While many of you were analyzing JK’s latest character revelation, I went to my first conference down here in the south today. If you can’t tell, I never tire of saying things like “down south” or “down here”. It’s part of my southern acclamation, soon to be followed by me adorning white gloves and a pretty hat for a late afternoon tea or a tent revival or… a writers conference.

If I were a better person/blogger/writer/friend, I’d give you very detailed top-secret notes about what each house wants, things like “Mermaids are smoking” or “Lay off the manuscripts on three-toed sloths” (That was just an example. All you three-toed sloth writers, you’re doing just fine.)
Actually, I didn’t go to any editor talks, and I notice a universal theme when I do. They want good writing. So my sage advice for the day is–Learn what that is and do it. Y’all.
While we’re on universality–yes, I did just use that word–I thought I’d share five universal truths I’ve noticed about writer’s conferences, at least from my limited experience. This list is a living beast, so feel free to add your own observations

1. No matter how many of these things I go to or how many people I know, I always have a teeny tiny panic attack before I walk into the first event. It’s like every first day of elementary school rolled into one stomach of butterflies. So I do what any professional, mature adult would do. I talk to myself. In different voices. Since it was a dessert schmooze last night, I opted for British aristocracy for self #1, and the chef from the muppets for self #2 (love you heidi!)
Self 1: Come on, Lindsey. Get out of the car.
Self 2: I can’t. What do I even say?
Self 1: You walk in. Grab a brownie. Grab someone next to you. Discuss the brownies. Shove it in your mouth if they don’t answer.
Self 2: What if the brownie is gross and I spit it out and it turns out the person I grabbed was the baker and I seriously offended them. What then?
This conversation usually lasts until the guys standing by their Winnebago in the parking lot start leering at me, and I decide I’d rather face my fears than their large nascar flag. Not that I’m trying to stereotype. It was actually a nice flag.
2. The best talks are usually the ones I take the least amount of notes on.
3. The only thing more connected than the VerlaKay blueboarders is the Luxemberg mafia. I started off with a bigger mafia, but then I don’t want to get offed.
4. Saying “just joking” after trying to pitch in the middle of a workshop does not erase your stupidity. Neither is saying, “I know we’re not supposed to do this, but…” (this was not my mistake. But it was still painful to watch)
5. I’ll have a conversation with someone, anyone, walk away and replay what I just said, and realize there is a reason I am a writer. Because I sound like such an idiot sometimes, an idiot who talks really really fast.
Anyway, I’m excited to be in this new region and to get back in it with SCBWI. Oh, I just thought of one more truth.
6. When I say SCBWI, it always always takes me two tries.