First Conference: The Aftermath

I'm back. As expected, I survived despite my anxiety. The trip to New York was great, and I gladly accept the resulting exhaustion. Since I went primarily for a conference, and conferences are for learning, I'll share a few things I learned.

• If I'm going to take red-eye flights, I need to learn how to sleep sitting up.

• I still love NYC. Cabs accepting credit cards makes it even better.

• Meg Rosoff and Mo Willems are entertaining/fascinating enough to keep me wide awake no matter how little sleep I've had. And Shaun Tan is brilliant. (I must check out the work of all three.)

• We need to shrink geography or come up with more time-effective methods of travel so there aren't thousands of miles between me and the likes of Mindy McGinnis, MarcyKate Connolly, Charlee Vale, and Matt Sinclair.

• Speaking of ... Mindy after a few glasses of wine isn't very different from regular-Mindy. And MarcyKate needs a medic as part of her personal staff.

• Editors are people, too. People who dress better than I do, but people nonetheless.

• While I've gotten pretty good at forcing myself out of my introvert tendencies, I can only push them away for so long. (Mindy was very proud of me for managing the shindig Saturday night as well as I did. But I was definitely ready to head back to the room when we did.)

• Mindy's anecdotes on her blog are awesome as-is. But when she tells stories in real life, she reenacts. This is not to be missed.

• Cupcake love forever!

The bottom line is that I need to head back to NYC before too long. (And yes, I know my sister will insist on coming along that time.)

First Conference Anxiety (Hold Me)

I've been to a number of math ed or deaf ed conferences, but never a writers' conference. It's something I've been interested in doing, so I was on the lookout for a good one to start with. Something local. Maybe regional. If I could just find one with the right timing.

But no. Thanks to Peer Pressure Practitioner extraordinaire Mindy McGinnis, I'm kicking off my writers' conference experience at the winter conference for the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) in New York.

This is a good thing. I've been wanting to go back to New York since the first (only) time I went, when I was a teenager. I'll get to hang out with Mindy and MarcyKate Connolly. I'll get to meet people like my editor, my agent, and friends from AQC.

But I'm an introvert. And a worrier. So while there's a lot of anxious-excited going on, there's also plenty of just-plain-anxious.

A sampling:

• My classroom. It needs to be ready for my absence. That means prepping the students and getting sub plans ready. Considering the other ninth grade teacher and I have barely been able to get ready a day in advance most of the year, this is worrisome.

• Packing. I haven't gone anywhere other than between my apartment and my parents' house in years. My sister has half the stuff I might need, so packing for home never took much forethought.

• My first flight in over seven years. I have no problem with flying. Delays leading to missing my connection ... that's gets me going.

• Speaking of flights, I'm taking my first red-eye. I've never had any success at sleeping sitting up. At all. This could be interesting.

• Getting around. Yes, I've been to New York before. Took the subway. Took a cab. But I was with a youth symphony group, so I was never in charge. Is it sad that the idea of hailing a cab makes me anxious? Go ahead and laugh at me.

• On a related note, tipping. I come from a world where the only tipping that happens is at a restaurant (which I'm great at). Honestly, I rarely use cash these days. I'll need to figure this out.

• Being social. Did I mention I'm an introvert? I have plenty of experience forcing myself out of my comfort zone, but it takes energy.

• Oh, yeah. Energy. I have to go directly back to work just over twelve hours after arriving home. Survive Tuesday through Friday before crashing on Saturday (most likely).

Okay, this sounds dangerously close to complaining about something I really am excited for.

Just anxious, too.

Sometimes being a grown-up is overrated.