I found my note card of the speech and I left out one of my favorite lines. When I first thanked Mom, I said, “Without her, I truly wouldn’t be here.” 🙂
Also, I didn’t mention any classes on Saturday, which included one of my favorite workshops during the whole conference. Nancy Moser taught one called Weaving Characters Together, which was refreshing, new, and fun. If you plan on ordering the recordings of the conference, make sure to listen to this one!
Mom and I missed quite a few of the workshops because we had to fit in our five editor/agent appointments, but I still feel like I learned a lot and grew in my writerhood.
Angie Hunt’s closing speech was just as good as her others. It’s always a bittersweet time to look around a room full of like-minded people and know you won’t see them for at least another year.
Our flight left at 6:10 PM, while the conference ended at 11:30 AM. Mom and I decided to get to the airport early and walk around there instead of hanging out in the lobby. Weirdly, and I know many of you are going to find this extremely hard to believe, I feel talked out at the end of these things and can’t sit around a gab without using up a lot of energy.
As we waited for a shuttle bus, a tall man walked up to a group of us conferees and asked if anyone needed a ride because he could fit three more. (We were hanging out with fellow Oregonian, Charlotte Kardokus, again.) It was one of those awkward situations where the taxi driver’s being a little too pushy and you know he just wants more money.
Except it wasn’t. Turned out he was a fellow conferee who lived in the area and was ferrying people just to be nice!
Remember my incident of trying to smuggle granola bars through security on the way to the conference? Well, on the way home, I decided to defy explicit instructions from security. They told me to hold my boarding pass as I went through the metal detector. I realized I was a rebel just as the tray holding my shoes, purse, and bag slid into the Tunnel of X-ray. I couldn’t get it out, so I went through anyway, endured the eye-rolling of the worker, and showed him the paper as soon as it reappeared on the secure side of the room. I’m such a dork sometimes.
We shopped a few stores, ate at a mini-Chili’s, and meandered to our gate. Passengers for the plane that left before ours still filled the seats. Boarding opened soon after we arrived and Mom and I spread out over a vacated area.
The airline called for a late passenger. A few minutes later, they called for him again. And again. I think even once more. The door was shut and the aircraft pulled away. What happened just then?
Of course, the man rushed up, obviously having run a long distance to make it “on time.” He threw his jacket onto a seat in frustration, spun around, and plunked down with his head in his hands. Mom and I began crafting stories of how he would now miss the birth of his first child, or saying goodbye to his dying father, etc … We’re writers after all. But ultimately we ended up praying for him across the room. That his day would go better.
We still had hours until our plane left. With a layover, we’d be home at midnight MN time. Right about now is when Mom pointed at the reader board.
Our flight had been overbooked and they were looking for volunteers to give up their seats. We’re pretty flexible women and figured we were getting in so late anyway, maybe we could get a free flight for next year’s conference by spending the night and giving our seats away.
Instead, they moved us to a different airline. One that left sooner. And got us home HOURS before we were supposed to.
Here’s the simile: the conference played out like our flight home. We went expecting to get something of value and ended up with something far better than we could even imagine that brought us to our destination even faster.
Here’s a pic of Mom using the hand dryer in the bathroom. It’s one of those super-cool, hygienically-superior ones. You don’t touch a thing and it leaves your hands soft and hydrated (but dry) in about ten seconds.
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