On Tuesday night, I'm joining six of my Dunes and Dreams writing buddies and heading down to Orlando where the Romance Writers of America's National Conference is being held this year. Originally it was to be held in Nashville, but the hotel was flooded out when that area was hit hard by terrible rains.
It should be a blast. Of course, though, here I am, no different from last year, standing in front of my open closet wondering what I should bring to wear. Even though, I explicitly bought new clothes to wear--heaven help some member from RWA remember seeing me in something I'd worn the year before in Washington, D.C., I'm still deliberating. As you can guess, making decisions is not one of my strong points.
Then there's the fact that I'm going to moderate some poor women's workshop. Me, the person who gets so tongue-tied, you need a pair of scissors to untie it. Or I can do what I do best. Taking the first letters of two words and switching them with such ease, it's amazing. For instance, Happy Birthday is transformed into Bappy Hirthday. I'm really that good. Once I nearly did an entire sentence. I guess you can call it slight of tongue.
Then there's those 10 minutes of pitching your work where you try to convince the agent or editor sitting across from you why they should read and publish your work. Anything and everything is possible then. That's my vocal free-for-all.
My problem is that when I get nervous, I don't stutter or grow quiet, like most people. I get loud and funny. My one-liners come out in such lightning speed, even I don't know what I'm saying. If I could write some of them down, I'd be a funny writer. But, it doesn't work that way. And despite all the nerves and indecisions, I can't wait to go. I keep reminding myself that it's only 5 days out of my life and that whatever I do, I can recover.
At least I hope so!