I’ve been invited to attend a Writer’s Group meeting. These are people who write BOOKS. They are serious about it. They attend conferences, they meet regularly, they take classes. These are PROFESSIONAL WRITERS.
I blog. No, I’m not a writer with a blog, I’m a blogger. My most recent post was about what’s in my purse, for the love of God! Thinking about sitting in the same room with these people has me as nervous as a whore in church.
It started when I posted a little tidbit of fiction called It Happened at Pippi’s, and then a follow-up, It Happened at Pippi’s (Part II) (clever, no?). My friend Lisa (a SERIOUS WRITER) encouraged me to keep it up, keep going and finish it. I just laughed. Then a couple of weeks ago she invited me to a meeting of this local Writer’s Group. I insisted she tell people in advance I was a blogger and see if they were still willing to have me attend. Believe it or not, she did, and they are.
So here I am, directions printed out, notebook and pen in my purse, iPhone charged up in case I need to tweet for support, kind of flushed and twitchy from WAY too many cups of coffee. And what’s the burning question on my mind? “What do I wear?”
This is one of those times (like needing to go potty in the woods) when it would be SO much easier to be male. I’d just throw on something relatively clean and hit the road. But, no. Since I am female I have to think about what message my clothes are going send to the people I’m meeting with. Will nice jeans be too casual? Send an “I’m not taking you seriously” vibe? Will everyone be wearing black because they are mature and artistic? Should I wear Birkies for that creative, bohemian look?
I’ve emailed Lisa (who’s probably already regretting inviting me) for advice. If she doesn’t email me back before I have to leave here’s my decision:
Boots. Not nice, new, cute-girl boots, either. Old, beat-up, I-can-kick-your-ass-and-not-break-a-sweat boots. Even if we’re sitting around a table and no one sees them I’ll feel more confident in boots. And if they have a bouncer who throws out goofy twitter-addicted bloggers the boots might give me an edge.