Nerves. Everybody has them. They're the fat covered strings that run through our bodies telling our parts what to do. Nerves are divided into specific categories, just like everything else in the universe. We categorize them into systems: Central Nervous System (CNS) and the Peripheral Nervous System (PNS).
The CNS is the brain, spinal cord and retina. The PNS is pretty much everything else.
The PNS is then broken into two more divisions: Sensory and Motor. It is the motor division that I'd like to talk about today. But first, to be precise, let's split this division even further into the Autonomic Nervous System and the Somatic Nervous System. I'll leave it at that. I'm sure you really don't care to know the exacts about these two. If you do, send me a message.
Autonomic Nervous System played the antagonist at the Willamette Writers Conference. Let's call this system ANS--even though ANS behaved like an AS*, I'll be nice and call him by his true name.
Fifteen pitches in three days. Can you imagine? ANS had a ball at my expense. He led me to the restroom before and after every pitch. He stomped on my guts, vibrated my heart, screamed in my ears, and stuffed cotton in my mouth and sand covered rocks down my throat. I pretty much hated him.
But, to be honest, I stroked ANS very well the first day. Six pitches for my novel and six requests for pages equates to a blissfully happy Angela.
Day two, not so good. ANS isn't the one to blame, though. He did his job, kept me on my toes, pushed me beyond my comfort zone. I had no business pitching a screenplay. I'm a novelist and will stick with pitching novels for now. Screenplays aren't my thing--yet. So, day two wasn't a loss; it was a learning experience.
Day three, ANS must have slept in. I pitched my novel twice and received two requests for pages.
Willamette Writers Conference gave me the opportunity to meet as many agents and editors as I could and to get my words in front of them. Several of the agents I met fall into the My-Dream-Forever-Agent list. I PRAY that at least one of them feels the same way.
The 2010 Willamette Writers Conference rocked.