Willamette Writers Conference

This last weekend I attended the 38th Annual Willamette (rhymes with damn it) Writers Conference held at the Sheraton near Portland International Airport (Is Idaho another country?). I went to the 37th conference last year.

The WWC (Willamette Writers Conference not the World Wrestling Commission) runs as if it were a Swiss watch. I have coordinated events and it takes a lot of sweat to make it all integrate smoothly. They do a bang-up job: hot breakfast and lunch (included), Starbucks coffee and assorted teas available throughout the day, eight seminars to choose from (two in the morning and two in the afternoon) covering fiction, film, non-fiction, and children’s fiction; and pitch sessions.

The faculty is first cabin. My favorites this year were Laura Rennert of Andrea Brown Literary Agency, Lee Lofland, and Eric Witchey. Both Lofland and Witchey have articles in this month’s issue of The Writer. If they return next year, I’m sitting in their sessions again (even if they’re repeats).

I liked this year’s conference. Last year’s affair turned out to be a bit of a bust for me. I hadn’t signed up for any of the pitch sessions—one on one pitches cost $30 for ten minutes and group pitches are $15 per session. I figured (wrongly) that the admission fee of $500+ ought to get me some face time (lobby, bar, after seminars, etc.). Plus, last year, a number of Hollywood types who were there to teach the scriptwriting sessions spent a lot of time on the sidewalks cursing into their cellphones. If was as if I’d gone to a Tourrette’s Syndrome convention.

This year I forwent Friday’s banquet and put the cash savings into three pitches—two individual and one group. I took the first five pages of my manuscript to the conference for the pitches. I enclosed the pages in a folder with the title of the story on the front and my card and the pages inside. The result of the pitches is that I now have places to send the first 100 or so pages of my manuscript to be considered by these agents. And, now when I send a query letter I can say that while at the conference (remember me?) both Tony Outhwaite of JCA Literary Agency and April Eberhardt of Andrea Brown ASKED to see my stuff. This suits me much better than a cold query that would otherwise get tossed into the old slush pile with the other 100 queries received that day. It means I go toward the front of the line.

Eric Witchey taught the ABCs (Agenda, Backstory, Conflict, Setting—see September 2007’s issue of The Writer), all common sense stuff, well presented. He recommended James M Frey’s How to Write a Damn Good Novel: A Step-By-Step No Nonsense Guide to Dramatic Storytelling. I’ve already ordered it from Powell’s Books.

He suggested we begin the writing day with a speed writing exercise. The scene will start with either 1) character vs character, 2) character vs self, or 3) character vs setting. Each scene will contain the ABCs. The character will have an agenda, backstory, and the conflict comes from the opposition of the two (or more) participants in the scene.

Quick! Pick two characters–how about “a blind taxi driver and Yoko Ono?”

Witchey says it should be a new scene each time (not the same people in the same scene) since it’s meant to be an exercise. In other words, do not think too much. Turn off the internal editor. Type blindfolded (if you can) so that you’re concentrating only on the scene. Try to write a full scene.

By beginning our day using our imaginations to get things flowing, it is supposed to get our regular story moving once we turn to it. The point of this is to discover gems within the subconscious.

His claim is that when you do get into your story’s scene you’ll be more productive. It sounds simple. He also says not to expect to get it right for the first two-three weeks. Think musical scales. Practice makes (almost) perfect.

Do this exercise six days a week (rest on the seventh).

I’m off to do my speed writing exercise. I wonder what Harry’s going to do next?