I am sitting in my comfy chair in my office, laptop in lap. Feeling a little melancholy, happy, depressed. I’ve got a glass of whiskey next to me. It’s dark in here, and I am really tired. It’s Sunday evening. It’s this way every year.
Our DFWCON conference committee works pretty incessantly all year long to make the conference better every time. We have new members and grizzled veterans join the group which creates a different blend of ideas and juices flowing.
The year builds through a flux of hope, fun, fear, anticipation, fear, laughing, fear, and finally elation on the Thursday night before the conference. I think waking up Friday morning is the best time of the entire Dallas Fort Worth Writers’ Conference (DFWCON) weekend for me.
It’s the anticipation of an extremely fun week of meeting people, learning new things, and putting out fires.
The old adage of a duck, all calm above the water, and insane paddling below, is exactly what we do. Most attendees will never see the absolute insanity we endure and experience while they are having a great time at our conference.
And that’s the way it should be.
Once Friday night passes, and the festivities start to wind down, the anticipation grows. Saturday is The Big Day. It’s the one everyone gets pumped for and we all rock out on. Saturday is, to us putting it on, the most exhilarating, exhausting, inspiring day of the whole weekend. It’s the day where we get to see if every thing we’ve been planning all year will actually come to fruition, or disaster. Most of the time, it works out.
Once the Saturday night activities wind down, and we realize Sunday is coming, most of us get a little melancholy. We realize the long months of planning, the hours of arguing over the smallest details, the frantic last minute run to the printer, are all about to come to an end for another year. It satisfying to complete the weekend in a good way, but it’s also bittersweet. All your handwork is about to be over with. You’re about to have to go back to the real world and back to your job. The fun fantasy weekend is almost over and you wish the party could continue for ever.
Like I said, it’s this way every year. And that’s ok. The emotions simmer close to the surface toward the end of Sunday, and I have never seen one Director not break down into tears after it’s over. Not tears of defeat, but tears of relief. Tears of completion. Tears of sadness. Tears of satisfaction. The pressure is finally over, you landed the plane, and everyone is clapping you on the back and telling you how good of job you did. (We can never tell if we’re doing a good job. We’re too busy!) It’s a great feeling, and a humbling one for us all. The adrenaline flows out and you slowly sink down into the post-DFWCON haze, which typically lasts around a month.
Then you start to get that itch again.
Hello, 2015 DFWCON. I am ready for you.