Warm Winter at the San Miguel Writers’ Conference By Dhana Musil

reading at the 2013 SMWCI had the most wonderful fortune of being awarded a scholarship to attend the San Miguel de Allende Writers’ Conference last month.  It was the first time in 16 years I’d traveled abroad without children in tow. The anticipation was extreme– a combination of counting down the sleeps and– maybe I shouldn’t go? From the initial contact I had with Nathan Feuerberg regarding registration details, and Dorit Arazi, the conference treasurer who invited me to stay in her beautiful home during the conference, I felt buoyed and supported. They answered my queries about what to bring clothing-wise, where to find yoga classes and how to book the shuttle from the airport.

The Baijo-go shuttle deposited me safely to the front door of my gorgeous Caracol home; I was greeted by Dorit, shown to my room and woke up to a full itinerary the next morning! The first thing I did was attend the historical San Miguel de Allende walking tour with Naomi, the lovely New York writer, who also stayed at the house with me. Both of us starved for sunshine sat directly in its rays during the tour, which was also attended by Canadian writer Lawrence Hill, and agent Jeff Klein. As the prickle of sunburn reminded us of our winter skin, we left the tour early and walked back to Conference headquarters, the Hotel Real de Minas. A beautiful buffet lunch awaited us, as well as hundreds of attendees from around the globe, and the efficient registration frontline.  Each attendee was given their own packet full of information, a personalized class itinerary and the mandatory name tag.

The locale couldn’t be better suited for a writers’ conference. With a large airy indoor/outdoor lobby, poolside access, indoor meeting rooms and expansive outdoor area out back, it offers something for everyone. Most of the classes and the bookstore/artisan market were held outdoors in white tents, which, coming from a grey northern winter, was heavenly; I was able to feel the grass with my bare feet, yet still concentrate on class.

The most delicious part of the geographical set-up, one which I didn’t indulge in enough, was the abundance of soft wool blanket and fluffy white pillow stations situated all around the gardens, beside the lagoon, water fountains and trampoline. But wait–there’s more. The outdoor bar. I’m not a big drinker, but to lounge on those blankets, with a just-purchased-freshly-signed-book-in-hand, with a waiter serving fresh juice to my reclined self? Need I say more?

Cheryl Strayed
Cheryl Strayed

The auditorium was packed for Cheryl Strayed, who was keynote speaker that first night, (which also happened to be Valentine’s Day); there must have been nearly 300 people in attendance. I was so excited to be there, seated between Naomi and Melody, a Washington DC based writer– the two gals who became my wing women for the week.

Strayed was the main reason I so yearned to attend this year;  I’ve been reading her Dear Sugar Column since its inception, and use Wild, her bestseller, as a guide on sentence length for my own memoir. Thankfully each keynote talk was recorded and available to purchase because even with copious note-taking, it was almost impossible to capture the essence of the 90 minute talks. They need to be listened to repeatedly. I found this especially true with Luis Alberto Urrea’s talk, which verged on theatre performance. I was so entranced by his onstage presence that there was no way I could look down to take notes.

I attended all my classes for the first three days. Brooke Warner’s class on outline was invaluable to me, but I found gems in every class I attended: Yvonne Daley’s class on Place, Dinty Moore’s class on Voice, Amy Ferris, Hollye Dexter, Suzanne Brown Levine on the Womens Panel, the list of fabulous presenters goes on.

Clearly, there were a few hiccups here and there, (as one would expect at any event of such proportion) but the only ones I experienced were minor: one class had didn’t have enough handouts, the other was truly comical–the poetry class in the tent across from us got boisterous and drowned out our instructors voice. All in all, minor.

The days flew by, jammed with classes to take, writers to listen to, open mics to read at, panel discussions, dinner excursions, networking, and sightseeing.  I had two pitch sessions scheduled, one with Andy Ross and one with April Eberhardt. Both pitches went wonderfully, which I attribute to the agents being open and enthusiastic about my project, and to the fact that the pitches were held outdoors in the tents. Plus, at 15 minutes per pitch it felt like a visit rather than an elevator pitch session. Another bonus was that the agents, and the entire faculty, milled about the grounds, enthusiastic and attainable.

Legendary Fiesta 2013
SMWC Legendary Fiesta 2013

San Miguel, for me, truly was a writer’s conference, as opposed to a writing conference. There were so many interesting people to connect with and things to experience, that the few times I actually sequestered myself to write, I ended up taking a nap.  I did talk to writers who had quite a different experience. They used the week to lay low, take in few classes and keynote speakers, and didn’t attend any of the social functions.

By the last day, my body declared mutiny and I didn’t make it to the conference until the afternoon. I felt guilty missing my morning classes, but I sat on my balcony overlooking the city and transposed all the notes I’d taken during panel discussions and classes into word documents–then headed down for the final goodbye party under the stars.

My tips:

-Don’t think you have to do it all. Take in what you can and don’t feel guilty if you don’t do it all.

-Exchange contact information with people you connect with right away. There’s so much going on you may not see them again. (That happened to me with one woman in particular.)

-Bring pesos. I was told I could use my debit card, to withdraw funds, (which most people could) but for some reason mine didn’t work. Thank goodness I had some US cash.

-Stay hydrated. San Miguel lies at quite an altitude.

-Beware of handsome Australians refilling your Mescal cup at the Fiesta. It goes down easier than you know.

Dhana MusilDhana Musil is currently at writing “These Little Earthquakes,” a glimpse into the ten years she spent in Japan’s criminal underbelly.  She lives in Vancouver BC with her children and husband. She  hopes her stories will land her somewhere warm and sunny: Malibu, Maui or San Miguel de Allende would do just fine.  Dhana can be found at www.Dhana.ca.

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