conferring

this weekend i attended my first writers conference with 1,100 other YA and picture book writers. the hope, was that in this age of faceless socializing i could meet some actual faces to socialize with.

the night before i intended to be in bed early, but then ended up watching an episode of Battle Star Galactica. and then another. mix in nerves and i didn't fall asleep until 4:30. my alarm went off at 6:15.

the conference was at the beautiful Hyatt at Grand Central Terminal. since i'm painfully early to everything, i arrived at the beginning of registration and had 40 minutes to kill eating bagels, drinking coffee, and trying to look like i wasn't standing by myself. it was then i realized i hadn't been in a fish-out-of-water situation in quite a while.

it was exhilarating. it was awful. standing there, with coffee cup clutched in hand, it felt like a high school dance. you know you're there to dance. everyone else knows you're there to dance. you'd really, really like to dance, but instead it's all sly sizing up, bashful eye contact, and a whole lot of people clearly deciding not to take you for a spin and walking past.

i killed some time with a friendly picture book author and then the conference kicked into gear. there were speakers, and a panel discussion, break-out sessions with editors giving gloomy (trying to be sunny) analysis of the industry, a woman putting her hand on my arm, and in her very southern accent telling me ultra-slowly as if English were my second language: "honey, what you need to get published is an A-gent" and in between and during it was networking, networking, networking.

it was face-filled socializing and it was weird.

but i did meet another great picture book author, and two super helpful, nice YA authors at lunch. and i also learned from the editors that all this new social media that we authors are embracing, hasn't proven to sell books. which is good to know, because i'd hate to think that what now takes up about 60 percent of my life didn't have a point. *insert smiley face symbol here to show i am mostly joking, but a little freaked out by this statement.*

all said, other than some very nice people, this was my favorite part of the conference the first day:

these were the lights on the ceiling of the main ballroom. they looked even prettier from the side.

i cut out early for work. worked and went to sleep at 1. when my alarm went off 5 hours later, i couldn't remember what i was waking up for. then i did and almost rolled over and went back to sleep. instead i groaned, got up, and trekked into the city again.

thank goodness i did. have you read anything by Sara Zarr before? neither had i (though i bought a book) and well, please ask her to speak at your next anything, because she was amazing.

her whole talk was about finding/building a sustainable creative life. to paraphrase: maybe you'll get published this year, maybe next, but you know what? that won't be enough. because there will always be something else you pin your hopes of happiness on. better reviews. more sales. the next book. so if you don't have a sustainable creative life -- one in which you enjoy the work you do, take care of yourself, and produce -- you'll always be miserable. and trust her, she'd been there. in fact, successful as she is, she still struggles with that.

i'm not doing her speech any kind of justice, but it was wonderful. it was worth waking early for, it was worth the cost of admission, it was worth the whole damn thing. i was even that person who waited to thank her after it was over (no worries. i kept it brief). it was exactly what i needed to hear.

i could have left then. but i stayed with the hopes of winning door prizes, not remembering i've never won anything in my life. my prize was getting to leave.

i came home exhausted and couldn't decide if i wanted to waste precious napping time by making lunch. stomach rumbling, i decided delicious buttered pasta was well worth the lost sleeping time. 15 minutes later (whole wheat pasta takes so much longer) i went to drain the water, and promptly poured all the pasta directly into my very dirty sink. only one noodle remained in the pot. if i hadn't been so close to tears, maybe i would have taken a picture:


*insert pasta in sink pic here*


after a snack of canned, buttered chickpeas, i took a nap, and woke to find these weird, um, let's say, missle-shaped marks on my chest:

a quick hour later, it was back to work. walking there, groggy, with terrible hair, i had this thought: What's that Christmas tree doing crossing the street?

but it wasn't a christmas tree. it was a woman in a big green coat.

now, with my first ever writer's conference behind me, what have i learned? many things i already knew but that suddenly feel fresh.

as much as this experience of being a writer varies, for the most part we all experience it the same. also, i miss writing. just as i suspected, the conference underscored that the work is more important than anything else. and i can't wait to get back to it a little more full time. i learned that in this solitary profession, the opportunity exists for a tremendous amount of socializing. i also learned, unexpectadly, that that socializing is a little exhausting.

and most accutely, i learned that i am NOT a morning person. so now, before work, before i mistake another human being for a tree, perhaps another nap is called for.

if they're not for walking, what else are they for?

i'm a notoriously bad shopper. 

somewhere along the way when people were lined up and instilled with the strong desire to crave things, i stepped out of line. probably to peruse the snack bar.

shopping brings out my worst character traits:

a. i don't like spending money. okay, fine. i'm cheap.
b. i can be highly, horribly, indecisive.
c. i will worry about the rightness of my purchase days after making it.

that being said, i've been eyeing these boots because even though i'm a bad shopper, i am the queen of eyeing things. two stores in my neighborhood have had the boots since the fall. both stores now have them on sale.

sale! how i love that word. it's quite possible that, other than food, i've never purchased anything at regular price. no, seriously. even with food, you should see my eyes light up when i see the words "managers special" on a carton of orange juice. how many days until it goes bad? i wonder gleefully as i check the expiration date.

ew. what's wrong with me?

anyway, the boots. the problem with shopping sale, is you often have to deal with clothes that don't fit quite right. since i waited so long, the first store only had them in a size 6. the second had them in a... size 9. yes! i wear an 8. a 9 is only one number off.

trying them on, all the talk-myself-out-of-it began: i could probably get an 8 online for half the price. they stick out kind of funny at the top, don't they. and i don't really need these. (the other two pairs i own have been re-soled twice and are currently ripped up again). i debated . i looked at them in the mirror from this angle and that. i made my usual scrunchy-faces as i was about to put them back. 

then something marvelous happened. another shopper stepped over and said, "those boots are great. they look like you. get them."

after a little pleasant back and forth with her, i heaved a sigh of relief and bought them.

i know. important culture changing protests are going on in Egypt and i'm writing a blog about shopping. but i couldn't help think about all the other things i don't do, even though i would like too, because my cheapness, worry, and indecision opt me out of them.

tomorrow i'm attending a writer's conference that i almost didn't sign up for because of the very same reasons i'm a terrible shopper. a little voice also had to convince me to go and over the course of a week it almost got talked down a bazillion times. this time, that little voice was mine. i've had enough of my worst traits. for all my talk about ending the shoulds that society has placed on us, in terms of success, timeframes, and appropriate jobs and lifestyles, what about ending the better-nots that we inflict on ourselves?

no mas para mi. i'm done with that. and i've got the (slightly too big) boots to show for it.

(not really) all grown up

in an effort to meet real life writers (instead of just reading about them on their blogs or twitter) i've signed up to go to a writers conference this weekend.

i've never been to one before, and even though registration is at 8 in the morning, which means i have to get up at like 6! for two days in a row! (am i getting no sympathy from you 9 to 5ers out there? yes? none? good.) which also means i won't be forming coherent sentences until after the conference is over, i can't wait to see who i meet.

in preparation. i made myself business cards.

as anyone who knew me back when knows, i used to do graphic design. it's been years, but i still like simple clean designs and since all i need on my card is my name -- it's like a game of how many corriewachobs i can have on one surface -- i opted for a basic text only card.

the whole theme of this blog was going to be: look how grown-up i've become. i've reached the point in my life where i actually merit a business card (i know, again, you 9 to 5ers are sheesh-ing me).

but then i posted the card and this happened:

originally i was going to make fun of these things about my business card: a. i didn't realize quite how dirty "her twit" reads until a friend said, "her twit, huh?" oops.

and b. in my efforts to not say her email, which looks like here mail when it's mushed together (i left out spaces between words because the font makes HUGE spaces and i didn't know how to adjust kerning in photoshop) i went with her@gmail, thinking it was pretty self explanatory. i have a gmail account. here's my @gmail name. the first person who looked at my card said, "huh? her@gmail? what's that mean?" sigh.

that was the original intention. but then! in an effort to save my privacy (not from you guys, but from others) and not knowing how to find a plain old black line in my online photo editing software to ink out my email address, i opted to use a mustache instead.

and then, my whole blog post which was originally intended to be about how grown up i'd become, degenerated into me putting mustaches on other pictures.

 on me:

Obviously, since i'm a natural blonde, i have a lighter mustache.

on the Christmas tree in Grand Army Plaza

on this little dude that someone made in a sink at work with a blob of panna cotta and berries

i know, fake mustaches are so last year. or was it two years ago? but yes i giggled all morning doing this and yes, after i stop writing this blog i'll probably go add more fake mustaches to photos instead of doing real work, like um, writing.

but there you have it. my business card -- all 200 copies of it -- says her twit on it and i'm still amused by mustaches.

manythings corrie wachob, indeed. 

rah rah sis boom HA!

something great happened yesterday. the Jets lost!

i know. what kind of New Yorker am i that i'm rooting against the home team?

i'm in the restaurant industry kind of New Yorker. and we all know, there's nothing like a big play-off game, big rivalry game, big division showdown game, or whatever other versions of this team against a New York team game to kill a night's income. it's bad enough we have to contend with Yankee fever for 290 days of the year, but must we also have the Oscars, the Golden Globes (though I'm not really sure we felt that one), Presidential addresses, and blizzards this winter as well?

the last thing we needed was a Jets superbowl.

stats aside, i had a premonition the Jets were going down earlier in the afternoon when my hip hop teacher had us dance to the Steelers theme song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sGSpp4ZJZhY (she hadn't realized that the chorus black and yellow, black and yellow, referred to Pittsburgh until after she choreographed it).

smaller payday aside, in retrospect, yesterday was a pretty good day. the Jets lost and even though i worked, i still partook in the best part of a football party -- the food! when i got home last night, my upstairs housemate's Jets party was in mid-swing and i ate chicken wings and artichoke dip for two hours straight (not an exaggeration).

i'm sorry NYC sports fans. i know how it feels to come close to victory only to walk away with a big fat second place. i'm from Buffalo, remember? but come on, a girls gotta earn a living and didn't the Giants win in '08? that's pretty much the same thing, right?

besides, it's only football. it's not like it's important....like hockey.

if it was easy, they wouldn't call it hard

i didn't post a blog this wednesday. remember that children's book, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day? i had a week like that.

it wasn't one thing in particular. just an overwhelming feeling of stuckness, which i get sometimes. and the equally awful feeling of not being capable of change. which is probably why i suffer from the stuckness so much. mix in a sprinkling of overwhelmed, and whoo-boy was i in for it.

in the grand scheme, i'm lucky that my no good, very bad week didn't have very much very bad about it.
i feel guilty for even complaining, because this whole past week, my life was pretty much as it was, say, three weeks ago (which could be the problem) when i was perfectly happy. and yet, cue the tears, the doom and gloom thoughts, the pull the covers over my head. wtf indeed.

someone at work said that this past monday was proven to annually be the most depressing day of the year. how that is at all scientifically provable, i have no idea, but it didn't feel far from the mark. did you see my monday blog? talk about grasping at straws.

it's weeks like this that i need to remind myself -- or how it actually happened, have my mom, both sisters and numerous friends remind myself -- that sometimes life just doesn't feel fun. period. or maybe that's just being an adult, another pearly bit of wisdom you aren't told as a child.

"pssst, hey kid. you're going to be stupidly weepy when you get older."

sigh.

anyhoo, it's been a while since i posted video, and i have two great clips from the night i hung out with my friend Kevin Augsburg to film the second of the Should videos. i posted them back to back like this because there's a lesson in it. one that i needed constant reminding of this week. sometimes (like in video a.) things go smoothly and life is filled with pure inspiration and fun. and then other times (like in video b.) it requires a few takes and some patience to make things happen.

i've been reading lots of author blogs lately (see my crappy monday post) and it seems we all have favorite sayings and quotes we pin above our desks or next to our writing stations. (i'd love to read your favorite quotes in the comments. ) i have a few too, but the one i always remind myself of is one i made up:

if it was easy, they wouldn't call it hard.

here's to hoping next week is a little sunnier.

* note: this second video is looooonnnngggg. but i love watching it and couldn't bear to take any part out.

a writing, blogging, tweeting monday

whew.

so i'm trying to get up-to-date on the going ons of the YA book world. considering i'm a YA author, i'm coming at this concept a little late to the game, but i always thought my job as a writer ended with writing the novel. right?

um, hell no. (yes, somehow naive me does manage to navigate life.)

so now i am here to officially, belatedly, report that YA readers and authors are amazing! every day i'm stumbling upon a new link that leads to a new blog / author / 16 year-old book worm reviewer / or book i haven't heard of and immediately need to order. times ten. it's incredible.

also, today, for the first time ever, i discovered the usefulness of twitter.

no it's not just a means of putting out random, minute-by-minute self-absorbed thoughts (okay, it can be that too), it's a way to be up to speed on just about everything.

following the links that twits posted, today i read two YA book reviews, notes on a seminar of teen critiques on YA books from an author who attended a conference out in Cali, i contemplated a posting for a job i'd love to apply for out in LA (if i were a different Corrie Wachob), saw a three sentence writing contest i want to enter, and discovered that my favorite bachatta singer just got a new puppy.

it's amazing and amazingly exhausting.

so even though i usually post a fun video on Mondays, today i'm partaking in the national holiday spirit and am taking the day off. sure, this is mainly because i've got nothing to post. but also because for the first time in weeks i wrote all morning (on my novel, not blog) and at the moment, i'm completely, blissfully, computerly pooped-out. 

now i wonder if twitter can help me find the perfect combination bookshelf, chest of drawers i'm looking for.

no longer tied at 23

with this post, i officially outblogged my last blogging attempt.

that's right, i blogged before. i had two followers and that blog was also inspired by my work. my other work. the one that pays.

curious? i will hold you in suspense no more....

http://www.staffmealnyc.blogspot.com/

photos of staff meal! what a cool idea, right?

but here's the thing about blogging about food....i ate it before i remembered to take a picture. also i wasn't as technologically advanced back then, and posting a picture meant plugging in my phone to my computer and then trying to remember how to transfer pictures off it. the whole process took me over an hour (unlike this blog which only takes me 20 hours per post.)

had i only realized i could simply email myself the photo from my phone, perhaps there'd be 123 staff meal posts. but alas.

all this, mixed in with only two followers (in the blog's defense i never promoted it as i didn't want to get in trouble. not that i would, as my bosses are fab and it was a blog of affection and appreciation, but still... it felt very james bondian taking those pictures. which i just ruined by opening my giant yap.).

anyway, two followers mixed in with my food quantity issues, as in: will there be enough food for me to get a second plate? possibly not (there always was). damn it, i'm taking pictures while jose's getting a second helping. now i have to eat even faster so i can quickly get seconds then thirds -- yes, i have issues -- and the blog fell by the wayside.

looking at it now with its sexy photos on black background, i miss it.

the pictures are terrible quality, but the memory of all those meals is great. i had visions of getting into other kitchens in the city and photographing their staff meals. i even sent out facebook messages asking for my friends to send me pics. but alas alas it turns out NOBODY ELSE IN THE WORLD CARES THIS MUCH ABOUT WHAT THEY EAT AT FAMILY MEAL.

23 posts later http://www.staffmealnyc.blogspot.com/ was no more.

or is it?

i resolve... to dump your ass!

maybe it has to do with the new year. in fact, i think there's a Facebook study floating around that backs this up, but boy, it's all about the break-up around here.

ugh. is there anything more miserable? the feelings of loss, loneliness, what ifs and, conversly, if onlys, not to mention the at times near homicidal rage?

a few days into the new year, my gal pal put the kabosh on her three-yearer. the relationship had been slogging along for a while and she felt liberated and proud that she had the guts to call it quits. then over drinks the following night a close friend asked what my gal pal thought if she (close friend) were to make-out with the ex in the near future, hinting that said make-out was likely to happen sooner than later.

ooph.

there went all feelings of control and strength. enter the searing rage and crying while biking into work phase.

it's been a few days now and my friend is recooping nicely (though she is counting one less among her circle of friends), but there's nothing worse than seeing someone else in all those very familiar emotions. actually, scratch that. it's way worse being in those familiar emotions.

a while back, i was off again with an on again off again flame. i knew i'd be seeing him one night and was debating whether to wear the earrings that he had recently given me. i thought if i wore them i'd be subliminally saying i was still into him which i didn't want to imply because this time we were over over. yet not wearing them felt like an unnecessary slap. after all, we hadn't parted on bad terms and i wore the earrings every single day.

i texted my mom for an opinion.

yes, she wrote back, i'd wear them, even just to show you appreciated the gift.

i put the earrings on, thought better of it and texted one of my best buds.

not sure i have good advice, she wrote, as i don't have a positive outlook on him as a boyfriend. just cause i luv ya.

ouch. i took the earrings off. then as a tie-breaker, i texted my dilemma to a third friend who was in a similar on again off again relationship.

huh? she wrote back.

exactly. what had i come too, that i thought or cared about the hidden meanings behind my ear accessories? break-up levels, that's what i had come to.

so lets hear them in the comments. i want your worst break-up stories, and then because the opposite side of the tunnel is always well lit, or as my gal pal was told at work: hay muchos pescados en la sea, i also wanna hear something good that came out of the breakup.

and in the spirit of bad break-ups, an ode to my gal pal, here's this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vPhCvyb5jeQ

ending the shoulds featuring Kevin Augsburg

success.

what a freakin’ trip-up word. (and not especially easy to write about, let me tell you. this blog post has gone through countless revisions). is there anything more elusive than this its-entirely-in-the-eye-of-the-beholder notion? i’m convinced it’s our ideas of success, but more so the societal benchmarks of it, that make the Shoulds so evil.

but as much as i want to rail against materialism and achievement's trappings, i won't, because success is also a huge motivator. and what's wrong with wanting better for yourself? also how interesting are we as humans that we'll strive and strive to reach a goal, achieve it, and then almost immediately set the bar higher to achieve something else. it’s pretty amazing, actually.

what I’d like to see go, what causes the anxious racing brain at 4 a.m., the should i want to end, is the manufactured timeframe.

never mind careers in the arts, it’s not realistic to expect that we'll all be at the same place at the same time in our lives. ever. so how ‘bout we ease up on ourselves a bit? the worst that can happen? you die alone, broke, with no family or friends.

I'M KIDDING! no, the worst that can happen is you never become successful.

gasp. i said it. some of us might never get to where our younger selves pictured us. but instead we’ll get to somewhere else. so aim really high and make the ensuing journey, no matter how long it takes you or where you end up, as enjoyable as possible. because regardless of benchmarks and timelines, if you love what you do, with persistence and patience, i firmly believe that all hard work eventually pays off.

now if only there was a way to tell when that day might be. no such luck, right? so why not live like it's tomorrow?

because who knows, it just might be.

* sorry all, i realize the quality of this video can be way better, but when i tried to upload the video in a higher quality format, the text got all wonky. please bear with my graininess. grr.

homeward? bound

in a few hours i'm leaving Buffalo to head home to Brooklyn. that's what i always say, head home to Brooklyn. in all honesty, this time it feels like i'm leaving home to head somewhere else.

what do you do when everyone you love is in a place you don't love to live? you make multiple trips back, i guess.

either way, this was an amazing visit. breakfasts with my best friends. a bonding tea and orange juice with my dad. a whirlwind of a visit with my cousins and auntie and uncle. two, count them two, visits with my lil sis. i realize this isn't an interesting blog post as much as it is a shout out, but i'm sleepy and jumping on a plane in a  few hours, and had to put down somewhere that this time especially, it's hard to go.

once i'm back, it will all be fine. i'll be happy to be in my space and i already have plans for a get together with my other, other best gal.

but as i get older, i become more and more of a mama's girl. it can't be helped. and a few visits a few times a year doesn't seem like enough time spent with my favorite person. maybe when the book sells i can buy a house in Midwood, Brooklyn and force my mom and step-dad to move out there. positive thinking right?

wait. crap. barbara erhenreich says positive thinking doesn't work. so i mean, maybe i'll book more airfare home.

in the meantime, stay tuned my blogging friends, next week is going to be awesome here at Unfortunate Behaviors. on Monday i'm posting the second in my series of Ending the Shoulds videos.

until then, here are a few reasons why we're a hardy, perhaps lil' chubby, bunch in Buffalo:

This is the spaghetti parm at Chef's (though as my mama pointed out, it's really spaghetti mozarella) where after finishing a bottle of wine with me, my mama declared in a rush that, "I'm the boggle champion." even though i had sweepingly won the night before. hmm. interesting to see the things that come out when you've had a little to drink.

This was the beef wellington we made in a belated celebration of new years. Frighteningly, this was my plate after we finished eating the beef wellington:

get ready Brooklyn, five pounds heavier Corrie is coming home.

reading wednesday

i'm reading two non-fiction books at the moment. Bright-Sided investigates the wave of positive thinking that's blanketed the nation. in it Barbara Ehrenreich tries to disprove the "science" that surrounds phenomena like The Secret.

i have to admit, i've been sending out lots of positive thoughts lately. it seems everyone i know tells me that i can bring about positive change in my life with visualization and a great attitude. part of me believes this. the other part -- the part which belongs to the woman who giggled through Natalie Portman's breakdown at the end of Black Swan -- couldn't wait to get my hands on Ehrenreich's book.
it's a refreshing, interesting read. it tries to erase the concern that the reason i haven't: gotten a new job, apartment etc isn't because i haven't been putting out enough good thoughts, it's just because, well, i haven't. she's not advocating a pessimistic outlook, just a realistic one.

even better Bright-Sided erases the worry that i might attract negative things to my world with the cranky, envious emotions i'm experiencing by reading early thirties, successful blogger/writer, socially responsible, hip, brooklyn resider Cathy Erway's The Art of Eating In.

book on young woman cooking her way to success combined with book on feeling alright about feeling frustrated and negative? now that's inspired reading.

marathon visit

i'm home. and yes, driving in, there was an initial self-scare realization that i just booked a visit for over a week! a week of vacation? why didn't i actually travel somewhere? somewhere i'd never been, that was warm and sunny and i could practice Spanish?

the shoulds evaporated as soon as i walked in my parent's front door. i love being here. this is my tribe.

before coming to Buffalo, i spent a few days with my upstairs housemate's family a half-hour outside of Syracuse. the effects of family were all over her, too. while normally she is a sassy, social, self-assured woman, all those traits get meshed with the usual stresses that come with fending for yourself in the city. surrounded by her family, the stress sloughed off, and she was just the sassy, social, self-assured woman. 

i feel that way here, too. gone is the anxious, bad sleeping, Corrie. in Buffalo, i'm just a well-loved big sister, best friend, daughter, niece, and cousin. so why not move back? because i also like being the best friend, lots of friends, kid sister, blogger, on-again off-again, always stumbling and getting back up girl that lives in Brooklyn.

that's life, right? it's all about balance. so 8 days home? thank goodness. i can get even again. even though with all the running around while i'm here i feel a lot like this: