Kyle Kerr

On Conferences And Procrastination

09/12/08 | Genius Mode, Idiot Mode, Maui, My Writings, Procrastination | 6 Comments

[Please note that there is ANOTHER new post under this one as well!]

I suck.  Honestly, I’m not kidding.  I don’t know how I’m supposed to get published if I don’t write, and I haven’t been.  Not for months now.  I could talk about all of the stresses I’ve been having in my life lately, but they’d all sound oddly like excuses, which is exactly what they’d be.  There have been many writers before who have kept going through tough times (*cough*Jo Rowling*cough*), so what do I have to say for myself?  I suck.

Three weeks ago I made the 12 hour trip from Philadelphia to Honolulu for the Maui Writers Conference and Retreat (which was obviously on hiatus from Maui!).  It was my second time attending the conference and retreat, and I just have to say… it was weird.  I didn’t like having it in Honolulu.  It’s hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t experienced the retreat in Maui, but there’s this sort of spiritual ambiance about that island, not to mention the fact that you are so secluded and are almost forced to interact with all of the other retreaters (which is a DEFINITE plus!).  But that didn’t happen this year.  Yes, I walked away with new friends (hi Edna, Kim, Ryan, Tracy and Linda!), but I don’t think we were around each other enough.  Last year, I ate with someone new almost every meal, and had drinks every night.  This year (as much as I love them!), I spent most of my time with my roommates, who I’d met last year.  It was just off…

Besides that, the retreat itself was amazing.  I studied alongside five other hand-picked students in a Masters Class with NYT bestselling author Steve Berry, who is a master craftsman himself.  I had heard horror stories about him teaching a previous retreat in Fiji—something about half the class winding up in tears?—but I have to say that I welcomed the criticism.  As he likes to put it, you don’t become a better writer by people telling you how amazing you are all the time.  And Steve was nothing but honest, definitely giving compliments when necessary, but always keeping it real.  Surprisingly, there were no tears (at least not IN class, anyway!), and I believe that we have all walked away better writers.

I was sort of shocked that Steve was fairly complimentary of my work.  Keep in mind my abovementioned statement of him being a hard-ass when I say… I was the only writer in the class that he complimented TO THE CLASS.  We were sitting there, going over my writing sample, when he actually said “This boy can write.” (I almost added an exclamation mark there, but Steve doesn’t really talk in exclamation marks and he would probably die if I ever used one in my writing, anyway… and yes, I can see the four I’ve already used!  Five… Damn.) His biggest criticism of my writing was that I need to work on structure, something I wholeheartedly agree with.  He even wrote a special dedication in the book of his I had him sign: “You’re going to make it.”

I hope so!

The thing is, I need to get back into the swing of things.  I still need to rewrite the entire second half of my book (about 40 pages worth… it’s a short second half), and add three or four new chapters to the first half, which will help with pacing and character development.  Plus, the general editing that needs to be done for tightening and strengthening my prose.  I’ve got a bit of work to do, obviously, and it needs to be done soon.  I’ve even given myself a deadline to finish all rewrites and edits by the end of October, which is 49 days from now.  Now, I’ve just got to sit down and DO IT!

It was nice being able to see so many amazing writers.  Not only did I get to sit in the presence of Steve Berry for hours a day, but I got to be around David Morrell (the father of RAMBO), John Lescroart, William Broadbent, William Martin, Ann Hood, and my retreat teacher from last year and personal friend, Gary Braver.  I was hoping to get to see James Rollins again, who I met last year in Maui and actually had drinks with at ThrillerFest in July, but he had to pull out at the last minute because of an unfortunate family emergency.  He and his family are on my mind every day.

Now, for any of you who know me, this next bit may come as a shock: I WENT SURFING.  Yes, me, in the ocean, on a little board.  I’ll let you get the laughs out before we proceed.

Not only did I go surfing, but I went surfing with THREE BESTSELLING AUTHORS!  Steve, John Lescroart and Bill Broadbent joined me with Steve’s wife, Liz, a friend of hers and the woman’s husband, and another member of my retreat class, Kim, who organized our little expedition.  That’s a pretty cool story to be able to tell, right?

(I’ll save the embarrassing pictures for myself!
From far left: Liz, her friend, me, Liz’s friend’s husband, Bill, John, Steve, and Kim… muscle guy with no shirt is our instructor, obviously)

Okay, let’s just say that having long hair does not help in the slightest.  And, being a rather bigger boy (*sigh*), I got tired REAL fast.  I didn’t realize how much energy it would take just to paddle out to the surfing point!  I don’t think I’ve ever sweated so much in such a short period of time.  Did it help that I was in cold water?  Not really.  While all of the skinny people were having a blast, I was ready to just die.  I fell off the board a couple of times (five), and it’s very hard to get back onto it when you’re not allowed to put your feet on the ocean floor.  Why weren’t we, you ask?  Because it was covered with such wonderful things as coral, broken shells, sea urchins, and all manner of lovely things that you can cut your feet on and attract our little friends, the sharks.  There was one instance when I was having a particularly difficult time getting back on the board, when the instructor pulled up beside me for encouragement.  I had my arms stretched across the board and the top of my chest on, but couldn’t manage more than that.  “One chest at a time!” was his helpful tip.  I could only look at him with an expression I’m sure would have killed puppies.  Then he said, “One tit at a time!” Ah, now I got you, thanks.

By the time we were heading into shore, I was so exhausted that I could hardly move, let alone paddle.  So, our instructor pulled up next to me, put his foot on my board, and literally “toe’d” me into shore.

Let’s just say that it will be a while until I get back on a surfboard again.  Maybe next year, if I’ve lost 100 pounds and can bench-press a small whale.

Until next…

Kyle W. Kerr