Well, I suppose I should tell my story of the San Diego State University Writer's Conference, for all one of you who are interested (hi Mom!).

Background: every year for the past 26 years, San Diego State University has held a writer's conference, designed to help aspiring writers meet with industry professionals. I first found out about it via my instructor at UC Irvine, who recommended it and has had several students who have had success at the conference.

The conference took place from January 29-31 and, after a year taking classes and working in a critique group, was to be my first foray into the world of professional writing.

The conference started Friday evening (I took a half-day at my day job so I could have time to prepare and not have to fight rush hour traffic to San Diego) with a mixer (alcohol!). The ballroom of the hotel where the mixer was held had tables assigned by genre, so you could meet with people with similar interests. Aside from a bit of not-at-all-awkward-nosiree, when I sat down at the SFF table where the only other person was a 15 year-old girl ("Hi! I'm twice your age and drinking alcohol and we're sharing a table. No, I'm not a stalker or pedo, why do you ask?"), the mixer was enjoyable. I met with some of my friends from my writing classes who also came to the conference. Also, towards the end of the evening a woman—who I later found out was Loretta Barrett, a very, very prominent literary agent—joined the SFF table. While she didn't represent that genre at all, she did mention that it was the fastest-growing segment in the entire publishing industry. She also talked about some interesting things, such as how writing isn't a profession, it's a vocation (that makes me feel better for not getting paid for it!).

The conference proper started on Saturday with a wonderful keynote address by a man named Chris Vogler, who has worked in Hollywood for years. He worked at Disney during their recent *ahem* "Golden Age". (True story: you know that part at the beginning of Lion King where the baboon holds up Simba and the beam of sunlight illuminates him? The lightbeam was his idea. He said he was inspired by his Catholic upbringing when, during morning mass, the sunlight would stream through the stained glass behind the altar and illuminate the priest.) His speech was about "the path," both of the character and of the writer. (His book, The Writer's Journey, is about the Mythic quest of the hero—and of the writer—illustrated most fully by Luke Skywalker's path in Star Wars.) It was pleasing to hear, because I've had the idea for a while that I'm on a path. It started when I decided to write a novel and it ends (hopefully) with me getting published. (I'll write more about "the path" at a later date.)

Almost immediately after that I had my first two meetings. For a non-trivial sum of money, you can arrange to meet with an agent and/or editor for either an advanced reading appointment, where you submit your first 10 pages ahead of time to be read by an editor, or a consultation, where you tell your story idea to an agent/editor and receive feedback about the idea and market viability, or just ask general questions. You could schedule in advance 1 advanced reading appointment and 2 consultations, although additional consultation appointments were available at the conference. Meetings are 10 minutes.

My first meeting was my advanced reading appointment, with an editor from William Morrow.

She didn't like it.

She was polite about it, and used what my instructor calls the "Oreo cookie" or what Stewie Griffin calls the "compliment sandwich" (positive/negative/positive feedback; although the positive feedback at the beginning and the end was basically the same thing repeated, so it was more of half an Oreo smooshed up against a mirror). She gave me a compliment I will most definitely take, that I am a good commercial writer and I keep the pages turning. Her criticisms were that, well, she didn't like it. She said that in a novel's opening pages (which is what you submit for an advanced reading appointment: the first 10 pages of your novel), she looks to discover about the central character's motivations and goals; where he's coming from and going to. Since my central character doesn't even show up until page 16, it didn't really meet her criteria. She didn't like the big action and battle right up front, where we don't even know who's who. She pointed out that there are a number of (as she called them) "sci-fi" clichés (and there's a clue that she might not be my target editor; to people in the industry, it's "SF"; ask John C. Wright): the asteroid field, the technical term with a funny spelling (although I don't think she knows what a "fluyt" is, or that I didn't actually make up that word). She also didn't like the dialect (saying "less is more"), what with the sailor-speak. But she was nice, and offered words of encouragement.

Oh well. I didn't have time to dwell on my failure or how much I suck as a writer and, therefore, as a human being. Because not 2 minutes later (literally!) I had my next appointment, with a real SFF editor, from Baen books, the largest independent publisher of Science Fiction and Fantasy in the world.

This guy knew his stuff and offered some good advice. He wasn't really there to listen to pitches or find bright new writers. He was just pointing the SFF authors in the right direction. "This conference is great and all, but if you really want to meet the science fiction industry professionals...." He told me about all the conferences where the publishers and editors and authors go (not Comic-Con!). I also pitched JF:SP to him, briefly.

"Sounds humorous."

"Yeah, like Pirates of the Caribbean... in spaaaaaace."

"There's not much market for humorous science fiction novels right now," he told me. But he did give me the name of an editor at Tor and one at Baen who, he said, if I could get my manuscript into their hands, they might appreciate the humor. Useful knowledge, even if I didn't generate interest.

He gave me the advice that I should be writing short fiction. Firstly, there is a market for humorous short fiction; secondly, it's much easier to get short fiction published, and thirdly, it's much easier to get a novel published if you've already published short fiction. This was interesting

There were a few talks and panels I attended that afternoon that were of interest. Every agent at the conference was on a panel at some point through the day, so I attended a panel of one of the agents that I would meet the following day (her name is "Nephele", pronounced "Nĕ'-fə-lē"). It was informative and useful.

Saturday ended with whine and cheese. Social stuff. Y'know, the stuff I hate. (I think that was the hardest part of the weekend for me: always being "on." I can approximate being a social person for brief periods, but to keep it up for nearly three days is taxing. I had no appetite at all over the weekend, and it was almost 4 or 5 days before it came back.) I ended the evening with dinner with the other writers from my critique group.

Sunday began early (again) with the editor's choice awards. Every editor who participated in advanced reading appointments picked one submission that they liked the most and the author received an award (and nothing else). I had already had my appointment with the editor, so I knew I wasn't eligible, but a girl from my critique group did win one.

The awards were followed by another keynote, this time by an author named Robert Dugoni, who again spoke of the "path". He told his own story about how he became a novelist. He said he knew that's what he wanted to be since he was about seven, but he came from a family of over-achievers—doctors and lawyers—so he went to law school instead. He said that three weeks in, he knew it wasn't for him, and that he'd hate it, but he couldn't quit (let his family down!) and continued on, graduating from law school and getting a job at a firm. He was successful, making money, as he says, living the American dream. Trouble was, "it wasn't my dream."

One day, he woke to go to work, but instead of getting up, he just sat in bed and said "I can't do this anymore." His supporting wife told him. "Then we won't."

He recounted the rest of his story, how he learned to write, how he met an agent (then that agent died), how he met the person that helped him write his first book, and how he finally found the agent that helped him publish. He's now a New York Times bestselling author.

After the keynote, I had a meeting with the agent (Nephele) who I spoke with the previous evening. She had said when I talked with her previously that the best use of the consultation appointment wasn't to pitch your story—you can submit it to her any day of the year—but instead was to just ask questions. After all, it's not every day you get 10 minutes of one-on-one time with an editor or agent.

So that's what I did: asked her questions. I asked her if humorous SF could work (yes) and if I'm ruining my opening by starting in the POV of someone other than the main character (maybe/hard to say without reading it). The best advice she gave was this: for authors who are writing a series, don't write the second book in the series before the first is sold. You can outline it, write a synopsis, write down notes, but don't invest a lot of time on it. If the first one is unsellable, then you've wasted a whole lot of time. Instead, she said, I should be working on something else. This tied in well with what the SF editor told me, to write short fiction, and helps me understand, a least a little bit, where the next part of my "path" leads.

Shortly after that, I had my last appointment with an agent. When I signed up for my appointments, back at the end of December, I had already paid for three, but when they released the list of editors and agents in attendance, only two specifically listed SF as an area of interest, so I had to pick one who sounded remotely close for my third appointment. (When I got to the conference, I found that the editor at Baen had signed up late and was conducting consultation appointments, so I added him at the conference.)

So I met with this other agent who I picked, I think, because he said he had experience with book-to-movie deals (delusions of grandeur, I know; DON'T JUDGE ME!).

"Ok," he says, looking at his list of consultations. "Joseph.... Space Pirates?"

"Yes, that's me."

"I don't represent Science Ficiton. No sci-fi, fantasy, or horror."

Me: blank stare.

"Don't worry about it. Tell me about your story and I'll point you to an agent who can help."

I pitch him JF:SP, trying not to stumble too much over the initial shock. I get about half way in to my pitch when he interrupts me.

"So, is there a lot of violence in this?"

"No."

"Any sex?"

"Um, no?"

"You ever think it might be Young Adult?"

Me: blank stare. This blank stare is, like my one from a minute previous, also from shock, but the shock of "Ohmigod I'm such an idiot why didn't I think of that" instead of the more general "Ohmigod I'm such an idiot."

The conversation progresses. He asks me where the idea came from. "A video game I never made." Who plays video games, he points out? (His high school and college aged sons both play WoW. I hide my boldly emblazoned "Blizzard" bag and notebook, just in case.)

How long is it? He asks. "84,000 words." Can I cut it in two? Make a series? (YA tends to be 40,000 words. )"It's supposed to be a series." There ya go.

He points out a couple other things: it's easier for a new author to break into YA publishing, and YA is a much larger market than SF.

I ask him about the agent he promised to point me towards. "That's me. I represent YA. When you've trimmed it to 40,000 words, send it to me." He hands me a business card.

The meeting concludes and I spend the rest of the conference wandering in a daze. How could it have been so obvious, and yet I never saw it? I tried to keep the story clean; language, sex, violence, etc. If you made it into a movie it would be PG. One of the other writers from my critique group would occasionally leave comments that I should read it to Damien when he's old enough. The hang-up of the light-hearted humorous nature doesn't apply in YA. All these little pieces, which to me seemed unrelated, suddenly snap into place. It was staring me in the face the entire time.

(For those of you curious about my rather odd Facebook status update, this is what it was about.)

The conference ended rather anticlimactically. I skipped the last sessions (too tired, nothing interesting). Most people had already left, and I didn't even get to say goodbye to my friends who were there.

So the conference was completely different from what I expected, but probably exactly what I needed. The Path, previously unclear where it lead from San Diego, is a little more obvious. There are two branches to follow, short stories and young adult. Now I just need to figure out how to trim Jack Flint: Space Pirate in half. And figure out what to write next. (Checks notebook of ideas. Hmmmm.)