All-You-Can-Learn: A Writers Conference Buffet

Last week I attended The Storymakers Conference in Provo, Utah.

Going to a writers conference is a little like going to a buffet. You paid for it, so you’re determined to get your money’s worth. You walk in and are immediately overwhelmed by the sheer number of options. There are so many classes taught by incredible people, all happening at the same time. How do you choose between plotting, networking, Instagram strategy, querying, self publishing, traditional publishing 101, and a dozen more?

So you load up your metaphorical plate, and then spend two or three days consuming everything you can. By the end, your brain is overstuffed, your sit bones are sore, and you’re pretty sure you’ll never digest all this information.

You stagger out of the conference center like someone who just ate four plates of beautifully prepared food and a full dessert plate because, well, you paid good money for this. And you think, I am never, EVER doing this again.

But then you go home. You sleep it off (well, unless you’re me and insomnia says otherwise). And slowly, everything begins to settle.

You start to think, Wow. That was SO much fun. You realize how much you learned. You feel the spark again. And before long, you’re already looking forward to next year—because you know you’ll emerge better for it, every single time.

Three full days surrounded by great classes, authors I admire, and a creative community I adore. I met new friends, reconnected with old ones, and had experiences that left me uplifted, empowered, and edified.

One of the highlights was having a professional editor review the first chapter of my closed-door regency romance novel, A Rose for Braemore. She had three small comments on the entire 3,000 words. Three. And I could tell she had truly read it. She knew my characters and understood their dynamics. It was wild hearing someone I’d never met before speak about these fictional people I created and be invested in the beginning of the story. Visiting with her and getting suggestions and encouragement for moving forward felt like a genuine gift.

On Saturday, our keynote speaker was Jennifer Nielsen, and she said something that hit me right in the heart: “Someday your story will become someone else’s favorite story.” What a thought. The idea that something you construct over years, through hundreds of stolen hours and late nights, could leave a lasting impression on someone else. It left me with all the feels.

I write because I love the thought of creating something that outlasts me. Something that can reach out, entertain, uplift, and maybe even heal. And I cannot wait to keep going.