Ever wish you could talk to your younger self?  Offer advice?  Maybe add a warning or two?  (Stay away from that boy.  I'm serious.  And that haircut makes you look like a poodle.)  Or maybe just let your self know you'll grow up to be OK.  That the trauma will somehow make you stronger.

Well, Dear Teen Me gives you the chance to read the letters that authors for teens and tweens wish they could send back in time.  Some are funny, some are serious, some are heart-wrenching.  All of them are honest.  Written by established authors like A.S. King and Sarah Ockler, and by the up-and-coming authors of the YA future, these letters are compulsive reading.

Created and hosted by authors Miranda Kenneally and E.Kristin Anderson, this site has tapped into a wealth of emotion and creativity and I, for one, try to read it daily.

Touching down at New York’s La Guardia airport, I felt like a newbie.  New to New York, certainly (the last time I was there as a teenager with the Girl Scouts – not really the same sort of experience).  But a newbie conference-goer as well.  This was my first conference with a book deal.  It changed the whole experience.

I had entirely new criteria for the breakout sessions in which editors patiently spoke at length and answered questions.  Sometimes repeatedly.  But it seemed so much more necessary for the true newbies, people just starting out in the business, to have a chance that I just sat back and listened.  And remembered.

So for me, the emphasis, the true body of the conference shifted.  To the people. The writers and illustrators and agents and editors I met and with whom I had real conversations.  In those few short days (and nights) they enriched my life enormously, so I have to take a little time to mention them.

Jackie and Katy in Times Square

Donna and Bret, of course, were there for me every step of the way.  From breakfast before my very first meeting with my own agent, Catherine Drayton, through fabulous keynotes and occasionally enlightening breakout sessions to the high-flying performance of American Idiot (complete with Billie Joe Armstrong and Mike Dirnt) on Broadway on Sunday night.

I’d met my roommate, Jackie Garlick, several times before, but hadn’t gotten to know her well until this weekend.  Boy, had I wasted my time!  Luckily, I feel now that I’ve known her for years (I think the late nights girl-chatting helped) and wish she didn’t live so far away.  I also wish I could attend the conference she’s planning in Niagara May 13-15 (at which our very own V. is going to be part of the faculty).  I wish I could be a conference junkie. 

I met three sister Apocalypsies, as well.  For those of you who don’t know, the Apocalypsies are a group of authors for young people whose books are debuting in 2012 (the year the Mayan calendar ends – thus the apocalypse).  I sat through most of the keynotes with AC Gaughen (author of SCARLET, a retelling of Robin Hood), and she didn’t seem embarrassed when I cried during Sara Zarr’s speech.  That’s a true friend.  Brodi Ashton (author of EVERNEATH, a modern Persephone tale) gave up eating dinner to come out for drinks with the “gang” late Saturday night.  And KM Walton (author of EVERYTHING’S NOT LOST, a contemporary YA about bullying and redemption) introduced me to writer friends and hugged me warmly when she left.  We never managed to have our own get together, but I’m so pleased I got to put real faces to names.

Tracy Clark, as always, offered a cheerful smile and encouragement.  I loved meeting Stasia Ward Kehoe and am even more excited to read AUDITION in October.  I met Christina Lee (blogger at Write-Brained), hugged Ellen Hopkins, had a wonderful conversation with picture book writer Aimee Reid.  More names, more faces, some I recognized, some were completely new to me.  The weekend was a whirlwind.  But one worth braving.

Sara Zarr seemed to be speaking directly to me when she said to find the people who will support you.  That you will know when you find the ones.  I know I’ve found some.  I’m lucky to know the Muses.  But I think my circle is expanding.  In layers, like an onion.  And for that I’m grateful.

But here I am.  Alone again.  And it’s good.

Because as Linda Sue Park said on the last day, in the last keynote, it’s all about the work.  I love conferences.  I’m so grateful to all the people who gave their time and friendship so willingly and graciously.  And thanks to them, their support and encouragement, I’m ready to get back to work.

Bret Ballou attended the same Big Sur conference that brought the Muses together for the first time. Since then, he has become a friend and writing partner in so many ways to us all. Bret is currently a participant in the Nevada SCBWI Mentor Program and will soon be querying agents with his new WIP. Here he is with Muses Katy and
Donna at the SCBWI New York Conference---->


Ahem. [tap tap tap]. Is this thing on? Can you hear me?
Ok. Good. Thanks.
I’ll get started then.

My name is Bret. And I’m a Conference Junkie.

Whew. That felt good to get out. Now, onto to my uber-special-YA-Muses-guest-blog post.

As most of the readership knows, SCBWI Winter Conference occurred this last weekend in New York. Of course, I wasn’t going to miss it. I signed up on the day the registration went online, madly clicking to get into the intensives, quickly deciding which breakout sessions to attend, and tapping in my credit card number from memory.

I couldn’t wait.

Now, I’m sitting on a plane on my way back home. I can barely keep my eyes open. My mind and soul are all the colors-of-a-bruise rainbow. I spent almost a whole paycheck, braved one of the biggest blizzards in NYC this winter, rode an emotional roller coaster, and slept the number of hours in four days that I shoot for on a normal Saturday night.

What fun, right?

So why am I a Conference Junkie? What’s so great about these things?

As a Junkie, I generate so many reasons to go: An idol is speaking, a friend is guilting me, and/or the is venue right in my backyard. However, at first, the strongest pull for me as a “pre-published” writer (don’t you love that term), was simple: The shot.

Conferences are where things happen. Chance meetings with editors on elevators that lead to bestsellers. Drinks with famous authors where they drop your name to a couch full of agents. Critiques where agents DEMAND to see your full manuscript as fast as you can get to a computer. Even as pooped as I am, I just got chills.

I confess, it hasn’t happened for me yet. (I’ll pause for the collective sob – done? Great. Moving on). In fact, the chance of being that super-star are super-slim. At the international conferences a handful, among thousands, get chosen. At a local conference, they probably are better with fewer attendees, but there are fewer of the big-wigs there, so it’s a trade-off.

Yet, I still subject myself to so much pain/exhaustion with so little hope. And I won’t lie, until I achieve that next level, I probably still wonder if the next time is the time. But it’s not really why I go anymore. I go because every conference has been a milestone in my writing life. I come out a different writer than I went in.

These conferences have defined my career in so many, unexpected ways. And since the Muses will no doubt expect a bulleted list from me, here’s a sampling of what I mean:

• One horrible critique sent me into all-night rewrite frenzy. The revision blew the critiquer’s mind (or so, I believe). I consider this as the defining moment where I stopped being a hobbyist and started being a writer.

• A presenter flashed a tool J.K. Rowling used to help shape one of her books. The image appeared for less than a minute, but it rocked my world, and now is a my own very powerful/very geeky tool.

• At few of these conferences, some very smart people gave me some solid encouragement. I keep these compliments close to my heart so they generate that critical, but elusive, “butt-in-chair” glue.

• I’ve used conferences as landmarks to finish a draft or force myself to polish something for a critique.

• And most importantly: Through a series of “coincidences,” I’ve connected with the most wonderful people (yes, including the Muses). Now, I consider them my most trusted of trusted in writing and life. (I totally think of us a Crash of Hippopota-Muses…see, we even have inside jokes).

There are so many more “random” run-ins, tidbits of knowledge, and inspirational networking that have come from my conference experience that I could go on for another 600 or 6000 words. But the flight attendant is on the speaker, demanding I power off my laptop.

So before she slams it closed for me, I’m a Conference Junkie because they’ve shaped me to become who I am in my writing life. They are the chapter breaks in my story. I never know what’s going to happen, but it’s always something. And a high like that is worth every penny and travel-related headache.

I’ll sleep tonight. I’ll get another paycheck. I’ll recover from the mental bruises with the help of my friends. And I’ll be first in line for the next conference (shout out to ASILOMAR! What! What!)

I "met" Stasia Ward Kehoe through our agent, Catherine Drayton.  But as happens often in this technology-driven world, our only contact was via e-mail and Twitter.  So it was truly a delight to meet her in person in New York this weekend and she generously agreed to share with us her experiences of the conference.  --  Katy

FINDING THE MAGIC SPACES at SCBWI NY 2011

SCBWI New York feels enormous.  The conference hotel adjoins the massive Grand Central Station which, in turn, sits in the heart of giant, pulsing New York City. You are surrounded by over 1,000 conference goers, including illustrious agents, editors, publishers and NYT-best-selling authors.  A grilled cheese sandwich costs a staggering twelve bucks.   Perhaps you traveled a great distance to get here.  Certainly your hopes and dreams for these 48 hours are, well, enormous.  Whether you are unpublished,  newly agented, or have even sold a book, it can be hard, amidst all this enormity, not to feel a bit puny (and poor). 

Still, with notebook in hand and wearing a good pair of heels, you consult your schedule and begin.  You sit through keynotes and attend breakout sessions (all wonderfully summarized at the SCBWI Team Blog) hoping to discover that opportunity, that insight that will nudge your writing career a little further down the path.  The day wears on and all you've heard is the scratch of your pen noting the "likes" and "dislikes" of a given editor or a somber publisher musing on the fate of the hardcover book.  You begin to despair.  Then...it happens.

You're not in the cavernous lecture hall, nor even one of impressive break-out sessions.  It happens around 7 PM in the hotel lobby.  You find the courage to talk to a famous author who has inspired you and receive encouragement and a warm smile in return.  It happens again when you sit, somewhat timidly, at a table with nine other writers you've never met before and  meet someone who writes in your genre or loves the same books or wants to trade guest blog posts.

Just like the best writing, the magic of the NY SCBWI conference happens in the spaces in between; in the serendipitous discoveries and moments of summoning the courage to reveal yourself to others.  You must attend the sessions, just like you must write (butt-in-seat) even when you're feeling uncertain or world-weary.  You need to learn about the people and the industry just like you need to hone your writing craft.  But, the conference is also a catalyst, bringing together like-minded, passionate, creative people who know how to find magic not in the enormity of the venue or the masses of people, but in the nooks and corners, the smaller moments--in the perfectly chosen word.

My magic moments from SCBWI NY 2011:

1. Meeting the amazing Ellen Hopkins (see us in the picture?)

2. Getting an autograph from the conference's most inspiring speaker, Sara Zarr.

3. Meeting my agent-buddy, the awesome YA muse Katy Longshore, in person!

4. Drinks and meals and coffees with old friends and folks I've only cyber-known until now.

5. Coming home with a pile of cards, twitter names, and other contact information from fellow writers with whom I look forward to keeping in touch!

Stasia Ward Kehoe blogs at www.swardkehoe.blogspot.com.  Her debut novel, AUDITION, will be published by Viking this October.

I'm at LaGuardia waiting for a flight back to Colorado and reflecting on an amazing weekend at SCBWI. I'm totally exhausted, but renewed at the same time. I love New York -- the energy, the food, the shopping, the people (did I mention the food?). Here's a snippet of just one day in NY. Yesterday, I had Dim Sum in Chinatown, watched ice skaters in Bryant Park, had an amazing dinner in this great little Greek place, saw Billie Joe Armstrong in American Idiot on Broadway and laughed a lot with fellow writers and friends. Oh yeah, and I went to a conference, too. All the excitement has left me overly stimulated and completely brain dead. Even so, here are some major themes coming to mind as I reflect back on my time in NY.

What I learned from the 2011 SCBWI Winter Conference in NY


There are stupid questions. Don't use valuable Q&A time with editors and agents to ask questions that can be easily answered by doing a little research online. Bad questions= What is your email address? How many words are in a middle grade (YA, picture book)? Do you take hard copy submissions? Do you take email submissions? Do you need an agent? Can you repeat your email address?

Be kind. There was a woman at my critique group who had left her toddler alone for the first time to come to the conference and read aloud her picture book manuscript. She was nervous, teary eyed, and terrified at being critiqued for the first time by an agent and eight other writers. It didn't matter how good the story was, she needed some plain, old fashioned kindness. There was a time I needed that kindness and I hope I never forget what that felt like.

Schmooze. I hate mingling. My basic introverted personality screams out in horror at the idea BUT if there if ever a time to meet and greet, it's at these kind of conferences. Writing is an incredibly solitary endeavor most of the time, but weekends like this remind me that connections are so important. I'm always a bit amazed at how one connection, leads to another, leads to another. Yes, you need the writing to back it up, but face to face time is critical, too.

Laugh. This is a tough business and it isn't getting easier. The good news? Children's writers are funny. Going to a conference gives me the opportunity to find new friends, and connect with old ones, that really get my sense of humor. I laughed a LOT and that is always a good thing.

Go Home and Get to Work. My big goal for this conference was to go home motivated to complete my newest manuscript by the end of February. Thanks to some encouraging feedback, I'm flying back to the day job and my crazy life with major incentives to carve out the time somehow to GET THIS THING DONE!