The Crazy Introvert’s Guide to Normal: the writers conference

Okay, so you’re an introvert with a touch of madness–the best sort of introvert, right?–because you write books, opening yourself up for attention, criticism, fame and such. Fame is something any self-respecting introvert runs screaming from…and yet, there you are, publishing books. And what do people who write, do? They go to conferences to meet other people who write to talk about writing. Egad.

I should just go…just walk into the room and sit down… Photo by AlmaGamil_Philippines via Flickr

Never fear. You can do this. And The Crazy Introvert’s Guide to Normal can help.

1. Practice smiling.
Start at least a week before the conference. Smile. Just smile. (Normal people reading this will think we’re nuts, but you’re getting me, aren’t you?)

One thing you’ll notice in large crowds of people trying to have a good time with the like minded is all the smiling going on. Now is not the time for your bitchy relaxed face, your scowling thinking face, or your moody what-am-I-doing-outside face. You must smile. You know this. But what you forget is that smiling is hard.

You know how people like to tell you that it takes more muscles to frown than to smile? Yeah, well, whatever. It takes muscles either way and those muscles could use a work out before you go into a three day smiling marathon. Trust me on this one. Practice smiling.

2. Practice asking people what they write.
You know that’s what they want to tell you, but what you might not know is that you are expected to ask. So practice. There are all sorts of ways to do it.

“And what do you write?” “What are you working on at present?” Pointing to the book they’re carrying around, “Did you write that?”

It’s unfortunate, but true, that not asking people questions in social situations is interpreted as snootery, instead of being rooted in that what-the-hell-am-I-doing-out-in-public astonishment. Since it would be just plain crazy to go around saying, “what the hell am I doing out in public,” it’s best to just practice asking people questions before you go.

“What do you like to read?” “Do you have an agent?” “Are you an indie publisher?” “Will there be dessert, do you think?”

3. Sit at a table that is already occupied.
I know this is like asking you to carry the ring to Mordor and drop it into the fires of Mt. Doom, but trust me on this. You have to do it! Do you have any idea what it looks like for an author to go to a conference, enter the big room, and sit at an unoccupied table in the back? Do you?

You do, I’m sure. It looks like you’re awkward, shy, creepy…or worse, a snoot. We introverts get that snoot jab quite often. Well, don’t be a snoot! Walk into that big room at breakfast, lunch, and dinner and go straight to a table with a few empty seats and sit down. Just sit yourself down.

What are they going to do? Bite you?

Okay, it’s possible that you will be bitten, but you must be brave, good sir writer. Be brave!

4. Think of witty and complimentary things to say.
The normal world has no concept of having things fly out of its mouth–things that aren’t meant to be rude at all, but as it turns out, are taken as quite rude by the normal world. It probably has something to do with context, and the fact that crazy introverts have running, wacky conversations going on in their heads at all times. So unless you’re talking to a fellow introvert, they won’t get the joke.

Or it could be that we’re just wacko.

Anyway, practice compliments. But as Mr. Collins of Pride and Prejudice is wont to do, offer them up as unstudied as possible. That, of course, takes a lot of practice.

So, instead of this:
“You write mysteries? My god that must be hard. I could never do that. I like to be free of the shackles of logic and sense.”
You say this:
“Mystery writer, oh how wonderful. Mystery writers are like puzzle makers. It takes a very intelligent person to write a mystery!”

Because that’s what you meant to say, right? Sure, you’re an introvert and rarely use exclamations unless you’re arguing about how some movie producer totally trashed your favorite book. But trust me. Do the smile thing, ask them the question, and then make your voice sound really high-pitched and excited. Works every time.

And instead of this:
“Romance? I read some of Diana Gabaldon’s stuff. I felt like I was in a porn movie. Those people were humping left and right for no reason at all.”
Dear god, no. Try this:
“Romance, how wonderful! All the sexiest people are romance writers.”
Because you know they are, you just get lost sometimes in your own head and forget to say it out loud, right?

5. Learn the smile and nod.
This isn’t the same as the social smile. This is the I’ll-just-keep-my-mouth-shut-and-vent-in-my-blog-when-I-get-back-home smile. And it always comes with a nod so the person who has just insulted you thinks you agree.

Trust me on this one. It’s for the best.

So, when someone says, for instance, that traditional publishing comes with a guarantee of quality. Just smile and nod.

When someone says you must, absolutely must, must use content editors to tell you where your story needs work. Just smile and nod. Nod and smile.

And when someone tells you, or anyone near you, that success requires 10% writing and 90% marketing, don’t start screaming. Just smile and nod.

Introverts can change the world, it’s true. But you know we can’t do it person to person. So, just smile and nod. Sure, you can say something witty that no one will understand, or quote an obscure author or poet. Then go about your conference knowing that not everyone in the world can dance to your tune.

After all, you’re a crazy introvert. The best type of introvert!

6. Spare no expense (aka: a room of one’s own).
Don’t take the bait when a fellow local writer asks if you’d like to share a ride and a room! Don’t do it! Or worse, don’t ever allow a conference official to match you with a roomie. Dear god, the horror.

Look. You’re an introvert. A crazy one. Just accept it. You need that room. You need that empty space with the heavy door that locks when it closes. Just imagine it! You’re surrounded by people and noise and talking and speeches and questions and smiling for an entire day–morning to evening.

You need that room upstairs in the hotel so that when it gets tough, you can sneak off, take the elevator (even better when you’re the only rider), race to your room, close the door behind you and just stand there gulping in the solitude.

Yes, exactly. You’re a fish out of water and you need that aquarium upstairs every now and then to fill your gills with refreshing aloneness. It’s a necessity.

7. Laugh at yourself
The next best thing to being correctly sociable is being able to laugh at yourself when you aren’t.

When someone asks you who died, because you’re thinking, and to the world it looks like someone’s just informed you that your great Aunt Emma, who used to take you to the circus to ride the elephants and that’s why you wrote that book about the lady who fell in love with the elephants and after they rampaged a circus and killed the trainer guy with the whip they were all shot in the head and then she killed herself, has died.

So, laugh.

When that terrible thing comes flying out of your mouth, like, “Oh, you write horror. I’ve always suspected horror writers were serial killers. You know. When they’re not writing,” laugh.

Okay, if you say that and then laugh it might be creepy. But what are you going to do? You must laugh!

When you are sitting in front of an agent (if that’s what you really want to do), or at a table filled with fantasy writers and you start stuttering and blabbering the way you do when you’re nervous (or just outside in public), laugh.

It will be okay. The normal people will understand. They’ll be nice to you. Either you’ve scared them or you’ve charmed them. Either way, they’ll be nice. And who knows, maybe they’ll think you’re eccentric. All the best writers are eccentric.

And all the best introverts are crazy.