Writing conferences demystified, part 2
Why I went to another writing conference.
In my last post, I talked a bunch about my first experience at a conference. One would think that one conference/workshop would be enough, right?
The truth is, each writing conference/workshop has its own unique benefit, giving you the exposure, network, and knowledge to grow as a writer (often cheaper than the cost of a MFA program). Some are really focused on cultivating writing communities. Some have incredible, award-winning teachers, who are experts at their craft and eager to help their students excel. Some have incredible locations, which can be nourishing and inspirational to get out of a writer’s rut. Others are “stamps of approval” on a writing resume, granting you legitimacy and access to a world that might not have been possible, especially for those that didn’t attend MFA programs.
Sirenland checked a lot of these boxes for me.
Similar to One Story, my journey started on a whim: I applied to Sirenland the day of the application deadline, fascinated by the idea of studying writing in Italy. A few weeks later, an acceptance email landed in my inbox. I was floored, fully expecting to get rejected. Imposter syndrome took over as I debated whether I deserved to get in, but I pushed those thoughts aside. The price tag was hefty and it was a significant time commitment with international travel. But, the teaching lineup looked incredible. Plus, I liked the multi-genre focus on memoir and screenwriting and emphasis on close-knit community, exemplified by the 50% attendee return rate. So, I bit the bullet and signed up.
Day in the life of a Sirenland Conference Attendee
Leading up to the conference, I ran into a bunch of logistical hurdles: I fell sick and rescheduled my flight. My rescheduled flight got canceled. I was almost denied entry into Europe since there weren’t many “blank” pages in my passport. But 24 hours later, on a beautiful Sunday evening, I found myself in the glorious Italian coastline, whizzing my way to Le Sirenuse in the private taxi.
The conference was a blur. I woke up most days at 7 or 730 AM, 6 if I needed to workout. I started each morning by standing on my balcony, looking at the water and the Positano coastline. The photos really don’t do it justice, and it never got old.
After breakfast (which was always a massive, delectable spread), we scuttled to our workshop rooms by 9 AM for three hours, where we were expected to have read and prepared comments for each other’s work. It was incredible to conduct the workshop in person (One Story was virtual, so everything happened over zoom), as I found myself more engaged and connected with my fellow writers. Once the workshop wrapped up at 12, I’d get lunch with my classmates. Down time was spent running errands, meeting other people, exploring Positano, and/or preparing for next day’s workshop. In the early evening, there was usually some event, whether a panel, talk, or group dinner. After the event, I’d grab dinner with other conference attendees, getting back to my room by 10 PM to catch up on messages before passing out by 11 PM.
It was exhausting, overwhelming, intellectually stimulating, mind blowing, and beautiful. I felt grateful every single day for being there, especially at Le Sirenuse, which was my first experience at a real five star hotel (aka my White Lotus moment). It was also cool to see my own confidence grow, as I felt way more prepared and confident with the way I participated and how I showed up.
Biggest transformation from Sirenland
I finally feel ready to start a “big” project, whether a book or screenplay (rather than continuing to write random short stories).
Originally, I thought I needed acceptance by a certain number of short stories published or other hallmark of “legitimacy” in order to be good enough to write a book or screenplay. But the pursuit of this “legitimacy” was leading me to burnout, as I was no longer enjoying writing short stories (and the rejection was really starting to get to me). But the more I talked to people, I realized it’s all about the story you want to tell, and the medium you want to tell it in. Some people are good at short stories, but it’s not a prerequisite for doing bigger projects if that’s what you want to do. Sirenland helped me get back to my real goal for writing: to tell the stories that help others feel seen. If my short story projects no longer felt like the right avenue to tell those stories, then screw it. I was going to explore other forms of writing.
To be honest: this realization freaks me out a little bit. It’s daunting to think about writing a book, and in my early explorations of this project, I’m already feeling overwhelmed. Similarly for screenwriting, I feel like a fraud, because I don’t know the first thing about writing screenplays. I don’t even know if I’ll enjoy it, and then I feel like a further fraud for “changing my mind” about the whole thing. I feel tempted to go back to short stories because it feels familiar. I’ve published one story, so it’s legit to say I’m a short story writer. But I’m pushing through, because I know deep down, I want to do something different. So begins a new journey to get familiar with the unfamiliar of these new writing forms, and learn to embrace the discomfort.
Other Takeaways
Exposure as a writer is crucial. Sirenland was the first time I connected the dots with my love of television and bollywood with an inner desire to explore screenwriting. Growing up, Bollywood was the primary way my family connected with each other, and this passion has only gotten more intense as an adult. I also viewed this interest as a distraction, taking me away from doing something “more productive” like studying or working. But Sirenland was the first place where I let my curiosity about the world of television roam free, and admitted that maybe, I did want to make television. This realization is now leading me to explore this more seriously, and even if I don’t end up pursuing it, I’m excited for this reframed learning.
Importance of “Perch” in storytelling: one of the biggest things we discussed when workshopping stories was the “perch” of the narrative. Perch is the point from which the narrator starts telling the story, and explains why the narrator decides which events to share. For example: Breaking Bad’s “perch” is Walter White’s transformation from good to evil, and starts from the moment he’s triggered to start this quest. Even though there are a million side plots, each side plot always returns to this central perch, which keeps the story focused and clear. Most of the revision process is focused on figuring out the perch and adhering to it within the story.
Networking is crucial, especially in creative industries. In a lot of ways, the creative industries (art, writing, film, etc.) are more about who you know than just your raw talent, which is different than tech. It’s almost as important as your raw talent. You have to know the right people to get your foot in the door as much as have quality work. This is what makes the business of writing challenging at times.
Pacing is key. I felt crazy FOMO throughout the conference, as we only had a week to make the most of this experience. Some days, my body was too tired, but I pushed myself to talk to people, or go on adventures, even if I didn’t feel like it. Next time, I want to do a better job of honoring my body’s needs with the opportunity at hand.
Thing of Note
Recap: This section is my way of bringing attention to a thing, person, or idea that’s meaningful/related to the mission of this newsletter. This week, I want to highlight Lawrence Yeo’s post “The Many Worlds of Enough.”
When will I feel enough, or that I have enough? This is a question that has plagued me for as long as I can remember, and has implications for almost every single area of my life. My answer to this question has changed in every major transition moment in my life, and I’ve often had a hard time understanding why. Until I read Yeo’s super insightful post. I love how he explains really difficult, abstract concepts in really simple, easy-to-understand posts with engaging visuals. It feels like a mix of philosophy, spirituality, and blogging, in a way that truly helps me better understand myself and the world around it. Highly recommend reading!
Thanks for Reading!
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