I’ll be headed to my first writers conference in seven days.

I am attending the DFW Writers Conference.

7 Days.

I’m a little freaked out.

I need a zen place.

I am not ready. I am so not ready.

I don’t know what clothes to wear. Do I have to get my nails done? I think it’s been fifteen years since I’ve had my nails done. My book proposal is a mess, and don’t even get me started on my manuscript.

Everything is unfinished.

It’s all a good start. But I’m terrified it’s not enough.

I am woefully inadequate, and the odds are not in my favor.

Everyone assures me that conferences are worth it. I pray they’re all right.

And I’m going to pitch anyway.

I’m going to try anyway. I would be murdering a dreamer if I don’t.

My goal press for July 24-26, 2015: Anaiah Press Surge

Statistically, this time will fail. That has to be okay. I have to be okay with failing. The half gallon of ice cream is already waiting for me in the freezer, and I’ve already picked the next goal: #PitchWars on Twitter August 17, 2015.

Onward.