I'm leaving on another trip tomorrow afternoon, nowhere near as exotic as Bhutan, but perhaps more intimidating. I'm going to Homer for the Kachemak Bay Writers' Conference. I've never been to a writers' conference before, and I'm a little nervous.
Realistically, there's nothing to be nervous about. The conference will consist primarily of panel discussions, workshops, and informal writing circles - I imagine it'll be like being back in school for a few days. However...however, there will also be opportunities to talk about my writing and my writing goals and dreams, and that scares me more than just a little bit.
If I make the most of it, this will be an opportunity to talk with published authors, editors, and other writing professionals. The main reason I'm attending the conference this year is that the keynote speaker is Barry Lopez. He was one of my heroes when I was in high school as the author of Of Wolves and Men. More recently, I renewed my acquaitance with him by reading About this Life: Journeys on the Threshold of Memory, a wonderful book of essays. It's unlikely I'd be able to dig my copy of Of Wolves and Men out of the shed in time, but I'll definitely be taking About this Life with me in the hopes of getting an autograph.
I won't even fantasize about getting to talk with Mr. Lopez about writing, especially my writing, but there will be a number of other well-known authors in Homer as well, and there's a distinct possibility of being able to talk with one or more of them. Dear god, what will I say? Sure, I have writing dreams, but nothing particularly well formulated or ready for public consumption.
So, I'll do my best not to lose sleep over this during the next several days, and I'll ask you to send me good wishes so that I'll be able to speak competently, and without my all-to-frequent premenopausal lapses in vocabulary recall. I'll let you know how it goes.
