(I love that song. Complete 80s cheese.) Tomorrow is the day. The first day of my first writing conference. The day I will read aloud a few pages of Human Dignity to Teresa Nielsen Hayden. The day I will try to scrub off the word "Newbie" from my forehead at every possible chance I get. My nervousness is a tangible thing, has been for most of this week. Logically, I know how silly that is. This is a great opportunity to learn about my craft. But there's some ego-driven corner of my mind that's still loudly insisting I'm going to walk away from this weekend with a contract for ten books and the world's best agent to represent me. And it's making me nervous. Like if I don't walk away with said contract and agent then I'm an utter, miserable failure of a writer who would never be capable of writing anything beyond a list of ingredients on a cereal box. I hate that ego-driven corner of my brain. I wish it would shut up.