by Cindy R. Williams
I'm going to play a game with my blog and write short fragments with an explanation on some about my impressions of the LDStorymakers 2010 Writers Conference. I have no doubt that other attendee's experiences will be like night and day compared to mine, but here goes.
Four different hotel rooms for a three night stay. (Marriott kept giving our room away. When questioned about it, one manger started to cry and had to go home. Weird huh?)
Lots of cinnamon bears and sun chips. (No outside food allowed at the conference . . . oops.)
Tried a new pen name and was told it sounded like someone whom writes cheap romances, or something of that nature. (Hmmmm . . . a genre I have yet to try . . . I wonder . . .)
Made many new writer friends and connections. (Everyone I met was great. It seemed that most egos were checked at the door.)
On a roll with my pitch until my killer ending. "I think Im' going to go throw up now." (I don't recommend you try this at a pitch session.)
I didn't throw up, but the toilet exploded as I walked out of the stall. (I think there must have been an air bubble in the pipe. Only the back of my crinkle skirt got hit, thank goodness.)
Ate dinner at Tucano's near Provo Canyon which is the most fabulous Brazilian restaurant ever. (Super salad bar with to die for cheesy rolls. You turn a small wooden column so the green painted end is up, and darling waiters bring 17 different kinds of meats, vegetables and pineapple cooked on spits to your table. They keep coming over and over again until you turn your wood block upside down so the red end is up meaning stop, enough, or you are so full you might throw up. There's that throw up thing again. Pitiful. You simply MUST save room for desert. Lisa had the most incredible Cream Brule. Melinda had the richest cheesecake ever. Morena had the brownie with ice cream and drizzled with caramel. I had the endless, sinful chocolate cake. Yeah, this was one of the high-lights of the conference.)
Midnight, in bed and just about asleep when Melinda sneaked into our adjoining room and climbed on the bed between Lisa and I to talk the night away. (It was like all those giggle, slumber parties growing up and every bit as fun. We also solved all the world’s problems by about 2 am.)
Invited to send full’s of three of my books. (I'm preparing to send them within the next few weeks. No pressure there. Yeah, right. Good pressure though.)
Hobnobbed with and ogled a plethora of great writers. (I began to name them here but the list grew so long, and it was getting late. I was too tired to check the spelling plus I might leave out some great author, which would offend them, so I used the greatest tool known to a writer; the delete key, and deleted the list.)
ANWA's very own Liz Adair won a Whitney Award for her COUNTING THE COST, published by another talented ANWA member, Cecily Markland's company.
Stopped by the Murray Cemetery and visited the grave sites of my dear father, grandparents, brother-in-law and some great-grandparents, great-grand aunts and uncles and double and triple greats. (It was a lovely, windy day and my heart was full to be there on sacred ground.)
Drove around my old stomping grounds from Provo to SLC. I'm proud to say I'm a Jordan Beetdigger. Any other Beetdigger’s out there?
Some great classes and a dud or two. (I'm sure that one writer's dud is another writer's favorite class. It just depends on where you are on your writing journey.)
Saw Kari Pike, and Sarah Eden, two wonderful ANWA ladies that left the sunshine of AZ for the snow of Utah.
Always wonderful to come home to my family. You rock. To quote Dorothy from one of my favorite books and movies, "There's no place like home."