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On the Lack of Necessary Time, and Admitting Defeat
Yesterday, Pat, one of my writing class classmates, e-mailed me about the San Diego Writer's Conference (~5 weeks from now) and asks if I'm going, together with a "oh, and submissions for advance readings are due in by this Saturday" (I paraphrase).
Which, together with the cost, pretty much settles it that I am NOT going. If I'd had two weeks, maybe. Five days? Including mailing time? On top of the $425 registration + hotel costs + $50/advanced reader? In reviewing the conference website this morning, I've actually had a small panic attack. I can't do this. I've been too stressed over health and holiday crap, don't have enough prep time, and my first 15-20 pages aren't ready enough.
(I am, in fact, beginning to accept that the entire goddamn book may never be ready enough. Let alone the sequel, which is fighting me hard. I can write pretty good fanfiction. Original stuff, apparently not so much. Maybe a fanfic writer is all I really am.)
Which, together with the cost, pretty much settles it that I am NOT going. If I'd had two weeks, maybe. Five days? Including mailing time? On top of the $425 registration + hotel costs + $50/advanced reader? In reviewing the conference website this morning, I've actually had a small panic attack. I can't do this. I've been too stressed over health and holiday crap, don't have enough prep time, and my first 15-20 pages aren't ready enough.
(I am, in fact, beginning to accept that the entire goddamn book may never be ready enough. Let alone the sequel, which is fighting me hard. I can write pretty good fanfiction. Original stuff, apparently not so much. Maybe a fanfic writer is all I really am.)