Harriett Austin Writers' Conference, The Business of Writing and Its Adverse Affects, Harry Potter

People are beginning to email me, impatient that I haven't posted what my first writers' conference was like. Truth is I am trying to assimilate the information, decide whether I found it to be of benefit and what I would like to say about it. On top of all that, Harry Potter came out and I would be lying if I said that it didn't distract me. It has been calling me, "Dia...Dia....don't you want to know who dies???" Very distracting to say the least.

So last night I finished Harry Potter. Don't worry, there are no spoilers here. I will say I enjoyed the last half better than the first. I encourage people who are reading the first half with mounting apprehension, to keep reading and do not skip to the end and read the last few pages. Trust me, you are going to like the ending. It is all alright. Just keep reading. I will also say that my husband is glad I finished. Our house was punctuated with gasps and shouts of, "NO!" or "GET OUT!" last night for a good four hours. He was really tired of saying, "What? What happened..no wait, don't tell me." Dang, how can any writer ignore the release of Harry Potter this week, but enough of that.

I am completely bogged down in the business of writing and it is making me crazy. OK crazier than I would be normally. With contracts looming in front of me and some serious obstacles toward publication, I feel like I have landed on the planet of publishing and do not quite speak the language. I spoke with a lovely agent yesterday who said I was afraid of a "turnip contract."

Confused about this farming metaphor, especially since I was raised on one, she carefully explained that I didn't want to be the turnip that feel off the truck, got picked up and eaten alive. I concur. That is most certainly a fate I am currently worried over. Having a back ground in business does not help this. I feel like I know enough to see the pitfalls, or some of them anyway; however, if I do not find them in time, I could easily succumb to turnip syndrome.

I had high hopes that theHarriett Austin Writers' Conference would help elevate some of my stress and give me better bearings. I went looking for answers about how to find an agent, how to begin to submit magazine articles and enter contests and how to make myself more marketable. I learned many things; however, answers to these specific questions were not forth coming.

How to Find An Agent?

Evidently, you don't. I asked several published authors how they found their agents and got evasive answers as if they were protecting some vein of gold they had found to mine. The one who finally answered the question said, "I was sitting in the airport and we struck up a conversation." I am still not sure if I believe him.

I went to classes held by a guy named Chip MacGregor about agents and the business of writing. I found Chip to be personable, well, vivacious, well, a consummate salesman who has honed his pitching skills so that he doesn't come off as a used car guy. He has a small clientele that is made up mostly of authors who are Inspirational Fiction. Just in case you guys are as clueless as I am, Inspirational Fiction is code for Christian Fiction. I have NO clue why they would use "inspirational" to describe it; however, not being a Christian I suppose I really don't care.

Chip gave a session on working with an agent that I found moderately helpful. Filled with information I had already researched and received from other sources. The second class of his I attended was called "Making a Living at Writing." I had hoped to hear specifics about submitting articles and the like; however, he gave seven rules to becoming a successful writer. You know like "be organized," "be focused," and "be disciplined." I enjoyed this one better and was disappointed that it didn't address what I had hoped.

Other Sessions

Lucy Rosenthal gave a creative writing class. I got much from the exercises she sent us before the class; however, the class itself was a bit unhelpful.

I went to a copyright seminar with a law guy. I was amused to discover that something is copyrighted the moment that it is in it's final form. So this blog is, in essence, copyrighted.

I also attended a seminar called Money for Nothing and Your Clicks for Free where I discovered that I was already doing everything that the presenter was going to suggest about increasing traffic to ones website and there by increasing ones on presence on the web. She gave some suggestions that I hadn't heard of that she didn't really cover in depth. The class ended up being filled with people who were a bit electronically challenged. I felt like Hermione Granger with my laptop and hand up with an affirmative at every question.

Other People

At the Meet and Greets, dinners and in the corridors I met lots of nice people. Nancy Love, an agent from New York was extremely helpful and kind to give her time to me. I also met Chuck Sambuchino. Who was a pleasant guy who listened to me ramble about my challenges and was encouraging.

I met a man named William E. Bray who had written the book Your Spiritual Lineage: Researching the Genealogy of Your Soul. Bray was a fascinating man whom I enjoyed talking with him over dinner. I bought his book and he introduced me to his partner at Bilbo Books (no link available at this time), Bowman. Bowman was a hilarious guy and if I were single, skinnier and younger, I would be in Athens next weekend chasing him. All seriousness aside, he gave the impression of a driven young man who was passionate about life. He was a joy to talk with.

College Haunts

Sitting with Bray and Bowman the first time I met them was an extraordinary woman by the name ofGeri Taran. She was so engaging, friendly and passionate about all things writing. She has established an online group called In the Company of Writers to present webinars about writing to busy writers. I think the idea is brilliant and from what I have perused, something well worth the time and effort.

Geri and I also shared a "it's a small world moment." I was talking about my background, once again explaining why a bred and born Georgian didn't sound southern. "I took Shakespearean Theatre as a concentration in college," I explained. Geri sat straight up and demanded to know the name of my alma mater. When I said, "North Georgia College and State University," she squealed and said, "Then Brian Jay Corrigan was your professor."

Now I must say I was shocked that she would know this. I might also say that out of my many mentors and professors at my beloved NGC&SU, Brian would not rank as high as some thers. I found him to be brilliant, truly outstanding in his field. No bull here, I watched him carefully and come to deeply respect him. However, I constantly got the idea he would just as soon work with a toad than with me. My ex also had Brian in college and loved him. Brain inspired in him creativity and a drive few others could. I recently ran into Brian on the streets of Dahlonega, attempted to make a polite conversation and introduce him to my son. My ex has told my boy all about theatre and working with Brian, so I thought it might be nice for him to get a taste of my ex husband's favorite professor. From my perspective, I was completely snub which simply served to confirm his contempt for me years and years later.

As all of this washed over me, I looked into Geri's eyes knowing full well she expected me to gush about Brian's brilliance. Having had a glass of wine, which you all know I never do, I was very forthright about my opinion of the man, to my horror. So I tried to change the subject and drink more wine. I apologized the next day for my blunt, even if it was truthful from my perspective, comments. I continue to hope that Geri doesn't judge me too harshly for one comment on one day after more wine than I had had in four years.

Then today I went on line to see Geri's site and out of curiosity saw the link on that same site about Brian. I clicked on it and would you believe that Brian is the recipient of the 2006 Georgia Writers Association Author of the Year! I was shocked and a bit humbled. I never even knew he had an interest in writing. He has written a book called The Poet of Loch Ness. According to the link I have given, he has received rave reviews and it seems translated it into Gaelic. I was stunned to think how much he and I actually have in common. It occurred to me that we probably didn't like each other because we are in many ways, alike. I bet he is as mortified as I am at that prospect.

It got me to thinking about college and the changes that come after those formidable years. I look back now and see what I was involved with and where I was heading and shuttered. My life now is so completely different. It makes me wonder if professors remember to let their students grow up? I certainly did not allow Brian the room to grow, change and become something more than I had perceived all those years ago.

Well, enough about old places, times and people. Geri gave me one of the greatest comments ever. After listening about what my current project is she exclaimed, "But you don't even look like a witch!" Sitting there in my black pearls, long black skirt, conservative purple top and brand new heels, I was overwhelmed with thanks. I hope that I look like me, was my reply. I owe Geri a reading for her loving support, kindness and willingness to forgive a moment of weakness after my first glass of wine in four years.

Other Writers and Witty 86-year-olds

I also was privilege to meet the Southern Scribes, all of them. I met Genie first who thought she knew me. She provided me with the startling revelation that Harriett Austin was a woman who was still alive. I turned to her and said, "I wasn't sure she existed." In reply, Genie drug me over to a small woman of eight-six and introduced me. Explaining that I wasn't sure of her existence. Ms. Austin turned to shake my hand and said, "That's o.k., I am not sure that I exist either."

I also met Patricia and Kathy who have agreed to work with me on a small on line critique group. They were always ready with a quick smile and encouragement. I thoroughly enjoyed meeting them and look forward to continuing our relationship in the future. They both exposed me to the Atlanta Writer's Club. http://www.atlantawritersclub.org/

Conclusions

I liked it. I wish my fiction manuscript had been ready for review and entrance into the contest. It wasn't; however, it is a goal to shoot for. I wasn't blown away by the seminars; however, next year I have a better feel for what I might like to take and could choose better. So I don't know. I think time will tell.

For the record, Tony says it was worth it completely as do Sharon, my friend who owns her own business and is more business savvy than even I am. I, however, am concentrating right now on the looks of fascinated horror anytime I explained what my project was about. I have rarely experienced so much caution when it came to my religion than I did this weekend. It was like I had stepped out of my world where Wiccans and witches just are and into a world where I was an alien that needed to be avoided. ... or maybe they would just prefer to work with toads, too.

Sarah at My Home, Tony Cries, Medium Readings, Dreams, Being Cassandra

This week has been interesting. I got my query letters off and spent some of the week running around with my boy. Then Sarah finally brought my two goddess daughters over (goddess daughter number 3 was with Grandma). The youngest had had a virus most of the week and that had prevented Sarah from coming earlier. Sarah ended up spending the night.

When Tony came home he a was greeted by two women and an enthusiastic two year old. Kahlan crawled into his lap and was hugging on him and loving on him. I was feeding the baby while Sarah was doing other mommy things. I looked over and noticed that Tony looked like had a migriane so I asked him if he did and could I get him something. He picked up Kahlan and turned away from me, then I realized he was crying. I am unsure if he was crying because he would love to have another child or if he was just overwhelmed by the affections of a little girl. It was all in all quite touching.

For dinner I made lasagna. I used a recipe I got from a book called Basic Cooking by Jennifer L. Newens and Sebastien Dickhaut (neither have a web presence at this time). It has you make a béchamel sauce, which is a white sauce with nutmeg and lemon zest. You use this sauce as an additional layer and it adds a unique flavor to the lasagna. While we ate, we watched the first half of The Two Towers. This is Sarah's favorite of the trilogies. Then Sarah and I exchanged readings. Sarah used a new divinatory system that I was gifted a while back called the Sacred Circle Stones. It is a fabulous little oracle and Sarah really enjoyed using them. I used my deck, The Witches Taro। I have had this deck for years now and it is well worn and loved. I don't think Sarah or I heard anything that was surprising to us. This can be the trouble of reading for a friend.

The next day Sarah and I went shopping at Wal-mart and then went for sushi at The Green Tea, my favorite Sushi restaurant in my home town. She dropped off Connla and I. We spent the afternoon playing Pokemon Diamond and Pearle. It was kind of fun. Connla won and wouldn't give me a re-match. However, I am going to get him next time! Connla hasn't worked on his website recently. Maybe we can rectify that next time he is home. For now, he has gone to be with his dad for ten days and his being gone will unfortunately coincide with Tony traveling to California on business.
After Connla left for his dad's, I made some phone calls and then at six, I called a man who was looking to connect with his recently departed sister। With his sister, I had one of the most powerful connections I have ever had. Maybe she is so recently gone that she isn't controlling how much information is getting dumped or maybe she was just such a powerful entity that it was overwhelming. I can not be sure; however, I know it was a profound reading. The man I did the reading for was very grateful and told me that I "put him at ease and peace." That is why I do readings in the first place. It was nice to know the reading had been successful. The connection I made with this spirit was really significant and I asked her if she would aid me at some other time and she agreed. She evidently knew she would cross the veil and then linger deliberately to help others. It is a choice she has made. After the reading she stayed around the house, happy, I think to have done her first good deed.

I was really buzzed after the reading and took hours to come down. Finally, I crawled into the bed and had a series of dreams that were all the same.

I am in church with my mother. Everyone is talking about how cold it is, really cold, unusually cold. My mother seems happy that is cold and is talking about making a fire. In one of the dreams, we are looking at the chimney and it is clogged up with soot. I tell her that I am sure Dad would have one of those Chimney Sweep Logs and that we should use that first, before we start any other fires. I realize however, that a fire as already started in the fireplace and I start trying to clear the clogs. My mother joins me and we frantically try to clear the clogs; however, we are not successful and I wake up.

In other versions of this dream, I am in church and then my mother and I leave. I remember thinking how odd the sermon was and then I realize my father isn't there. I ask my mother where he is and she says he is at Mr. Camel's house. Sometimes, she would spell his name for me, Clamal, which is not how you spell camel. She would grow more and more frantic asking me what the number of Clamal or Camel was. I kept asking her why she thought I knew. I would wake up after my mother had grown so frantic that she is screaming at me. When I fell back asleep the dream would start again.

Finally, I took my attention off of my mother, in my dream state, determined to end this bizarre dream cycle I found myself in. I started looking around the room. I noticed a picture on the wall that looked like old art. It had camels in it. I got closer and closer and saw the camel had some kind of riding bridle on it and it had the world CAMEL across it. The picture seems familiar to me, like I had seen it before. I studied it and got closer and closer trying to remember why the picture looked familiar. Suddenly, in my dream I knew what Camel's number was and woke up.

I got dressed and then walked in the great room of our house where you can literally see the kitchen, dinning room and living room all from being in any of these areas. Tony was doing his breakfast dishes.

I announced, "My father is dying of lung cancer." Tony sat with me and asked me what I dreamed. I relayed the dream to him and then asked if I should bother telling my mother or not. We both decided that telling her would alleviate any regrets I may have later for not telling her. I would never even dream of telling my father, for reasons of my own.

Before I even had breakfast, I had called my mom. I told her about my dream and that I had just recently had a serious encounter with the other side. She gave me her I am extremely uncomfortable with you now and am going to get off the phone as quickly as possible response. I get this response all the time, especially when she calls me and asks me what I am doing and I say, "I am at a gathering" or "I am working on my book." Then she asks, "What's a gathering?" or "What book are you working on?" and I say, "A gathering is where pagans get together to learn, worship and fellowship" or "Mom, my book is about family's and spirituality - you know my witch book." Then she pauses and gets that fake cheery voice that tells me her incredible powers of denial have kicked in and says, "I have to go the library (store, cook dinner, get my hair done) now. I love you. Ba-bye!" The line goes dead and I know I have lost her.

Usually, I understand that I am delving into spirituality in ways that my mother doesn't want to know about. I know that she was raise in a Southern Baptist environment in the heart of the Deep South and that she went to Tennessee Temple University in Chattanooga, TN। I understand that I have been bold in my life where she has chosen a safer route. I know from my grandmother that the etheric and all the possibilities it unleashes scare her. I will always remember her saying to me, "When you have these dreams, these visions, these feelings, don't tell your mother. She is afraid. Don't you be afraid, just keep them in you heart like Mary. The Bible says, "But Mary kept all of these things, and pondered them in her heart." (King James Version, Luke 2:19)

"You keep them in your heart, you ponder them," she would tell me.

She went on to tell me to ponder things for a long time and that there would be a time when I wouldn't have to hid my pondering and could share it. Not everyone was like her and I and not everyone approved of such things, especially in the church.

Living in this world of magic and intuition. I am surrounded by people who love me and support my gifts. Tony, Connla, Sarah, Crystal, Cam, Becky, my entire Family Coven, FWTI and new people I meet, like the man I mediumed for just yesterday. Their love and support keep me from insanity. It hasn't always been like this.

I once went to a gathering of elders and fell into reading for them. Finally, one elder watched me read for someone else (with the querent's permission). When the reading was over, the elder crossed her arms and stared at me. Finally, she pointed at me and said, "You are...are...are a psychic!" I looked up at her and said, "Yes, isn't everyone here?" indicating the elders who were gathering around us, the witches, Wiccans and neo-pagans. She said, "No, you don't understand, you really are. I don't want anything to do with you now." With that she left the room, and relations between us were strained ever after. She was afraid, just as afraid as my own mother continues to be.

So here I am, years later, in a much better place and my mother is dismissing me and everything I have to tell her. I got to thinking about Cassandra in Greek mythology who was doomed to be a great prophetess no one ever believed. I had someone once call me Cassandra and even accuse that I must have been Cassandra in a past life. I don't know about all that; however, I can say that the gifts of my family line have been challenging. It then occurs to me that I have named my cats Morgana in honor of The Morrigan and Cassandra. One cat representing the ease in which The Morrigan walks between this world and the next and the other representing the lack of belief others have in the truly gifted. I had never even thought of this before.

Today, I sat with the phone in my hand and decided, I had to be bold again and recruit the one person my mother might listen to, my brother Dean.

I called Dean and we small talked about his boy Logan and his wife's current pregnancy, then I launched in my explanation for the call and asked him to work on my parents for me. Dean surprised me today. During my conversation, I worked in the word "pagan" and even talked freely about mother and I debating theology. I told him I wasn't credible because I had left the church. He mentioned our other sister, whom I haven't spoken to in years. What I got from Dean today was acceptance. He agreed with me that my dream was significant and he wasn't surprised at it's foretelling. I was elated and uplifted. I also knew, I had done all that I could.

Tony and I worked on the Jeep today which has some minor issues. We were test driving it after he had worked on it and talking more about the unusual dream and what connection it might have with the women I spoke with last night. I got that prickle as I asked the question, the one that tells me to pursue it, I am on to something. Tony and I switch who was driving and I called the querent from yesterday. I asked him if his sister had died of lung cancer and he said that his mother had, sort of. Both his mother and sister had died in March, years apart. They both had died of cancer. His mother's started in the colon and liver and traveled to the lungs. His sister's cancer had started in the liver and colon too. Both had discovered the cancer and quickly died, within six weeks of diagnosis.

I hung up and frantically called my brother back. I relayed the information to him. We were both shaken up. My mother has had liver issues for years and March is less than one year away. He assured me he would urge them both to get check ups. One thing I know is that Dean will hound my parents until they give in and he typically gets his way.

While I was writing this journal, I ran a search on clamal and clemal. Clamal Cell is a product that I got one random hit on. I have written the website to discover what dis-ease it is used to treat in some hopes that might be a further clue. I got no hits on clemal. I am also struck by the similarity to cell mal or bad cells. Cancer cells are certainly mal, very very mal. If anyone else has some suggestions about what clemal or clamal might mean, please post a comment! I would love to hear from you.

I have to send a blessed thank you to Joy, the sister I communicated with last night. I do think Joy stayed around my home and I do think she is responsible for the information I have received. I remember distinctly that she kept pointing to her back and saying that she had wings, despite the fact that I could not see them. In this case however, she was an angel who helped others. I hope this good deed is what earns her wings for her. Every time a bell rings, an angel gets her wings.