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Utopia Anxiety

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How can Utopia (noun: any visionary system of political or social perfection. -Dictionary.com) ever be a cause of anxiety, you ask?

Well, I’m talking about Utopia Con, a writers conference happening THIS WEEK in Nashville, Tennessee.

Last year at this time, I was sitting at home, trying to figure out what this event was that every single author I had met in my short six months as a published author was attending. Everyone said it was life-changing.

UTOPia art 2016

So, in October of last year, when I started to see tickets selling out for this event, I purchased my ticket. Even though neither my husband nor I had a job and things looked super-bleak, I bought one because my inner voice told me to. And I am glad it did. My husband and I are both employed at the moment, things are slightly better, and my publishing is in a little bit of a funk.

I am going to Utopia, first, in search of new friendships. I need someone to message me occasionally and say “keep it up.” I could do the same for them. Fellow authors E.A. Comiskey & Patti Keno are great for that, but I am kinda high maintenance.

Second, I need to be re-inspired. I went from knowing nothing about independent publishing to educating myself on writing, editing, formatting, proofreading, swag, even the climate and crops of Alabama! But I have new books brewing, and they scream to have improved marketing and better sales. How can I do that? I hope I will find the answers.

So, I am worried, because I am taking this big huge trip by myself– From Michigan to Nashville. And I am poor, so I am camping, in a tent. But I love the tent. I don’t really love bugs or hot weather or rain, but hopefully they will not spoil the trip too much for me. Part of me is SO looking forward to having some alone time. My son is 5 1/2. I haven’t been alone, except to go to work, in 5 1/2 years it seems. But also, I will be ALONE. No one to lean on and help me.

WARNING: This may only be interesting to others attending the same conference.

So, I present to you, a list of my worries:

– The campground will lose my reservation
– Rain
– Heat
– Cold
– Skunks (the website warned that they frequent the campground!)
– Not having anyone to talk to
– Having too many people to talk to
– No one will give me a hug
– Strangers will hug me and it will feel awkward
– Not learning anything helpful
– Learning that I am not worthy to be publishing books
– My worn tire will blow out, causing me to careen into a semi trailer on the expressway and die
– There is so much road construction that I won’t arrive until I’m due to return home
– I will miss my family
– My family will miss me too much
– My family won’t miss me at all
-I will starve
– I won’t get to see any of the Nashville sights
– My front driver wheel will fall off because it has a lose control arm and needs the ball joint replaced
– My front passenger wheel will fall off because it also needs a new ball joint.
– There won’t be any Mobil gas stations down south (I want to use my Mobil credit card as much as possible on the trip. My first job was at a Mobile gas station. For a pretty thorough description of it, read Books 1 and 2 of the Riley Sisters series ;-D )

There are many more, but I have to go look at maps and try and figure out where to park to go to the Bluebird Cafe!!!

I will give you an update on my adventure in my blog and newsletter when I return. (IF I return…)

Haven’t signed up for my newsletter yet? Get to it:  http://eepurl.com/7YhHr

Follow the romantic entanglements of The Riley Sisters in my books:
Be Careful What You Wish ForAVAILABLE NOW!
When You Least Expect It THE CONTINUING ROMANCE!
The Wind Could Blow a BugWHERE IT ALL BEGAN!

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Shoulda been a writer.

As I am in the middle of job hunting, networking, perfecting my resume, a very dear former co-worker of mine complimented my writing skills on a Linkedin recommendation I wrote for another former collegue. She had no idea (well, maybe a little idea) that I have all these creative juices that can, at times, flow all over the place (In the words of Summer Roberts on The O.C. “Ew.).

I liked writing in school. Out of gym, math, and science, it was the least henious. My asbestos friend (I’ll explain it someday, promise) and I used to skip lunch in high school to go to the computer lab and work on personal stories. It seemed like a much more pleasant experience to escape into my creative dreamland than to negotiate the impending embaressment that is the high school lunch room.

I think I always thought I would be a writer someday. Of novels or poetry or TV scripts or newspaper articles. When I got my first grown-up job, I shelled out big bucks to buy a word processor (I know, lame. Even lamer, it was the year 2000!). I sat down one uneventful evening to begin my career as a writer. Then I realized it was work like everything else. That night is sort of when I let my writing dream die. But then…

THE BLOG WAS BORN!!!

The Internet created these things called blogs, where you didn’t have to have someone else “publish” your thoughts–you could just puke them out of yourself for your closest friends to read! Of course, the disadvantage is no marketing support and no paycheck for them. That is why I need everyone who reads this blog to send it to one other person, and so on. So that someday my words might support me afterall. Getting paid just to be me wouldn’t really be work at all.

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