The third and final day of the conference was theoretically the same length as the others, but thanks to a combination of sunny weather, fatigue, and mental overload, it ended for me after only three hours. I had done what I’d come to do–meet nice people, learn, and figure out what to do next with my manuscript. Anything more was gravy: the yucky kind that looks like melted candle wax.
To be fair, everybody seemed a bit paler and grumpier come Saturday morning. More than a few cut out at noon. I went back uptown for my run in Central Park, then showered and walked around the Village in comfortable shoes until L was free for dinner. By the time we were on the subway headed home, the conference seemed a bit surreal. I regret not going to the final coffee hour, if only to bring closure to the experience.
Overall, I expected a rude awakening. To hear that my writing was still crap, still obscure, still pensive-but-puzzling. Instead, I learned that my manuscript will probably at least get some request for partials, that I need to shorten my query letter, and that agents are human. (I knew that, but needed to see for myself.) It’s a good start.
Stay tuned for more on what I learned about book publicity, what’s hot in publishing right now, and other stuff that is in my already-packed-away notes.
Last night at L's
