Just Returned
I'm just a few days back from a major writer's conference and my head is still spinning with all of my learning and takeaways. Then this morning it struck me that most folks probably haven't been to one and might wonder what it's like. I've been to a lot. However, it's been almost 25 years since I worked on one.
Beginnings
All those ages ago, I was still a newbie writer with just a couple of books published by a tiny house. Indie publishing still lay a decade in the future. One of the key elements of conference in that era was to get in front of as many agents and editors as possible, hoping they'd be interested in your work. This was done in the hallways when possible, but there were also "pitch sessions." These were done in 10-minute meetings, "Here's my quick pitch about me and my next work, are you interested in reading a draft?"
Being a little crafty, I'd spent several years volunteering as the meeting-room monitor these meetings at this one particular conference, keeping everything smooth and on schedule for the agents and editors. The regulars came to know and like me. They'd ask about my life, my books, and a number of them accepted the rough drafts, though none of them chose to buy it. That's fine, I was in it for the long haul and hunting for the right connections.
Then an opportunity arose, "Would you like to take over the monthly newsletter from our retiring editor?" I went and talked to all the agents and editors I'd befriended, asking if they'd be open to interviews and such if I did take over. A near unanimous, "Love to." I even pre-scheduled some. So, I agreed to take it on as a marketing opportunity for myself and helping other authors like me.
Except I didn't realize that in the final session of that conference I'd be witnessing a coup. A new and avaricious board member had built a power block and, in public, announced the abrupt retirement of the people who had been running the conference for years--much to their shock. Then he looked right at me and said to the crowd, "Anyone interested in taking over the newsletter should come see me." I was friends with the ousted members.
Every agent and editor I'd spoken to turned to look at me in surprise, then every single one turned away. I'd just had 3-4 years of careful building of trust nuked out of existence.
Hence, I never volunteered at a conference again until my friend and business advisor took over the hotel contracts (these are big, expensive, long-term things settled for multiple years at a time) from a closing conference and called me late last year. "I need your help. I want to make this the best indie conference in the world." He knew precisely which button to push to drag me out of hiding.
Attending
So, what actually happens at a writers' conference has evolved a lot over the 28 years since my first one. It used to be mostly about finding the agents and editors, and learning enough craft and technique (and methodology) to wend your way into the gatekeepers' hearts (those agents and editors).
Then the Kindle Christmas happened. E-books were nothing new when the Amazon Kindle came along in 2007, but Amazon figured out a way to make the purchasing and reading easy. Christmas 2011 saw main-stream acceptance of the device when it finally showed up in everyone's stockings. The indie boom was launched.
Like any big technology change, there were jitters and even chaos, but nowhere so much as at writer conferences. At first indie was disparaged as vanity (where you pay someone $10,000 or more to produce and hopefully market your books)--most of these are scams. And that isn't what indie was. Indie was a chance to get around the gatekeepers and offer the readers more options. (And to make a couple dollars per book sale instead of the more typical $0.20-$0.30.)
Those of us who shifted to indie early on were heavily cast adrift. It took Romance Writers of America another half decade to even allow indie talks at the conference. Thrillerfest (the nation's largest thriller conference) says they tolerate them, but even that is a stretch of the reality (I attended last year). So, indies set out to reshape existing conferences or build new ones. (That second option is a beast as you'll see below.)
Attending Again
I had taken a major hiatus after that long-ago lambasting but returned to the conference circuit in the mid-2010s, hoping to find the conference I wanted to attend. I eased back in very carefully until I was a frequent speaker but mostly a quiet attendee.
The real conference happens in the halls. Over time, I skipped more and more scheduled sessions as I made friends (not one of my more agile skills, but even a severe introvert does get there eventually). This is often called the "bar-con" because we sit around in a bar and talk about the challenges we're currently facing. For new authors those conversations are largely about story, for the longer-term authors it's largely about tools and advertising. For career authors, it's all about business.
Yes, there are Zoom groups and online forums, but there's nothing as effective as sitting down face-to-face in a like-minded group and conferences give us that opportunity. Also, longer-term authors are often the speakers or panelists. Unlike most other industries I've worked in, authors love to help out those behind them.
Variability
It's possible to attend a writers' conference almost every week or weekend of the years. And each conference is different. Some in theme: romance, thriller, or SF. Others heavily slanted to readers or only multi-published authors allowed.
There are also cycles to each conference. Their nature can change year-to-year. I used to attend a small one that had about 10 returning speakers each year, and then 20 that kept changing. It was a very stable conference but not one to return to often no matter how good those lead speakers were. Some start with a great idea, get locked into it, and never change or grow. Others will make drastic changes.
The one that suffered a coup went from addressing all levels of writers below full-time pros down to a massive social media campaign recruiting newbies. Yes, it brought in youth and energy. No, it no longer offered nothing to the even marginally seasoned writer and they all departed quickly. Twenty years on, I hear that it still hasn't found a real form again.
Leaping In
Okay, I didn't leap in, but I did agree to help (with only minimal kicking and whining along the way). Why? It was a chance to help build the conference I wanted to attend.
I've spent the last several years hunting for the right conference. I've found some that served me for a time--but no longer do. I found far more that didn't fit at all. I wanted to help shape one that filled in where I felt the others lacked.
At first, I was simply a software tester. (Conferences, especially large ones, are very complex objects.) I did a lot of this testing back in my corporate days. Later on, I was put in charge of organizing the schedule. I took the contracted speakers and organized the 218 sessions. Along the way, I created panels, organized and found leaders for meetups, and all the other necessary steps.
With over a thousand attendees, 70 vendors of services and software tools for authors, and hundreds of readers to the final day's signing event, there were a lot of moving pieces. The core team of 12 had fifty or so volunteers working behind the scenes to make this happen.
That's one of the big keys to any conference; there's a fleet of volunteers. Authors (often mostly just starting out), jump in, seeking knowledge, and to help in any way they can. It makes for a wonderfully collaborative environment.
The Conference
Author Nation ran for 5 days in Las Vegas, I went for 7. It looked something like this:
- Sunday: meetings over meals and in between with other staff and several friends
- Monday: 70 vendors on the show floor. I expected to spend an hour there, I spent every minute of the 6 hours the floor was open meeting with people and discovering new tools and ideas.
- Tuesday-Thursday: Speaking, listening, attending, chatting... Each day from 7a.m. until whenever I fell over (usually way too late).
- Friday: a six-hour signing event by 200 authors. Conference attendees and 100s of other readers streamed in to discover new books and talk about old ones. A great time. Followed by more dinners and meetings before finally leaving Saturday afternoon.
Was it the conference "I wanted to attend"? It was further down the track than any prior conference I've attended. No there yet? Well, I'm leaning back in (with a little less whining) to move it the next step closer. If you're an author and want to come play? Start at: https://authornation.live. If you're a reader, mark your calendar to spend a vacation in Las Vegas centered around the Reader Nation signing event, Nov 7, 2025. I'll be there!