I Was Promised Pie. And A Cemetery.

My trip to D.C. and the Romance Writers conference was grand. I just forgot to pack my digital camera. Nothing against iPhones, they're bloody brilliant, but they don't take great pictures indoors, like during parties. So there are a minimum of cool pix to post. But I digress.

I sailed into D.C. on Tuesday the 14th. I had a hangover. This was entirely my own fault. Why I chose to drink to excess the night before I was leaving town is unfathomable. I know better than that, however while I was rereading one of Ilona Andrews’ most excellent novels, I augmented my fluid intake with wine, schnapps and vodka. That made me one unhappy critter the next morning. Much water and Advil later, I still felt awful (as I so richly deserved). I checked into my B&B (Woodley Park Guest House - these guys get a FIVE STAR rating from me) and then met my great author buddy, Jean Marie Ward. Spider lives in the D.C. area so we set off for a walking tour of Adams/Morgan, including a delightful dinner at a Creole restaurant. She was easy on me, knowing that I FLC (felt like crap) and that my right knee can be finicky at times. Since this is a lady who can trot along at an incredible speed in heels, she was very kind.

By Wednesday I was human again. We started off at ten in the morning and I didn't get home until near eleven that night. Since I was packing the portable cane, I didn't need it once. And for some odd reason, the walking eased up the knee beautifully. We toured Lafayette Square, the Renwick Gallery, visited Black Aggie, the Freer and the Sackler Galleries, and the Library of Congress. As to the latter, this is where our books go when they get copyrighted. I didn't visit my tomes but we did take in the magnificent architecture. Built in the late 19th century, the place has all the Victorian excesses I love. Guilded everything. I could easily see some of the influence from the 1893 Columbian Exposition. We visited Thomas Jefferson's library collection (lord, did that guy love to read) and in between all our trudging we indulged in some of the most marvelous food imaginable. The Eastern Market is home to Monmartre, a French restaurant with some excellent delicacies. The gazpacho was unreal. For dinner we ate at RT's, a Creole restaurant and a long time favorite of my hostess. Then we did the Alexandria ghost tour which ended in a very old and cool cemetery.

But what about the the baked goods, you ask?Jean Marie took me home to meet her hubby, Greg (a cartoonist in his own right) and to indulge in homemade berry pie. Okay, I was spoiled. Big time. She's coming to Atlanta for Dragon*Con and I'm going to have to hustle to match her incredible hospitality. I think we'll start with the cemetery, move onto the pub and then settle in for some Jonesy Port. Yeah, that's the plan. No pie. I'm not that good at making crusts.

The rest of the conference was a blur. Thursday I attended a few panels and then the Prism Awards ceremony. I took Third Place, while Colby Hodge won the Prism for Time Travel. Colby (aka Cindy) and I found out we share the same agent, the truly amazing Meredith Bernstein. Another writer friend of mine won the Prism for Light Paranormal. Jeri Smith-Ready has been nominated for the award a couple times before, so it was awesome to see her win her very own pyramid for WICKED GAME. Very cool.

I slipped into the Kiss of Death (Daphne Awards) but the room was so crowded I retired to the bar with Jean Marie where we chatting about writing and politics while I enjoyed a modest amount of single malt (remembering my indiscretion earlier in the week).

Friday was more panels and then one of the moments I'd been waiting for: the St. Martin's Press cocktail party. I got to catch up with my dear friend P.C. Cast, whose House of Night vampire series is kicking serious butt. I think she has seven million books in print now. OMG. She and Meredith introduced me to the movers and shakers at St. Martin's. It was good to meet the folks I'll be working with. Alas, my editor wasn't there so I'll have to save that meeting for down the line. But gee, that means I just might have to fly to NYC. Darn, that would be such a penance (not).

After that party, we moved onto the Harlequin bash, which is always a blow out. P.C.'s dad (Dick) held his own with the ladies. Lord, can that man dance! I did a little dancing, but not much as the knee was bitching up a storm if I moved wrong and since it’s healing I really didn’t want to piss it off further. Jean Marie and I called it an early night about ten as we took the Metro to our respective homes. Kennedy Center was just getting out so the Metro was packed. I blended right in. For some reason I was starved, so I stopped at the McDonald's down the street from the B&B. Mind you, it's now eleven at night and I'm dressed to the nines. No one batted an eye. (And to those concerned about my safety, I’d already stripped off my costume jewelry before leaving the party and I pack a LOT of attitude).

Saturday (more panels) including one with agents Denise Marcil and Meredith Bernstein entitled The Secrets of Authors with Long Careers and How They Sustain Creativity and Success. They conducted interviews with successful authors who've stayed the course and listed out a series of traits these authors possess. Very interesting information. A few authors in the audience shared horror stories (they were truly horrific) about the uglier side of publishing. As this was a PAN workshop (part of the Published Authors Network) there were no editors present so candor was rampant. That’s a good thing. You need to know where the bodies are buried.

Though Meredith and I really wanted to go to a particularly well-recommended restaurant, they had a forty-five minute wait. We chose an Indian buffet instead and spent most of the time deep in conversation. The relationship between an agent and a client is much like a Victorian marriage at first – arranged because it suits both partners’ career and financial goals. It’s what happens after that “marriage” that counts. This was the first time I really got a chance to chat with Meredith and we made the most of it. She’s fun, intelligent, and very savvy. I sincerely respect that. In return, she respects my opinion and together we can make sound decisions as to my career. A partnership. That’s the way it should be.

I returned home to find my house clean and that my dearest spouse (sincere brownie points for this) had cleaned out the refrigerator. Wow. I should go away more often. Now that I’m over the trip lag, I’m working on projects that I’ve ignored while finishing the second draft of the manuscript. Next convention: Dragon*Con. And it's not that far away, folks!

Go West You Author

If it appears that I have fallen off the face of the planet, that is only partially correct. I've been away. Not abroad, as it were, but away. Part of that "away" involves the heavy-duty edit we're going through on the latest book (Madman's Dance). My beloved editor has pulled out all the stops this time so there's a lot of work to do. In the end, the final product will reach or exceed the standards of the other two.

The other reason I've been away from this blog is that I actually have been on the road. For the last 18 days. 5 of those days were spent in Las Vegas (actually Henderson which is just southeast of Sin City) at the home of some dear friends. It was a great way of starting the long road trip. Tony Roma ribs, beer on the back porch (with cigars) and the not quite as cool as usual evenings. I really do love Vegas, even when it's 105 degrees. Seeing my buddies was sincerely overdue.

From there I executed a short hop to San Francisco on Virgin Airlines. Never flown those folks before and they were fun. Apparently the Powers That Be allow the flight attendants some leeway when it comes to the FAA mandated safety announcements. I've heard this a million times and I turn my brain to snooze when I hear it again. Except this time the flight attendant (a guy) was having a grand time with the announcement, rifting on theme, as it were. Hilarious. And I listened. Pity more airlines don't get that clue.

I've been through SFO's airport, but not been in the town. So this was a treat. I've always snarked about why in the hell would anyone live on an active fault line knowing it's only a matter of time before the earth truly does move. Well, I apologize. Now I know why they do it. San Francisco rocks. It's a truly lovely town. They've come to an understanding of how architecture outta work: new stuff blends with old stuff. Denver is the same way. London -- not happening there. New ugly stuff doesn't compliment cool old stuff.

San Francisco has a unique feel I didn't expect. The food was awesome, some of the folks on the streets definite book fodder. I was there to attend the Romance Writers of America annual convention. I took part in the annual charity book signing event, but that was a bust for me. Usually I sell six to seven books. This year -- zip. Most of the problem was that RWA made a new rule that the books at the charity signing could only be 2007 and 2008 copyrights. That's book 2 in my series only. So if you've never read the first book, you're not going to buy the second. I was sad they missed out on the sales as it would have gone for literacy in San Francisco. Unintended consequences.

I roomed with a buddy of mine from Wisconsin (formerly of Colorado, Saudi Arabia, etc. She's been everywhere.) She was pitching to an agent and trying to get the most out of the conference. The only downside is the poor soul was suffering from a sinus infection. Jana is a very light sleeper. I can hear a mouse cough on the moon. Sinus infections = snoring. Big time. No way I could sleep that first nigh, even with ear plugs, so I donned my clothes, trucked down to the front desk and asked if we could have a roll away sent to the room. Since we didn't end up with the two queen bed room we'd originally requested (got a king instead) we were able to use the roll away.

When I returned to the room my roomie was up, worried about where I'd gone. There was a happy ending: she took some meds to help her sinuses. I put the roll away near the door, with a wall between us and lo, we both got a great night's sleep. Improvision saves your butt more often than not. To her credit, she took the roll away from that night forward as it was 1) comfortable and 2) close to the bathroom. I slept like a dream. She's a gem, that lady. (Yes, I know, a comfortable roll away bed in a hotel. Absolutely unheard of.)

The conference itself was of value. I am now considered a Published Author by RWA standards so I attended the Published Authors Network programming track. This track aims for more industry specific info such as contract negotiations, input from the major booksellers' representatives, etc. I also had the opportunity to meet with my agent. Yes folks, I've finally reached the stage where I've signed with a NY agent. I got one of the best, which shows that being patient and working hard for seven years does pay off.

After the conference ended, I got the chance to spend a day with my dear friend P.C. Cast and her daughter Kristin (co-authors of the dynamite House of Night Series). We headed up to Fisherman's Wharf, had some excellent breakfast complete with Irish Coffee and then went hunting sea lions. I have some neat pictures on my digital camera, providing I can find the sync cord to unload them (sigh). We visited Golden Gate State Park, toured the horticultural gardens, bought some goodies at a Gem and Mineral Show ( love that bling) and then gave up. Totally tired, but a very fun day. We didn't get to see any sea lions that day, but Kristen got to see a bunch of them the next. P.C. and I so rarely get to spend time together. We met 7 years ago when I was self-published and she was with a small press. She and Kristin just passed their fourteenth week on the NY Times List. Awesome.

More about the trip in the next post. I must get some work done tonight as tomorrow I'm back to Jury Duty when we learn if I've been empaneled or not. If not, I'm back in the pool. If so, I'm going to do my civic duty to the fullest. Who knows, someday somebody might have to do the same for me.