by Anne Schroeder
The thought occurred to me while I gave my farewell speech as President of
WWW—a speaker’s podium is a great spot for discovering your place in the world.
I heard people laugh at the right places and it felt really good. But what I
noticed about my talk was the way the phrase “I had found my tribe” resonated
with those of you listening. I could tell by the smiles and nods that we have all
found our tribe in this group of talented, spirited women and men.
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| Anne & part of her Tribe, Andrea Downing & Kelly Wurth ~All photos by Roni McFadden |
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There were a lot of times when the tribe notion occurred—and
most were not what I expected them to be. Wendy Claus knocked me out with her
humorous excerpt from her LAURA winning short story. She made me remember how
good it feels to laugh. Erin Turner knitted a sock while we talked books and I
appreciated how it felt to be included. Sleepy writers pushed purses aside at
crowded breakfast tables at 7:00 AM
and I felt like a member of the “in-crowd.” Roni McFadden took my photo and I
felt valued.
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| David J. Langum, Sr., Patricia Ackerman and Ann Parker |
I love how we buy
books from each other and wait to have them signed. I love how everyone groans
over the fabulous chocolate cake and then only eats half. I love that every
year when I return to the WWW
Conference I feel less like a stranger and more like a sister returning to a
family reunion.
I love that some of us show up in jeans and boots fresh from
the corral and others show up in high heels and skinny skirts. A room full of
pilots or firefighters or yoga practitioners will usually look like what they
are, but a room full of writers can look like, well, like us—unidentifiable,
and filled with hope and creative energy. I attended a national RWA Conference
in San Jose, CA in the early 90s and expected to see
dazzling sex sirens dressed in slinky evening gowns. Instead, I saw more than a
few overweight housewives with plain hair and no makeup inquiring about the
next new romance trend. Some came to breakfast in their pajamas and nobody
laughed. I loved that about them—sex-crazed women fascinated by ideas and
words. Just like us.
So what makes WWW
my tribe? I think it’s the way we all struggle for recognition for our regional
books and novels. We share a fierce and undying love of the American West and
this bonds us the same way it bonds teens at Comic-Con. At the WWW Conference I find writers who “get” me and whom
I “get” without even knowing their name. Safety among friends; we get it that it
doesn’t hurt to say “yes” when an opportunity shows itself. Nobody will
laugh—unless it’s at the hilarious short story someone reads from the podium or
the chocolate cake we stick in our pajama pockets to take back to our room.
Until next year, my friends.