So some writer friends and I are heading down (up? sideways) to New Hampshire (up, that's definitely up) in a few weeks to attend the New England Society of Childrens Book Writers and Illustrators conference. Mouthful? Yes. But fun-filled? Even yesser! Writers road trip! When 5 ladies stop being nice and start getting...uh...something, I don't know. I need my thesaurus.
One of my fellow conference goers, I'll call her Miss PDA (and not for the reason you might think), mentioned that she was ordering up a new batch o' business cards to help spread her informational seed. Suddenly, I went into panic mode and thought to myself: Crap, do I need business cards too? Also, I'm hungry. So I made myself some nachos and went straight to a website and ordered some pizza. I mean cards.
Now, it's not the first time I've had business cards. Some might recall the short lived but exciting days of "The Disc Junkie", where old records found new life and the fun flowed like wine mixed with melted vinyl. But those old cards have all found homes in various "Drop Your Card Here For a Free Lunch!" bowls in every Boloco in Boston. Now I've got a forthcoming batch of new ones, real ones with my real profession, my real email address, everything. I feel like I've graduated into something big. I feel like...
In the meantime, I can't wait to start winning free lunches from Boloco again.
Dang it. Now I'm hungry.