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Life is weird.
Brilliant opening line, eh? Mostly I was thinking about life and weirdness because of the convenient intersection of creating this journal and attending the University of Denver Publishing Institute, which is (so far) about working as a creative person. Since I'm a creative person in need of work (and with something like ten years of informal experience in editing and other facets of publishing), the program seemed like a good idea.
Day One: two brilliant speakers, connected with other attendees, including finding a few other spec-fic and YA fans, missed a train but still got to The Tattered Cover Bookstore in time to hear Diane Mott Davidson speak, and have been effectively in class since nine this morning.
Yep. Twelve hours of class on the first day.
Okay, okay, so there were two snack breaks, lunch, and dinner, but there was no downtime. I spent the entire twelve hours with other DPI students. My feet are still killing me, even though today I wore the good shoes I bought last summer, when I went to San Diego Comic Con and walked all day for five days. Next time I fly, I intend to wear those in the airport instead of the tennis shoes I wore this time.
This was intense for a first day, but I feel accomplished. Not just because I survived, but because I engaged and took notes and learned a lot about the realities of being an editor, which will serve me well as an editor (or any of a number of other jobs we're going to study!) or as a writer. Sometimes I found myself taking two or three different sets of notes: what the speaker was saying, my ideas for innovations in the areas they were talking about, and things to mind as a writer.
I definitely felt upbeat and challenged and inspired. Good first day feelings.
Brilliant opening line, eh? Mostly I was thinking about life and weirdness because of the convenient intersection of creating this journal and attending the University of Denver Publishing Institute, which is (so far) about working as a creative person. Since I'm a creative person in need of work (and with something like ten years of informal experience in editing and other facets of publishing), the program seemed like a good idea.
Day One: two brilliant speakers, connected with other attendees, including finding a few other spec-fic and YA fans, missed a train but still got to The Tattered Cover Bookstore in time to hear Diane Mott Davidson speak, and have been effectively in class since nine this morning.
Yep. Twelve hours of class on the first day.
Okay, okay, so there were two snack breaks, lunch, and dinner, but there was no downtime. I spent the entire twelve hours with other DPI students. My feet are still killing me, even though today I wore the good shoes I bought last summer, when I went to San Diego Comic Con and walked all day for five days. Next time I fly, I intend to wear those in the airport instead of the tennis shoes I wore this time.
This was intense for a first day, but I feel accomplished. Not just because I survived, but because I engaged and took notes and learned a lot about the realities of being an editor, which will serve me well as an editor (or any of a number of other jobs we're going to study!) or as a writer. Sometimes I found myself taking two or three different sets of notes: what the speaker was saying, my ideas for innovations in the areas they were talking about, and things to mind as a writer.
I definitely felt upbeat and challenged and inspired. Good first day feelings.