RWA 2006, Part 1

Once upon a time there was a debut author who liked going to writing conferences. She went to several per year, and always made time in her schedule for the National RWA Conference. She even did so this year, despite the fact that the conference was the week after her book came out, and she was also on a really tight deadline. Here’s what happened, in her own words:

A week ago today, I arrived in Atlanta. I spent the trip down reading the beginning of my critique partner’s latest book (which is fabulous, by the way, and nyah-nyah, y’all* have to wait until 2008 to get your hands on it!) I ran into romance author Leslie Kelly** in the terminal, but as she was riding business class and Cheapskate Peterfreund was in coach, we didn’t get to talk until after the flight. In Atlanta, I saw Maureen McGowan in the taxi line and the three of us taxi’d to the hotel. It would be my most successful taxi ride of the trip.

At the hotel, I checked in then went out to lunch with two of my best writing friends, Colleen Gleason and Jana De Leon. Colleen and Jana both sold their books in the past year, and so, according to the rules of our secret society, they had to buy me lunch. (It’s okay, as we bought them a pen.) Of course, we had champagne. Come on! I have a book just out, Collen has sold three, Jana got FOIL on her debut and has all other manner of exciting news she’ll no doubt be sharing soon… it was a champagne day if ever I heard of one. Here we are, gossiping and eating.

After lunch, I met up with Marley and got a Sorority series t-shirt. Here we are, wearing them:

And then, the Knight Agency Party. Unfortunately, I didn’t take a lot of pictures. I did, however, have great conversations with Susan Grant, Karmela Johnson, Jennifer Echols (whose amazing book, MAJOR CRUSH, is out this week!), and Kristin Nelson, who has fabulous fashion sense, and is quite tall. In fact, here’s a picture of Kristin and I showing off in front of the more vertically challenged Karmela.

I brought my brother Luke to the party, and we had a great time. TKA has the most beautiful office – gorgeous old house, antiques, manicured lawns – and they definitely knew how to throw a party. They served delicious white sangria and a variety of southern food, including homemade pralines that Tracy Farrell and I dared each other to try, and then realized that we didn’t really need a reason, because they were little bits of praline heaven. And I don’t even like sweets! Of course, you know me, I spend so much time talking that I hardly got a chance to eat. I finally met Jud and Elaine and Julie and Samantha, as well as getting the opportunity to hang out with all my TKA friends: Gena and Lauraine and Crystal and Kristen and I just know I’m going to start forgetting people, so I’ll stop now.

I got home and was starving, but the stupid hotel stopped serving at midnight, so instead of chilling at the bar with Marley and her NEC friends or Sasha, Sylvia, Renee and the rest of the Passionate Ink chapter, I went upstairs to my room (my roommate had arrived, but was fast asleep) ordered room service, wolfed down my burger in record time, and went to bed.

* By the way, I’ve decided to incorporate y’all into my writing as it has long been incorporated into my speech. It’s a crime that it is not already included in standard English usage, as most other languages have an assigned, proper term to indicate “you plural.”

** Leslie’s new book, HERE COMES TROUBLE, is out this week. And yes, this whole entry is going to be a mess of name-dropping.

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WEDNESDAY:

Woke up early, then Cheryl and I met up with Kelly and Marley and went out to Chamblee for a lovely morning at the Faded Rose Tea Garden. Kelly is quite the connoisseur of afternoon teas, and she chose well. The food was delicious. I highly recommend a trip out there if you’re ever in the Atlanta area. We had peach tea, jasmine tea, wild cherry tea, apricot tea, and French vanilla tea. The best by far was the peach tea, though others at the table thought French vanilla was a close second, I far preferred the wild cherry or apricot to the vanilla. I have completely lost my taste for sweets of late.

The food there was marvelous: three different types of scones with black currant jam, apple butter, and clotted cream; followed by a cup of delicious potato-rosemary soup with carrot and leek (Kelly says onions, but I could have sworn…); then a dish of savories, including cheese puffs, sausage rolls, and mini quiches; a tray of tuna salad pastries with tiny cherry tomatoes on top and chicken salad with grapes, celery and nuts croissants that Marley traded with me for my tuna since she couldn’t eat the nuts; and a whole tray of desserts like petit fours, mini éclairs (looked like cream puffs to me), Napoleons and chocolate covered strawberries. I had the strawberries because of the aforementioned lack of interest in sweets.

And of course it was all very high class. The china was gorgeous and antique, all the teapots came in cozies, the stacked tea trays were adorable (see photo) and the sugar was served in the form of amber crystals in a little silver sugar scuttle complete with little mini silver sugar scuttle with which to scoop. (Say that five times fast.) And, I would like to report it here first: Kelly puts so many amber crystals in her tea that when she stirs, it sounds like marbles.

The place is about a block away from the MARTA station. On the way over, the taxi driver had no idea how to find the place. On the way home, the idiot didn’t turn on the meter and then tried to charge us 9 dollars. 9 dollars! Here’s what I’ve learned from my New York buddies: if the cabbie is trying to take advantage of you, pay what you think is fair and leave it at that.

On the way home (via MARTA) we met a nicely-dressed young man who followed us from train car to train car and asked a variety of rapid-fire questions, including, but not limited to:
1. Are you here for a conference? (I’d neglected to remove my badge. Answered with, “the Romance Writers of America conference.”)
2. What kind of conference? (Answered with “it’s a conference for romance writers.”)
3. Do you know anyone that’s gotten the flu?
4. Do you know anyone with Krohn’s disease?
5. Have you ever been out of the country?

At that point, we thought it expedient to move along. Quoth Kelly, “Who is this guy, Homeland Security?” There was more, too but we’re going to leave the topic.

Cheryl and I made our way into the goody room, where we picked up some goodies and had the good fortune to run smack dab into Maria V. Snyder, whose debut book, Poison Study, we’d both read and loved last year. Then I went off with my friend Kathy Carmichael to the bookseller’s lunch, at which I saw only one bookseller. Escaping with some Passionate Ink chicas to the bar, I abandoned my promotional pursuits in favor of a margarita and chilling with folks like Sylvia Day and Sasha White. (Love Sasha White. I want to move to Canada and marry her. Actually, I think we can get married in Canada. Yay, Canada! Except she probably wouldn’t have me, confirmed bachelorette that she is.) I told the “romance romance romance!” story (totally margarita-induced) and Sylvia is now using it for blackmail.

By this point, you may have noticed a pattern to my actions at this conference. It involves a lot of eating, drinking, and gabbing with friends, and very few conference related activities. Part of the reason for that is that, well, the conference hasn’t officially started yet. But it doesn’t change once the conference does get started.

Next up was the literacy signing. As this was my first literacy signing, I was understandably excited. (For those non-RWA folks reading the blog, the literacy signing is this humongous event wherein publishers donate books and all the RWA authors sign in this huge ballroom – hundreds and hundreds of us in rows) and the proceeds are donated to a literacy program. I think this year we raised $60,000.) I had a whole vase of rose lollipops and a huge stack of bookmarks and my pen and I get there and…

There’s a little card at my place setting that reads, “Dear Author…”

Wow. That’s almost as bad as the old “Dear Writer…” rejection letters. Upshot is, they couldn’t seem to get their hands on my books. (Now we know why of course: the darn things had to be reprinted!) So I had no books. I was very depressed at first – almost cried – but Roxanne St. Claire slapped that crap right out of me (metaphorically of course) and I concentrated on meeting people, giving them lollipops, and signing bookmarks. And I finally met Alison Kent and her husband, who I kept calling “Mr. Kent.” And I kept calling her Alison. Because honestly, pen names trip me up every time. I will now be calling both Larissa Ione and Stephanie Tyler “Sydney.” See if I don’t.

I was amazed at how many people stopped by! I hope a lot of them got a chance to pick up a book at a later time. Here’s me looking dejected:

I also got a chance to hang with Mary-Theresa Hussey of Harlequin, which was great, because my main goal for the conference was to make Rachel Vincent jealous, and Mary-Theresa is her editor. Matrice and I had a nice long chat. Nyah, nyah, Rachel!

On the way out, I ran into Gena Showalter and PC Cast, who was with her publicist Sherry. We all went back to the bar to have dinner and PC and I got to chat about how fun it is to have opinions and how we don’t plan on stopping having opinions any time soon. I love PC. She’s larger than life, like one of the goddesses or warriors she talks about. Gena once again proved her superhuman qualities by eating this whole tray of nachos and then, while waiting for the check, writing a novella.

After that, I changed, got roundly joshed by Kristin Nelson for wearing the same dress as I did to the TKA party (lubs ya, KN!), and headed over to the Chick Lit Writers of the World party. This year, the planners had arranged for us to have these amazing martinis. There were two kinds, red and blue. In honor of Secret Society Girl, I stuck to red. I also gave away a basket of goodies in the raffle. Randy Bruskard won and I’ll be sending it out to her forthwith. Here’s a picture of me with Kimberley Llewellyn, a friend from Tampa whose newest book, Tulle Little Tulle Late, is an August Booksense Notable Pick.

And, as if that’s not enough, I got to spend a while at the party talking to Rachel Vincent’s agent, Miriam Kriss. Nyah, nyah, Rachel.

I ended the night with a trip up to the Knight Agency suite, where we all sat around and talked about our days. I want to work there. It seems like the most extraordinary office environment. Those girls are a hoot.

Stay tuned tomorrow for more adventures, including: Diana commits fraud, Diana stalks a NYT besteselling writer, Diana has a public smackdown with one of her favorite authors, and “Surrey with a Fringe on Top.”