The Pacific Northwest Writer's Conference.

In a couple weeks, I am going to Seattle, where I will be attending the Pacific Northwest Writer's Conference, which is put on by the Pacific Northwest Writer's Association every year.



Now, some of you have heard about this already, but just bear with me.



When my mom signed us up for the conference, she called to confirm some details. She was told that somebody would call her back.



So, a few days later, she got a call from the PNWA. She began talking to this lady about the conference, but the conversation soon turned to my family. My mom told her about our family's history, and her plans to write my grandparents' story (an incredible story that you should definitely ask me about if you don't already know) and that I wanted to be a writer.
The woman on the other end of the conversation said that she was getting goosebumps and was really excited that we were coming, and that she definitely wanted to meet us.
So my mom asked who she was, so that we could find her when we got there. And the woman, as nonchalant as ever, said, "Oh, I'm the president. I'll just be walking around."
The lady who is so excited to meet my family is the freaking president of the Pacific Northwest Writer's Association.

And she's setting up appointments for me with an editor and agent.

I think I nearly threw up when my mom called me and told me the news.

And so now, I'm writing away, furiously trying to put something together worth presenting to somebody who probably eats lunch with Dan Brown and Nora Roberts on a weekly basis.

It's a little unreal, and I'm not entirely sure yet that I'm not actually dreaming. But there you go.