I attended the Houston Writers Guild Conference this
weekend, my third since I started my quest to get published, and the most
successful in my opinion. I loved the overall positive atmosphere; people
pulsing with energy, their hopes and dreams glowing over their heads like
beacons. I was no exception, joining the crowd in the grueling exercise of
toning down the excitement with reality checks.
I had the privilege to meet fellow writers who amazed me
with their courage. And it does take courage to pour out your most pressing
ambition, your ultimate aspiration, to a bunch of strangers. Just like a job
interview, pitching to literary agents to get them interested in your book is
nerve wrecking and intense, weather it’s your first, third or the sixtieth
time. The process seasons you over the cooking fire, until you are done and
ready to be tasted, devoured, or more often than not, chewed and spit out.
Counteracting the disappointments and the heartaches was the
support of other writers who went down the same roads, hitting the same bumps.
I met people who were wonderfully encouraging, sincere in their attitudes and good
wishes. A warm smile, firm handshake, pat on the back, or simple go for it wink, go along way for someone
who needs a little push.
How beautiful some people are! How kind and caring they can
be to strangers, making them feel special, giving them hope, bringing the best
out of them, making them shine from within.
And I met another kind of people, the rude people. The ones
who make others feel uncomfortable, unworthy of their company. Few as they
were, they leave the most awkward impact on your day if you let them. If you were
strong enough, you wouldn't let that affect you, flicking them off like a piece of
dirt that landed on your clothes. But if you were like me, not as strong as
you’d like to be, you'd spend your night wondering: Weren’t these rude people
exhausted at the end of the day?
It takes effort to be not
nice to someone. It requires energy to think of an insult. One must form an
opinion of the person standing in front of them, analyze and pinpoint their
weaknesses, evaluate their ability to respond and then come up with something
insulting. It’s a lot of work!
No one is perfect. No one can be nice all the time. I am not
naive to think that. There are no angels walking on this earth. I realize that.
There are unkind people in this world. I understand and accept that. I just
hope I am not one of them. I know I must have behaved in a stupid way toward
others in my lifetime, I am not a fool to assume I didn’t, I only hope they
were few, that they forgave my ignorance and self indulgence.
At the conference, I attended lectures by seasoned authors,
pitched to select agents, great in person and profession, and met many
wonderful people whom I hope will remain friends for a long time. I am happy. I
am hopeful. I am stronger.