99 Percent Perspiration

This weekend, I went to Little Rock, Arkansas, to attend the annual Arkansas Writers’ Conference (AWC). I knew this was my kind of conference as soon as I saw the swag bags.

I was also fortunate to win some placements in the annual Arkansas Writing Contest.

Every year, I state that I will no longer enter mail-in-only contests because I prefer digital entries. Then, every year I see the creative categories that the Arkansas Writers’ Contest has (as do the White County Creative Writers’ Contests, also located in Arkansas), and I change my mind.

I was just as happy when two of my friends from Oklahoma had their names called for wins, too. Hurrah for fellow Oklahoma authors! I was happy when the Arkansas people I knew won. I was happy when people I’d never met won. I was happy at the AWC.

The keynote speaker was best-selling author Patricia Bradley. See her books here: https://ptbradley.com/books/. When I signed up for her newsletter, I was given her book Revenge as a free digital download. At the AWC, I was lucky to get Justice Delivered. When she gave me the book, Patricia didn’t even know that I had worked in the criminal justice system for years.

Lunch was provided with the conference. We were told to put our names on the back of the meal ticket, then throw them in a basket for gift drawings. When I threw mine in, I said to the lady in front of me, “I feel lucky, so I’m going to win something.” She looked at me like I was kooky. Not quirky, but kooky. She may have laughed nervously.

Maybe I am kooky and quirky, but I was lucky, too. My name was the first one drawn for a prize. I wondered what the lady’s face looked like when she heard my name.

The lady might have looked like this, except she was much prettier and didn’t have green hair.

There were two full tables of prizes, and I was told to select whatever I wanted. I chose A Murder at Mobile Bay by J.F. Kearney.

There were so many prizes available that eventually, the conference planners stopped calling out names and directed everyone who had not yet received a prize to get one.

I was also honored to have an afternoon speaker slot, but there was a problem. There’s such a thing as a fresh rose, but there is also such a thing as a dead rose. I came close to being a dead rose, hyperbolically.

In the morning, the conference room was incredibly cold. I love the cold. I only have a one-degree comfort zone, and that zone tends toward frigid. Make that a one-fourth-degree comfort zone. I keep my air conditioner at home set to deep freeze.

Most people didn’t like the cold conference room (which was understandable), so there were numerous requests that the room be warmed up. By this, I mean that the air conditioner needed to be cranked up, as in moving the thermostat to a higher setting. Mardi (my best friend, Pittsburgh version) would say that if you crank up the air conditioner, you are making the temperature colder as in moving the thermostat down. Regional differences?

After this request for a less-cold room was honored, people seemed more comfortable. But maybe I’m not a person (or I’m just some kind of super-weirdo human unable to tolerate any temperature above 67 degrees). By the time I gave my speech, I was incredibly hot. Then, I started sweating a little bit.

Actually, I was sweating like Albert Brooks in Broadcast News.

I wasn’t nervous, though. The sweat came courtesy of the fact that I was burning up, and the ugliness of the perspiration could not be hidden. Still, several people gave me good feedback after my solitary speech. This may have been pity-based feedback, but I’ll take it just the same, thank you very much.

The mystery panel followed my speech with a short break in between. I went to the restroom to put some cold paper towels on my face. Even though I knew I had been on fire (in a bad way), I was surprised to see that my hair was in wet squiggles and part of the front of my dress was soaked. Ewww! I’m glad I didn’t know how bad it was while I was speaking or that would have added the heat of embarrassment to my face. After towel-drying my hair and dress, I went to take my place on the panel.

Thankfully, the panel was so much fun due to the moderator Ellen’s great questions to us that I forgot about the shame of previously being walking beads of sweat. In addition, I loved the insightful interaction of the audience with their comments and questions.

TRIGGER WARNING: If you look too closely, you will see my sweat-soaked hair and dress, plus my crazed-looking eyes. The heat must have thrown me into a state of delirium. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

One of my favorite parts of the conference was making new friends. I met Carol Dabney who was selling children’s books and her beautiful art. She also had a ukelele sitting on her table. What’s better than becoming friends with someone who is involved in creating music, art, and books?

This was Carol’s table at AWC. She took photos at the conference, then shared them with everyone via Facebook. We were all glad she did. She took both of the above photos (with name tags on the first photo added by me).

My new friend’s website is www.caroldabney.com. To hear her music, search on YouTube for her name.

The conference was such an outstanding experience that I want to make the journey there every year whenever possible. If I understood the emcee correctly, next year will be the 80th anniversary of the AWC. I bet there will be some phenomenal surprises in store by the AWC planners! You can keep up with AWC news here: https://www.arkansaswritersconference.com/

Thanks for the photos, Carol!