Two weeks ago I attended an event that not only found me at a crossroads in my life, it was also named Crossroads. There were no answers to the questions I was asking myself at the time, and my reasons for going had nothing to do with decisions I faced. My reasoning was far more tacky. It was close, and I am poor.
I always wanted to attend any number of writing events from Writer's Digest West/East to just about any York writing group. It just so happened that I saw an ad for Crossroads Macon in my e-mail one day, and it met all of my restrictions; Cheap, close, and it gave me the added benefit of a weekend away to focus solely on all this writing stuff that has so pervaded my life.
To say I had low expectations would be accurate, but harsh. I had no frame of reference. I was coming into this conference with no idea of the experiences it would provide, nor of the people I would meet and talk smack with/to later. Let me frame all of the foregoing with the sentiment I heard repeatedly on Sunday after the main event, "The bar has been set very high for any other conference."
As I sit here in my favorite office space (The Public Library)contemplating Crossroads, I find it has done so much more for me, as a person who writes, than I ever expected. There are so many bright moments in my memory: The Orange Liquid from Hell, Awkward Man Hugs(#HugGate), Famous bearded personages, Literary temptresses, The milking of the creamer(no link for it. It shall remain infamous in perpetuity).
I don't tell you of all of these inside memories to make you jealous... well, maybe a little, but what I want you to take from this is a driving desire not to miss next year. Forge some friendships with others. Drink questionable drinks with writers. Share hashtags on twitter. Whatever you desire can be achieved if you only attend.
Lastly, I promise you, Chris will hug you if you are there.