Day One | Broadleaf 10th Anniversary Writers Conference

Querying a novel in isolation wreaks havoc on the brain. I'm in a continual state of emotion-management. 

When a full request arrives in my inbox: I restrain my optimism. 

When the rejections arrive in my inbox: I force indifference. 

The days, weeks, and months tick by and these manipulated emotions rebel against my better judgement. 

About six weeks ago I registered for the Broadleaf Writers Conference, in need of some tangible and professional feedback on my work. Last minute, I almost canceled. I came up with reasons--good reasons--why staying home made sense. 

Despite my demoralized state, I drove north to Decatur, Georgia.


DAY ONE

I arrived at a historic brick building with pillars buttressing the grand entryway. This grand multi-storied building looked nothing like our Florida libraries. I slowed down, looking at my instructions which indicated we were to park in the underground parking garage--something else we don't have living at sea level.  

I was early, because I'm always early. You wouldn't know it, because I don't enter until a socially-acceptable time (hello fellow introverts). I wandered downtown in search of coffee and found B-Side. When I entered, a server was handing an ice water to an unhoused person. It warmed my heart to see this small kindness.

I was in a new city and attending a new conference completely solo. So, I searched the faces of the nearby customers wondering if any were fellow writers. My nerves felt raw with anticipation and trepidation. 

Returning to the underground garage, I swiped some oil on my dry lips and coaxed my emotions into feigning confidence. 

At the registration desk I announced my name. "Debra Eby...wait, um..." I couldn't remember which name I'd registered under. Instead of questioning my sanity, the staff member laughed, joking about never knowing who we are with pen names. I relaxed. This was a place where I was understood. 

My next hurdle was selecting my genre identification sticker. I knew the genre of my current novel--after over a hundred queries, how couldn't I? I searched for "Upmarket" or "Book Club", but that was too specific. "Historical Fiction" is something I'd like to explore, but my current novel isn't that. I forced myself to commit to the red general "fiction" sticker and placed it next to the pen name listed on my name tag: Debi Canterbury. This is my maiden name--a name I felt troubled parting with, so I've reclaimed it through my writing endeavors (it also keeps my photography business separate). 

The opening was led by the only familiar face, Zachary Steele. He was the administrator of the Florida Writers Workshop back in April and had been the one to introduce me to his organization, Broadleaf. He was warm, authentic, and encouraging to our roomful of literary hopefuls. 


Penning the American South

I chose this session since Florida is kin to the south. Parts of Florida are very southern, while others...not so much. The joke is that Florida is the only place you go north to get to the south. 

I am in love with Southern Fiction, especially Southern Gothic. Learning from this panel of writers was like trying to drink from a waterfall. I sat in awe as they shared their writing journeys with an eloquence stemming from their wordsmith talents. 

Jeffrey Dale Lofton spoke of storytelling being "buried in the marrow of southerners". He spoke of the grotesque and Southern Gothic themes--reminding me of Flannery O'Connor. He immersed us in Georgia red clay, inspiring us to make place a character.

Kimberly Brock discussed the coastal and Appalachia south as well as the myths we tell ourselves. Kimberly challenged us to, "Write what you can imagine, but with respect." Kimberly also spoke about the land owning us, and not the other way around.

Piper Huguley spoke of inclusion of the Black experience and what's possible with finding common ground in friendships. She also spoke of the resilience of Black southern womanhood. Piper discussed Washington D.C. as a southern city.

Patti Callahan Henry painted what it looked like to fall in love with the southern experience as an outsider and of libraries being her sanctuary and books her solace. She challenged us to always tell truth--even in fiction. Patti tells us that, "Landscape is memory and memory is landscape."


Home Is Where The Horror Is

While Horror is unlikely to be a genre I ever write, I do love suspense. This panel demonstrated how to write everyday places in a frightening way. 

Panelists: Clay McLeod Chapman | Shaun Hamill | Paul Jenkins

There and Back Again

This session discussed how multiple timelines and POVs link characters, settings, and plot themes. The novel I'm querying has dual timeline and three POVs, so I'm always eager to learn how to improve the labyrinth of these elements. 

  • Exploring character(s) motive:
    • What do they want?
    • Why can't they get it?
    • What are they willing to do to get it?
  • Characters require agency.
  • We are made of memory of the past and dreams of the future (desire).
  • Novels are puzzles - trying to fit the pieces together:
    • Tools like Scrivener and pen to paper to help organize the pieces.
    • Creating timelines: "It's like dating a couple different guys at the same time."
  • Characters are like a river:
    • Main Channel: Main Character
    • Side Channels: Side Characters, Journals, other POVs
  • Intuition - so many of these authors have honed their craft to the level of intuitive flow.
  • Each novel you write teaches you.
  • Stay curious--we must stay living.

Lunch

Broadleaf includes lunch with the conference and this is something I've learned to appreciate as the introvert in me would prefer leaving everyone to find the nearest burrito bowl. Instead, I'm forced to meet new people and build writerly connections. By this time in the day I'd gotten to know a few writers and this Florida girl enjoyed warming up in the courtyard after freezing inside the meeting room.

10-Page Critique with Monica Cox

The conference offered an opportunity to meet with book coach, Monica Cox, for a 10-page critique of your work in progress. It's always nerve-wracking when your work is shared with someone new, especially if that someone is also a writer, editor, and book coach. 

I took the elevator to the fourth floor of the library, entering into a waiting area with other writers awaiting their meetings with industry professionals. Most of these writers were waiting their turn to pitch to literary agents. I'd arrived early, so I sat clutching my manuscript notebook filled with my vision board, sample query letter, and overview of my novel. 

I was shown into the end of a narrow room lined with windows. Behind the desk sat a woman about my age, blonde, and with a warm smile. She immediately made me feel at ease, melting the tension.

We went over my first pages and I appreciated that she "got" my art and the work I was trying to put out into the world. It was like hanging out with an old friend, we connected immediately and spent time discussing the themes and my literary goals. We also have mutual writing friends, so that was fun too. She was wonderful and everything I was needing in my isolated world of writing. 

Monica also challenged me to introduce myself to a literary agent who I really loved. She was my first "full request" agent when I queried my first novel. She'd already passed on my second query attempt, so I didn't want to be intrusive. Monica assured me that this agent would be happy to meet me.

Fun fact: conference attendees kept approaching me throughout the conference asking if I was Monica.


So, I left Monica feeling very ready for the final session of the day...

First-Page Critique

The attendees were given the opportunity to submit their first pages (anonymously) for a panel of literary agents to offer feedback. If this sounds terrifying, I assure you...it is. 

Before we began, I found the literary agent (the one who I'd discussed with Monica). With my heart pounding. I approached her, thanking her for being the first literary agent to ever request my full manuscript. She was everything I'd hoped her to be: kind, warm, professional, and passionate. After discussing a client of hers (who is also an incredible literary agent, but whole different story), she requested that I re-query her. 

I went into this first-page critique session flying high--emotions untethered. 

There were three literary agents and one small publisher sitting at the table discussing the pages. Pages and pages were read and assessed. Then, I heard the title of my manuscript. My stomach lurched. 

After the moderator read my first page, the entire table was confused. I mean, really confused. 

My heart sank. 

I wanted to explain that if they'd just read page two it would all make sense, or if they read the premise. In typical writing-life fashion, I'd gone from ecstatic joy to disillusionment. 

The Drive to LaGrange

My sister lives about an hour from the conference location. So, I headed west on I-85, toward her historic craftsman home. The entire drive I oscillated between frustration and embarrassment. In between the rise and fall of my heated emotions a strand of truth reasoned with me. 

Hadn't I wanted feedback? 

Even though I had 12 full and 2 partial requests for my manuscript--couldn't it be better? 

Of course it could. 

After allowing myself time to wallow and spiral, I asked my sister, fifteen-year-old daughter, and seventeen-year-old niece to help me. At the kitchen island we huddled around my laptop where they tried making sense of the literary agents' confusion. We all agreed that I should use my time with Monica Cox the next day to sort through the problems and use this feedback to improve my work.


Day Two | Broadleaf 10th Anniversary Writer's Conference

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