you’re attending a conference where books will be handed out freely and frequently, pack an extra suitcase (we also follow this philosophy for just about every trip as our items seem to expand as they’re unpacked and repacked). Alternatively, you could plan to ship items home. We can’t imagine anything sadder than leaving books behind because you’ve squeezed the last quarter inch out of your suitcase.

 

• If you see an editor or agent alone in a bar, buy them a drink (this helpful suggestion actually came from an agent). Talk to them. If invited, pitch to them. Note our use of the phrase “if invited.” Use common sense about these things, but just as you don’t want to be standing alone in a crowd, all eyes watching you, neither do they. Be the bold one and approach them.

 

• If you think you’re going to leave a workshop early, seat yourself appropriately. Yes, that means in the back or on the aisle. Because not everyone appreciates you crawling over them in your haste to escape.

 

• Question-and-answer time is not the appropriate moment for you to pitch or work out particular problems with your story (unless the workshop is specifically geared toward that). All those rolling eyes you see? They’re for you. Same for the gasps of horror. We have learned that those who start sentences with “in my book…” usually have much bigger problems than unresolved conflict.

 

• Talk to strangers. We are, admittedly, shy beyond shy. And we assume every other wallflower (we mean this in the most affectionate manner) is, too. Sitting at a table with strangers or making conversation will not kill you. We remain living proof of this.

 

• Eating dessert first is not against the law.

 

• The person you are making fun of is probably standing right behind you. Use code words if you cannot resist certain evil urges. You know who you are.

 

• Editors are like elephants in that they have long memories. Conference is probably not the best time to make a fool of yourself. If you can’t resist, please advertise the event in advance so that everyone can watch your meltdown.

 

• Likewise, we’re all pretty much checking our various listservs afterward for missed gossip. Sure, there may be such a thing as no bad publicity, but do you want to be the one test the theory?

 

• In addition to marketing your work, you’re marketing yourself. We know, we know, you’re a writer. But that person you insulted? Probably will remember your name. The book you sold? She’s probably not going to buy it.

 

• If you’re invited to send something to an editor or agent, they truly don’t expect it to be on their desk the next day. Take your time to polish and think. Then maybe polish and think some more. We always assume the first month after conference is akin to an in-office avalanche. It is up to you whether or not being caught in the storm is desirable.

 

• Avoid organizational politics unless you simply cannot take it any longer. Political battles are usually ugly and time-consuming. If you don’t have better things to do, contact us — we can help.

 

• Expect to eat and drink more than usual. Expect to sleep less.

 

We’ll have more thoughts later.

Update: Looking for more words of wisdom? We have none. David Thayer, however, does. Except maybe we don’t quite trust his advice on mangoes. Our experience is that we end up wearing slippery food. Especially when there’s a cosmic junction of silk and food that stains forever.

• Thank You for not Stalking