Guest Post: Why Writing Conferences Work For Me

As I unpack and repack in preparation for Book Passage, a travel writing conference in California, I’m delighted to have a guest post from Eva Holland on why such events are worth the money and the bother.

In 2007, I bet it all on Book Passage.

I was an aspiring travel writer fresh off a British graduate degree and a European backpacking tour, with a student loan and credit card debt for souvenirs. During my time in England I’d gotten my first clip – a story in my hometown paper, the Ottawa Citizen, about a “Trainspotting” themed walking tour of Edinburgh – and now that I was back home in Canada I wanted to take a serious shot at writing full time.

I spent the winter reading and writing and pitching. I got the occasional rejection note from an editor as months passed and I upgraded my day job from snow-shoveler to deli counter wench to waitress to office worker. Mostly, I got no reply at all.

I’d read about the Book Passage Travel Writing and Photography Conference in Don George’s Lonely Planet Travel Writing (How to), a guide that had appeared under the Christmas tree when I first started talking openly about chasing the dream. The conference was spendy – around $600 – and it was held in San Francisco, a very long way from Ottawa. But it seemed like it could provide the jump start my writing career dream efforts needed. I cashed in my frequent flier miles, hoarded for the past six years, and blew all my meager savings on conference tuition and a Marin County hotel room. In August, I was off to Corte Madera.

If you know me, you know the story from here. By September I was blogging for World Hum and Vagablogging – I’d met both Jim Benning and Rolf Potts at Book Passage – and by April 2008 I’d given notice at my day job. My first features had appeared on World Hum, I was an editor at Matador, I had a semi-regular gig with the local paper, and I was landing my first magazine assignments. I was officially a full time, self-employed travel writer.

I don’t want to sound like a late-night weight loss infomercial. (“If I can do it, you can do it too!”) But I’ve become a bit of a writing conference addict/evangelist.

I’ve been back to Book Passage twice, in 2008 and 2010, both times as a lurker and schmoozer at the public evening events. This summer I made it to TBEX for the first time, and – one of the highlights of my year – I also attended the inaugural Oxford American Summit for Ambitious Writers. I won’t make it to Book Passage this weekend, unfortunately, but I’ll be following along on the Twitter, hopefully soaking up some virtual benefits.

Here – because one of the things I learned at that first Book Passage conference is that people like lists – are four reasons why writing conferences work for me.

1)  I make invaluable contacts at writing conferences.

“It’s who you know” sounds cynical, but in a world with zillions of writers and terabytes of online submissions it’s only natural that an editor’s eye will be caught by a familiar name in the inbox. It’s not about nepotism or playing favorites or anything at all sinister – it’s just a reality of the sheer volume at play.

And meeting an editor can sometimes mean even more than gaining a slight edge in the slush pile: This summer I met an editor at a conference and she specifically invited me to pitch her on a topic we’d chatted about, offering me her personal email address. I landed the story, and if all goes well (I never count my freelance chickens until they’re actually in the bank) the pay from it will cover my hefty conference fee. That, in the coldest mercenary terms, is return on investment.

2) I learn things at writing conferences.

This one should be pretty self-explanatory. There’s a whole discussion to be had on the “Can writing be taught?” question, but surely pitch writing can be taught, as can other aspects of the freelance life – from mastering blogging platforms to filing tax forms.

And whether or not non-writers can become writers, writers can improve their writing. I absorb everything I can at conference panels, seminars, workshops, casual discussions – anything that helps me gain a fresh perspective on my own writing helps me change it for the better.

3) Writing conferences help people my solitary, online world with colleagues and friends.

Freelance writing can be a lonely pursuit. My “real life” friends don’t really understand my job, and it’s nice to have people with whom I can vent, joke, gossip, compare notes. Of course I can – and have – met peers and friends on Twitter and elsewhere – but there’s still something essential about the face-to-face sit-down over beers, coffee or a meal.

4) I work harder (and better) after writing conferences.

I don’t mean to get all mystical, but I honestly believe I come home from writing conferences imbued with some intangible energy: I get off the plane or out of the car, and I sit down and crank out pitches, emails, words by the hundreds. I come home full of determination to read more, research harder, pitch smarter and write better. Sometimes my newfound motivation stays with me for a few days, sometimes a few weeks, but either way it’s invaluable, invigorating. That post-conference high is what I’m always chasing as a freelance writer: the feeling that I’m doing exactly what I want to do with my life, and for the moment – for that one hour, maybe, or that day or that week – I’m doing it really well.

Eva Holland is the senior editor of World Hum, the site that’s probably the finest place for travel narrative on the web. (That’s my description, not hers.) I’ll be at Book Passage co-teaching a session on travel writing for the web with Jim Benning, one of World Hum’s founders.

Photo, by Eva Holland, used with her permission.