The light's different here. I thought it'd be like the light in California, but it's different altogether. It's hard, unforgiving - the kind of light that angrily blasts off your husband's watch, directly into your eyes, as you drive your car in the late afternoon. Aggressive light. The kind of light that keeps you honest. No shade to hide in here.
South of Congress (SoCo) is full of vibrant, independent-minded shops, lampposts plastered with a lasagna of music posters, and food, food, glorious food. I'm not sure I was cool enough to walk down the street, but one green-strawed sip from my Tropic Thunder (lime, grapefruit, orange and ginger) and I didn't care.
I'm here for the Agents and Editors Conference. Just checked in. Have my spiffy badge with its pale blue "Finalist" ribbon, hanging from a decidedly un-hipsterlike lanyard, but I don't care. I'm wearing it with pride. Folks from home have been so supportive with surprise flowers and notes and texts. I'm a lucky, lucky girl.
I can't wait until tomorrow to listen to all these smart folks talk on topics like "Dynamic Duos: The Author-Agent Relationship" and "Finding Your Creative Tribe". I'm going to soak in every last word, take copious notes, and pray I don't pass out during my consultation with an agent.
Stay tuned - Hope to give you the low-down on all the info that is gleaned from the non-stop panels/workshops/presentations tomorrow.