Nothing like a kids birthday party to ruin a post conference high. Yesterday was agents, and editors, and pitches. And today was spilled apple juice and screaming five-year-olds.
I came home last night with my head buzzing. Keynotes. Critiques. Cool contract anecdotes.
"ItalkedtoSteveMeltzerandStephenBarbararememberedmeandShaunaFeyreallylikedGoldiRocks!" I yammered to my husband.
Two full days at the Princeton Hyatt schmoozing with writers and publishing professionals. I was flying.
I could get addicted to this conference thing.
Then, I woke up this morning and scrambled to get the house ready for Josh's baseball birthday bonanza. Had a dozen little boys running wild, dueling each other with huge inflatable bats.
363 more days to the next annual NJ SCBWI Conference. Maybe I'll see what New England's got cooking?