Writer’s Conferences – Are They Worth It?

by Janis Patterson

It seems everywhere you look someone is advertising a writer’s conference and, truth be told, there used to be more than today. Some offer contests, some don’t. Almost every one offers one-on-one meetings with agents and editors. (At least, almost every one I’ve ever heard of.) Some are very good. Some aren’t.

There are three basic kinds of writer’s conference – first, what is basically a reader’s conference where readers can come and interact with writers. There is a bookstore and a book signing, lots of reader-oriented events, and maybe a few craft or market sessions for the writers themselves.

Second, there is a not-always-happy mixture conference, combining working professionals, newly published and aspiring authors. I almost said wanna-bes, but have been informed that in this oppressively and obnoxiously Politically Correct world such an appellation is condescending and prejudicial. Perhaps, but in too many cases it’s also true. Yes, some of these ‘aspiring authors’ will soar and sell many more books than I can ever hope to, but… most won’t, and some will never even sell one. Some come just to hang out with their favorite authors, even if it is from a distance, so they can tell their friends “Oh, when I was at such and such conference with – insert name of favorite author here – we did such and such…” never bothering to mention that there were several hundred people doing the same thing. For some writers, though, this is the best kind of conference to attend.

Third, there is a conference for professionals, where it is working writers only with a concentration on the business side of the writing game, including everything from foreign markets to designing a book cover for self-publishing authors.

Are conferences worth it? I say yes, providing you go to the right conference for what you want.

Reader’s conferences are great for authors who want to interact with their fans and hopefully meet new ones to increase their readership. I’ve never been to one of these, mainly (1) because my readership only goes to a select few of them and (2) so far I haven’t had the money. I do have hopes, though.

The mixture conference is a toss-up. Some swear by them and go as often as they can, hoping to combine craft, market information and interaction with newly or unpublished writers. Not my taste, but there are those who swear by this often contradictory mixture.

Writing is a business and I believe in a business conference being exactly that – all about business. Last month The Husband (who does work as my assistant) and I attended the NINC (Novelists, Inc.) conference in Florida. It was held at the TradeWinds resort in St. Pete Beach, which by itself was a great inducement to attend. It’s a beautiful resort with wonderful restaurants, entertainment opportunities and a lovely stretch of beach. Semi-sad thing is, though, that the conference was so dense and so overwhelmingly good that The Husband and I only got to walk on the beach once!

From the first moment of the welcome reception on Wednesday night to the last moment of Lou Aronica’s fabulous Unplugged speech (and this year he even sang!) at Sunday noon, there was never a spare moment. Workshops began at 8:30 am and the Night Owl sessions usually ended around 10:30 pm. In the middle was a fantastic mixture of knowledge and socializing and networking and fabulous food and at least half a dozen other things. The theme for this year’s conference was NINC World. Not all the workshops specialized in global publishing (both traditional and self) and there were many in all aspects and areas of the business of publishing.

There were no booksignings nor a bookstore, as much for the fact that there was no time for any such as that this is strictly a professional conference. There are no beginning or even intermediate craft workshops (and to be honest, I don’t remember a single craft workshop this year) but there were lots and lots of workshops about the business of writing, whether you are traditionally or self-published or both. To come you have to be a member of NINC (or the assistant to one), and that is a membership not easily won. There are both publishing and income standards that must be met, and only then can the applicant be voted on by the membership.

Most of us have limited conference dollars, and if you’re considering going to a conference, think long and hard about which kind of conference you wish to attend. What is your skill level? Where are you in the profession? What do you hope to accomplish at a conference? And lastly – what can you afford? The entry fee might sound very reasonable (or not) but that’s not the only expense; you have to factor in transportation, lodging, and food at the very least. Some conferences include all meals, some a few and some none. I’ve never heard of a conference fee encompassing lodging. And you have to get there. All of these expenses add up and must be considered.

Which conference is right for you is something only you can decide, and we are lucky in that there are all kinds of writer’s conferences out there from which we can choose.

Conference Memories

by Janis Patterson

It couldn’t have been any better. A lovely resort right on the water’s edge in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. A wonderful conference of professional writers. The Husband beside me the whole time, absorbing and learning. Seeing old friends and making new ones. It really couldn’t have been any better.

The conference was for Novelists, Inc, more familiarly known as NINC, an organization of multi-published writers. I have been a member for a while, but this was the first conference time and finances allowed me to attend. This was also the first conference where Author Support Teams (read assistants) could attend – not just professionals who handle lots of authors, but family members and friends. Professional, multi-author assistants have always been allowed to come as Industry Guests, and they had/have a different fee from both authors and AST people.

Yes, The Husband has decided that my time is better spent writing than doing a lot of clerical chores like posting excerpts, seeking reviews and tracking sales. (Of course, his decision was very much urged by me, but in the end it was completely his decision.)

I don’t think he realized how exhausting writers’ conferences could be. Accustomed to the regulated pace of military and public health gatherings, he seemed to be a bit overwhelmed by the frenetic energy of a hotel full of writers.  Generally solitary creatures who sit alone in rooms with lots of imaginary people, when we writers actually get together with others of our kind the results are electric. We don’t have to worry about someone calling the cops if they overhear us talking about the best way to poison someone undetected or gape in unabashed curiosity as we talk about the tangled lives of our characters. They are writers, and they understand.

But it wasn’t just writers. Sharing the magnificent hotel with us was the South Carolina chapter of the barbershop singers’ (can’t remember the exact name) organization. Perhaps writers aren’t the only unusual people out there. In the hallway we had to edge our way past masked men singing cowboy songs. In the morning, in the elevator going down, we were serenaded by men in tuxes singing Lida Rose. That evening going back up we were treated to a group in the worst looking arab costumes I’ve ever seen (one was a bathrobe!) complete with cheesy plastic swords belting out an enthusiastic version of The Riff Song by Romberg. It was definitely a surreal experience. 

The writing workshops, however, were all business. There were reps from the major self-publishing platforms, a traditional publishing editor or two, a couple of agents, a TV packager and more. We had in-depth sessions on audio books, the interrelationship between story and life, how books become movies, and of course several workshops on both being and working with an assistant. It was all fascinating.

Then there were the Early Bird and Night Owl sessions. There were several Early Bird sessions I wanted to attend, and I’m not sure if I did nor not. They begin at 8 am, and my brain doesn’t go online until 9. I hear they were great, however, and contradicted my long-held belief that nothing good ever happens before 10 am. The Night Owl sessions began at 8 pm and ended at 10, and they were just as splendid. Among other things, I learned secrets of blogging more efficiently and how to use the Tarot as a plotting device when I’m stuck.

I hate to handwrite anything and have not yet mastered the art of taking notes on a computer, but still managed to use almost a full legal tablet for notes. I ran into old friends not seen for years and met lovely new ones. The Husband and I even managed a few romantic dinners alone and a couple of walks on the beach. Yes, it really couldn’t have been any better. The conference was the most professional writers’ conference I’ve ever attended; it was so impressive that we’ve already registered for next year!

As for The Husband… I think he enjoyed it. He said he learned a lot. When I asked him what was his main take-away from the conference, he thought for a minute, then announced, “I’m glad I’m not a writer.”