Continuing Education

      There are days when the rejection notices pile up faster than the written pages...today was one of those days. When I first started my so-called second career as a writer, I instituted a complex filing system that consisted of a folder for acknowledgements of submitted work, another for acceptance letters, and another for rejections (not to mention I created lists and pertinent information in digital form). Guess which folder is overflowing?
     As a result, last week, I had a temper tantrum and viciously deleted the digital file in which I had stored the pertinent information for competitions I had entered (and been rejected from) in case I wanted to enter again...right, like I'd do that, I thought furiously. Has hell frozen over? I asked myself. Of course, I also have to admit that less than a minute and a half later, I "recovered" the file from the "Trash" and put it back on my desktop. You never know, right? I might just write something so incredible that no contest judge or editor could ever resist publishing it. It's that half full glass again.
      So today I decided it might be time to do something a little more productive about the situation, other than just assume I'm simply not that good a writer...because I am...I think. For Christmas one year, right after I first plunged into this whole authorship thing, my thoughtful daughter-in-law gave me a subscription to The Writer magazine, a publication that offers many informative (and thankfully, encouraging) articles on writing skills, publication, and marketing, among other helpful topics. Every month, the magazine also highlights a conference one can attend to improve one's skills.
     However, the conferences cost money; i.e., there's no such thing as a free lunch. Added to the basic registration cost, there are also travel expenses, meals, accommodations, and "extras," such as a 15 minute conference with a "professional editor or literary agent" who will happily "critique" your work, for a "small additional fee." Like this is something I need...I can just call some of my friends (or read through my bulging rejection file). There are "scholarships" available, of course...like if you work at a nail salon and speak fluent Norwegian, or if you are the CEO of a plastics manufacturing firm looking to improve your environmentally conscious image...but nothing I really qualify for.
      And here's the Catch-22: where does one get the money to attend a conference where one can improve one's writing skills? From the income one has received as a successful writer, of course. But if one had received such payments, then why, one asks, would one need to attend a conference to improve one's skills?
    Sadly, I'd still like to go to a writing conference. In the first place, it's hard to come up with a viable excuse for not going (other than the lack of cash), when as a teacher, I spent years telling my students that "learning is a life-long process." And secondly, in my past careers as innkeeper and teacher, I have to confess that I did actually learn something during such events.
     At the innkeeping conferences my husband and I attended, for example, I learned that literally anything can be monogrammed (even toilet paper), you need at least six rooms to make a profit (we had four), you can buy a mix for making "homemade" muffins, and that economy rental cars cannot successfully negotiate the hills in San Francisco (at least the one leading to the Fairmont Hotel where that particular conference was held). The Saturday night parties are also fun, as long as no one makes me wear a Hawaiian shirt.
      I have to admit that the teaching conferences I attended were a bit more productive. At the first one I went to, I was scheduled for the workshops my school signed me up for (after all, they were footing the bill, so who was I to complain?). With my trusty notebook and pen in hand, I entered the first such session and sat down expectantly in the first row. In the front of the room sat the panel of experts, one of whom turned out to be my brother, a piece of information that had somehow passed me by during the registration process. "We could have just talked on the phone," he told me afterwards. This was at the pub down the street where we had lunch together, instead of eating the "complimentary conference buffet," which my brother, a veteran presenter at such events, wisely advised against.
      Overall, though I did acquire a number of new teaching skills at the assorted conferences and "in-service" days I attended during my teaching career. The latter type of events are the ones that take place at one's own school. This gives the kids a day off, and thus successfully stresses out all the mothers in their pink sweats, who have happily dropped their children into your care each morning, and gone off to exercise class...because they now have to find childcare. Somehow this made me feel vindicated, so these days always started out well, even though after a day off the kids were always more hyper and had never done their homework.
     I do have to give the in-service planners at my most recent school credit, being that it was a K-12 school and coming up with an inspirational, educational, day-long program that would apply to the teachers of this vast age span was probably more impossible than squeezing toothpaste back into the tube. Nonetheless, one of the earlier workshops on "bullying" was not exactly what I'd call a rousing success.
     While the leader of the session, a very talented first grade teacher, was patiently explaining the various "models" used to teach the "bully" empathy for the child he was tormenting, all I could think of were the names my high school students called each other on a daily basis. One time I had to look up one such name and by the time I had become truly horrified by the definition, and come up with a way to negotiate the situation, the two kids were already laughing and happily throwing ice cubes from their Dunkin' Donuts drinks at each other across the room.
     What I used to dislike the most about any of these educational opportunities was ending up in a workshop where they expected you to participate...you know, role playing and whatnot. Or the ones where you had to break into small groups and make lists on gigantic drawing pads with partially dried up markers. I just wanted to sit there and listen, or pretend I was taking notes that quite possibly I would never refer to again, and you know, just be inspired, without making any real commitment. Kind of like the way I approach life in general.
      I learned this approach to educational situations from my students, in fact. One time, I actually confronted one of them, who, despite the fact that I was delivering what I thought to be a detailed, fact-filled, and intellectual lecture on the Lost Generation in Paris, simply sat there staring at me. "Don't you want to take some notes?" I asked him at last. "This will be on the test, you know." He simply smiled at me and tapping the side of his head said, "I'm absorbing. It's all up here."
     Then there was the kid who appeared to be seriously concentrating while taking voluminous notes on his laptop. Suddenly, about halfway through my lecture, he threw his hands up the air and shouted "all right!" The kid next to him leaned over and peered at his screen. "Hit a new level?" he asked. I'd like to say both kids failed the test, but sadly, not. At least there aren't any tests at conferences.
     So, bottom line, I may just go to a writing conference sometime soon...what can it hurt? I might actually learn something that would make me a better writer. So I'm going to sign up...right after I make enough money as a writer to cover the registration fee.