Journal

  I repeated the same motions as I had the morning before. I pulled into the underground parking garage, walked the cobblestone downtown, and popped into  B-Side . When I entered, iced water was handed over to the same woman carrying a threadbare blanket. The same kindness warmed my heart. The first day of the conference had been an emotional roller coaster for me, but I knew it was because of my own insecurities. I was determined to make the most of this opportunity and grow before returning to my isolated writing bubble.  As I entered the library the vibe felt electric. It was the second day and the ice was broken and walls were down, everyone mingled and shared with each other openly.  Broadleaf is the first writer's conference where I really connected with the speakers, agents, and other mentors. I loathe "bothering" anyone, so when these professionals made the effort to be approachable during breaks it emboldened me to introduce myself and engage.  Fi...