So call me bipolar. My blue funk of yesterday hath been blasted away. I came home last night to a phone call from Christine Alexiou (she of the documentary film, aka Docu-Chick...sounds like a super hero name, doesn't it?). We talked a bit about how the documentary was going so far and what they had planned for Reno. She mentioned they wanted to film me with an editor on an individual appointment. But for any of you who have been reading from this blog's inception last month, you are well aware that the original appointment I had with Melissa Endlich of HQN was kyboshed when she moved to Steeple Hill, and the only appointment left for me was a group appointment with Abby Zidle at HQN. Of course, I'm happy to get any appointment with any editor, especially since a lot of folks didn't manage to get anything, so I was thrilled either way. But if I were being honest, I would easily admit that my dream appointment was with Kelly Harms of Avon. But let's be serious...those were snatched up faster than the speed of light and long gone before us Pro status pleblings ever got logged on.
But fate has a funky way of changing things around when you least expect it to. Christine scored an appointment for me with Kelly Harms so they could get it on film. I can't believe it! My editor of choice, and all on film...oh good lord...all on film...gasp...oh well, why not have all of your most special and humiliating moments (of which I expect this may be a lovely combination of the two should the verbal dyslexia take over) on film? Have at it, I say, what's a girl got to lose?
I'm really excited. Even if I do make a fool of myself for all of the viewing public to see, the experience alone will make it well worth it. And hey, I've been laughing at myself for years, so why not one more time, right? Besides, I'll have my RWAC amigos cheering me on and most likely comforting me afterwards should I crash and burn. Hopefully there will be wine involved. And chocolate. The way I look at things, so long as you have a good story to tell afterwards, how bad can it be?
Some other things Christine is looking at doing is following me to a few of the sessions, one of which is the Swords & Swordsmen (I think that's what it's called). She thought that one sounded up my alley and it was, in fact, the first one I circled as a 'must go to'. Distant Hearts takes place in Scotland and there will be plenty of sword-fighting, so I definitely wanted to check it out. Now I will be doing it with a camera crew in tow. I can't even begin to describe to you how strange that seems when I try to picture it in my mind. Do you think they'll let me wield a sword? I swear I'll try not to slay any of the competition. Although if you are in the near vicinity, don't get too close, I can be a bit of a klutz at times. Hmm...perhaps they shouldn't let me near the sharp objects.
I am so excited about Reno I'm starting to count the days. The fact that I will probably have to raffle off a kidney to the highest bidder upon my return just to cover the mounting debt I've incurred trying to afford this trip hardly rates a second thought any more. You gotta spend money to make money, I keep saying. And who in their right mind would pass up an experience of having their first national conference documented on film? Not me. This may well be the most fun I've had in ages, and I'm feeling long overdue.