OK, OK. I’m NOT Freaking Out. I’m Not…

In three days I will be attending an exclusive (I can’t even bring my fiance’), Friday night private meet-and-greet with the speakers of my SCBWI regional Saturday conference. In layman’s terms, I’ll be going to the private home of a complete stranger to mingle with some of publishing’s bigwig hotshots over drinks and hors dourves.

Eep. O.O

Not that I’m complaining. After all, it’s not every day a writer gets a chance like this. And it’s certainly the first time I ever have. But to say it’s scary, well, that’s an understatement of epic proportions!

For a girl who grew up in a pretty average middle class household in small town Idaho and Spokane Washington, this is akin to going to a White House ball. I have no idea how to dress, how to act, what to say…

OK, OK. I’m not freaking out. I swear. I’m not.


Tomorrow I’m going to get my hair done professionally and buy a new dressy outfit that hopefully won’t look too wrong on me. I have business cards and am ordering bookmarks and have done everything I’m supposed to do to get ready.

So why do I still feel so very unprepared?

Oh well. Writers aren’t exactly known for our social graces. Maybe if I act like Mark Twain it’ll be OK.

Or maybe not… Oi. Please God and all that is good in the heavens, don’t let me mess this opportunity up!


2 Responses to “OK, OK. I’m NOT Freaking Out. I’m Not…”

  1. You’ll do fine, I’m sure. My impression of publishing big wigs is that they are tired of dealing with writers who consider themselves “artists,” as if this gives them some sort of license to be rude and not take their career as a published author seriously. From what I’ve read of you’re blog you’ve got nothing to fear. So have fun! (and fill me in later).

    • Thank you. 🙂 I’ll be OK, as long as I don’t throw up on anyone. I hope there’s wine there. One glass might help. Only one. More than that and… I don’t want to know… LOL!

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