The San Francisco Writers' Conference: On the Road to Serious Writing

As a person who has been plugging away at a novel for the last two years, I can vouch for the fact that writing a piece of more than a few thousand words takes a good deal of ambition, inspiration, determination, advice and feedback. The first three qualities come from within, but where does one go for advice and feedback?

If you're like me, a person with a gazillion other things on her plate in addition to writing the breakthrough novel (like a husband, a day job, kids, a household to keep up, etc.), time is a precious and rare commodity. I'm decades out of college and no longer have the connections of writing groups and classes. I've found great help and advice from the Internet, from small online groups to larger forums, like blogs and writing web sites and found friendly online faces that look a lot like me.

As I neared the completion of my manuscript, I realized that I needed a much broader education regarding finishing and finally selling my novel. With this in mind, I decided to investigate some literary agencies to see what I could come up with.

There are literally thousands of agents on Litmatch.net, the premier web site that features lists of agents and everything you could ever want to know about each one. This site includes links to agency web sites, and the would-be author can log in attempts, rejections and queries. A person could get a serious case of eyestrain trying to scan all the names. I decided to narrow my selection down to a few in San Francisco who handled women's literature.

It was at Litmatch that I discovered the San Francisco Writers' Conference, through the Larsen-Pomada Agency web site. The agency, run by Michael Larsen and Elizabeth Pomada, are the fine people who host the conference each year. In asking around, I learned that this conference is well known and highly touted as one of the best in the country.

I found them too late to register for 2008 but quickly reserved a spot for 2009. Attendance is kept to just 300 participants, and I wanted to make certain I had a reservation. I'm in San Francisco a few times a year since my son lives there, so it seemed like the perfect fit. This year's conference was held in February at the Mark Hopkins Hotel. My initial goal was to go and be a fly on the wall; absorb what I could so I could be better prepared for the next time.

As luck would have it, I finished the first draft of my novel on the Sunday afternoon before the conference. Giddy with delight at finally completing my epic tome (it's over 175,000 words), I sat back and basked in a glow I haven't felt in a long time. It was close to the self-satisfied emotion I experienced when I drove on my license alone the first time. My brief rest on my laurels ended when I was informed by an online writing friend that this was only the beginning.

I needed business cards, I needed a synopsis, I needed a pitch, I needed a writing web site, I needed an "elevator" line.

Huh?

It appears that writing the book is just the beginning. The rest of the process is long, and the road is a winding one.

Thanks to my friend who pointed me in the right directions, I rush-ordered a few business cards, quickly assembled a synopsis which was emailed back and forth many times and practiced my pitch. Before I left for San Francisco, I hastily set up a Wordpress writing site in advance of launching my own site and separate from my blog. I was still working on the synopsis the day before the conference and ran off a few copies at the local Kinkos on Geary Street just hours before.

Of course, I had a serious case of the jitters. My trepidation was a result of shaky self-esteem. I mean, really. Who would care about my book but me? Attending the conference would be published successful authors like Richard Paul Evans who penned The Christmas Box; there would be giants in the agent business like Alan Rinzler, Katharine Sands and Donald Maass; and well-known screenwriter, Chris Soth was also giving a workshop. After all, I'm just a writer wannabe from the Midwest. If I stepped away from my initial mission as fly on the wall, I imagined being the recipient of a world-class snubbing.

The nice thing about writers (and all creative people) is that we are all introverts. We plug away in our little rooms on our typewriters, computers or legal pads, fleshing out worlds of wonder in our heads and insulated from the "real" world. It can be a lonely business. However, get a room full of introverts together, and the protective shell comes off easily.

The first thing that struck me was that everyone was friendly. Super friendly. Authors, agents and editors were helpful, willing to answer questions and discuss topics. I met several writer-hopefuls, some of different genres and others in my own, and we commiserated about the process of writing and those others that followed, like marketing, platforms, and getting the word out. We swapped business cards and email addresses, promising to stay in touch. I also spoke to an editor of a big New York publishing house, and she was helpful beyond words.

The two and a half day conference was broken into four to five 45-minute workshops. When looking at the list of workshops, I was overwhelmed with choices. Each one sounded interesting and the topics were ones that directly related to where I was in the process.

Some of the workshops I attended included "Pitchcraft" - the twenty-five words explaining my book that would get an agent's attention; "Million Dollar Screenwriting" with Chris Soth; and book promotion on the web. I also attended some workshops given regarding the romance genre, and learned that "romance" novels extend far beyond the scope of trashy, throw away books - it's a serious business! I also attended the Donald Maass workshop, and that alone was worth the cost of the conference. The author of Writing the Breakout Novel, his presentation was a miniature version of his High Tension Workshop.

There were many workshops I didn't attend, including those geared for non-fiction, poetry and writers for young adult fiction.

I also learned that just because the novel is finished, it doesn't mean your work is over. There's editing and rewrites before the query letters ever leave your email outbox or for the Post Office. In my case, I found that having a novel of such epic proportions was a bad thing. I'm going to have to edit it down to a more manageable 100-120K words. Through other workshops, I learned about the possibility of self-publishing, and the difference between that and "vanity" publishing. I came away with a new view of publishing from the other side, that of the agent and editor. These days, most books do not command high advances from publishers, and authors are really in the dual business of selling their own work.

All in all, there wasn't a workshop I was unhappy with. I came away with more information than I could have hoped for, my head swimming with ideas and a new sense of motivation in moving toward getting my book to publication. In addition to a wealth of information, I also received a screenwriting class (complimentary) and my choice of several romance novels.

Of course, the Mark Hopkins is a beautiful facility, right across from the Fairmount Hotel. The staff was courteous, and the hotel has some of the best banquet food I've ever had. Street parking is at a premium and pay lots are expensive, which is why I had my son drop me off and pick me up each day.

I didn't mean to, but decided to try out the Agent Speed Dating. This is when you get three minutes with an agent to try to pitch your book. Although my book is far from presentable, I thought I would give it a try. There's nothing more intimidating than trying to sell yourself and your book in 180 seconds. By the time I got to the two agents I managed to speak to, they had been there all morning and by my estimation had already been pitched by at least 30 other people each. If there was one thing I wasn't happy about, it was the speed dating. The room was small and hot, the lines were long and I was only able to speak to two agents when I hoped to approach four. One was not a good fit at all, and the other agent represented young adult fiction. I decided to pitch a novella I had written in that genre to her, and she told me to go ahead and send a query letter to her. Still, it was worth the experience, and I'll know better what to do the next time around.

Oh, and speaking of the next time? That's right, I registered and paid for next year's San Francisco Writers' Conference. I had such a great time and learned so much, I'm going to do it again.