I heard a rumor that the RT BookLover’s convention is actually an annual event (which would give a person approximately a year in between each one to prepare, right?) But once again, I seem to have lost track of time and in the mad scramble to prepare for Chicago, this year, I’m just forfeiting my pride and admitting that from my perspective, February was yesterday, it might still be 2011 and I cannot for the life of me find my tea cup again.
Oh, yes. I’m on top of things!
In two weeks, I’m Chicago bound for the event that anchors my year. I get to meet readers and booksellers and hang out with friends and ATTEMPT to professionally network (translate that into me usually blowing those magic moments by one of the following scenarios: being introduced to someone with cake icing on my nose, dropping a box of promo on publishing VP’s shoes accidentally and the classic dance-floor tragedy known by many as “The Nipple Dance Incident”.) I’m a networking genius. Sigh.
Every year, I give myself a pep talk before this industry convention. It starts with a general “you can do it” themed opening, shifts over to the “we’ll wear our nicest clothes and dress up and make a good impression”, and wraps up with a “whatever you do, DON’T embarrass yourself!” It’s a long speech. It’s an important ritual. So far, it hasn’t ever worked. On my best behavior, sober as a nun, if an elevator is going to get stuck with a cast of characters out of my worst nightmares (cover models and that critic that HATES me) and there’s a chance for me to be wearing a unicorn suit–I’m doomed. It will happen.
It’s fun to watch Lucille Ball but it’s not always fun to Be Lucy. Good thing I have a sense of humor.
And a new fondness for chocolate martinis.
So, THIS RT, no pep talk, no speech, no post it notes on the mirror of the bathroom begging the Fates to let me look like a grown up… This year, I’m just going to take a deep breath and roll. I’m going to just be myself. Even if that’s the lady with toilet paper trailing off of one shoe or glow sticks in her purse to help her find her keys. I’m going to miss the friends that aren’t there, cry for Leslie and Judi, laugh with friends new and old, try to introduce myself to some booksellers and see if the Australians will let me into their country next year… (fingers crossed!)
Life is too short. This year is the year I just let go.
Wish me luck!!!!!!