Cheers to reinventing

Summer, although technically just beginning, is winding down in my home, on my calendar, and before my eyes. School starts in August around these parts and this year school has a different connotation then it ever has before, and I just might be panicking. Madison leaves early this year to return to school because she will be a resident assistant and has two weeks of training. While I felt we had an entire month still to go, as each day slowly ticks by I realize with vacation and my conference there isn't that much time left.

I'm not that far into the reinvention of my life. Each day there is a an excuse reason for not writing; dorm shopping, filling in for someone at work, medical and dental appointments, the sun is shining and fat tan looks better than not. I buckled down last week and spent time at the library quietly writing. I was there for hours and did accomplish some rewrites despite having to move areas twice due to unforeseen complications. I tell myself I'm determined each time I feel the squeeze of the end of summer, knowing soon the job I've held for twenty years will be over. So many firsts this year and so many more to come.

People laugh when I say I'm quiet. These people don't know me as that, but when I'm stepping outside my comfort zone I have little confidence, always have been this way, and so when I made the decision to travel north yesterday to meet with a group of area romance writers, I gave myself mental pep talks as soon as I rolled out of bed. Dressing in the new blouse I had purchased the previous day and slipping into shoes I knew would cause me anguish later, I lectured myself.

Me: "For heaven's sake, you're 52 years old and these people won't give a damn. Put on your big girl panties and do this thing."

I've devoured tons of information on my new project. I've researched and read just about every author, website, pamphlet, article, and book there is on the subject. I discovered this group after joining the national organization, but I discounted it because...ugh...Tampa? I don't go to Tampa unless I'm going to the international airport. I call it the "big city" or "New York city" and avoid it at all costs because it is the unknown. Out of my area of expertise.

But lately, I've wondered if I'm even on the right track. Sure, I've read and read and read these types of books. So much that sometimes I read two or three in a day, but there is always that nagging, poking in the back of my head that leads to the question, "Am I on the right track?" If only I had someone to read my first chapter to tell me, "Go, girl, you got this!"

I happened to revisit the group's website, knowing the meeting date was coming, and low and behold this date was a time for reading chapters! It was another sign! Madison gave me my pep talk, and I put it in my calendar and made plans. I hadn't joined the organization and by not doing so I couldn't fill out the required form for the reading of my chapter, but I took a copy with me "just in case". I left an hour early, fired up the Google Map app, put on my big girl undies, and headed north.

It was smooth sailing and I arrived with fifteen minutes to spare. I brought everything with me because I didn't know exactly what to bring, and when I saw a woman with her laptop case, a bag, and a purse exiting her car, I felt even better and hauled in my own baggage. I followed her through the restaurant and into a back room. All eyes turned to me questioningly when I entered, and so I took a deep breath, and stated I was new.

Here I come new life!

It was a wonderful experience. My chapter wasn't read, but others were and that alone gave me confidence. I met women from my county. I met women like me who just want to finish a book. I met women who will be attending the conference for the first time and had the same questions I did. I met another newbie attending for the first time. I stood up in front of all of them and gave them my story. All of them were kind and welcoming and I, well, I was not the me I remembered. I wasn't nervous. I didn't feel out of my depth. I felt only intrigue and interest. I felt good.

We broke into groups, allowing me to meet more authors, and we did an exercise of pitching to an editor or an agent. Those who will be doing so at conference gave their pitches to a published, experienced author while the rest of us gave feedback. I learned TONS from that. We critiqued writer's chapters, and I didn't even get through all of them because that exercise is something I'm confident with having done so many peer reviews, not to mention my friend's and my children's papers. Sorry, ladies, if I gave you more feedback than you wanted.

I passed out my newly minted business cards and received cards. I spent a half an hour asking the questions that worried me about the conference. I laughed and talked to the women at my table and exchanged phone numbers to hook up at the conference. It was five and a half hours of learning new things, of building up my confidence level, and in the end I left invigorated and ready to write. It didn't even matter that I got turned around on the drive home and drove a few miles out of my way before I realized it. I was happy I realized it, recognized the area to turn around in, and got myself heading back home.

Maybe this new direction in my life won't be so bad after all.