‘It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness,’

These lines from ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ by Charles Dickens are the perfect description of my
recent experience at a weekend conference.

The Best:

I’ve mentioned the Romantic Novelists’ Association and their conference on here before. It is a fantastic weekend for a new writer like me. Imagine the excitement of going there to meet and mingle with other romantic novelists, to attend workshops about the genre and to meet one or two agents and editors who have been willing to read a chapter of my book. Imagine the anticipation of meeting up with writing friends and having late night chats over wine and dressing up for a gala dinner on Saturday night. I was looking forward to it all and never gave a thought to what could go wrong.  Why would I? The conference itself went without a hitch. The accommodation, the food, the sessions were all superb but the weekend was a real trial for me.

The Worst.

On Friday afternoon, I knew I wasn’t quite myself. I couldn’t sit through a full workshop or enjoy the food. I arrived in Shropshire just at the same time as a tummy bug arrived with
a determination to destroy my weekend.

The wine after dinner left me feeling queasy – I couldn’t finish my first glass – unheard of! I left the kitchen party early to take to my room and, in particular, the bathroom.  A small mercy was that they now have individual bathrooms in student halls! I tossed and turned in bed and hoped the bout of D and S would be over by morning.    …No way!

Wisdom:

This shows how keen I am on gleaning all the knowledge that I can about writing.  I sat near the door of every session and sipped water only leaving when a cold sweat warned me that I’d better head back to my room for another discomfort break. I won’t be any more
graphic; it was a nightmare.

Foolishness:

At the end of the Saturday sessions, we had an hour to get to our rooms, dress up and go to the gala dinner. I’d put my feet up, shower and put on a bravely made up face and get there for the fun! I got to my room relishing the idea of a lie down with a loo near at hand. No key? No pencil case holding key? No key!

A dash back to the main building and to every room I’d been in that afternoon was to no avail. What could I do?Nobody was about for a lost property enquiry.

Security! The security men weren’t in their office. Expletives pounded round my head and I blinked back a tear or two. I wanted to be in my room!

I couldn’t reach security on my mobile and then, thankfully, I saw an emergency intercom on the security room door. I pressed. I got 999. No, I told the  operator it wasn’t quite a 999 moment, I just wanted a security guard. She wasn’t convinced at first. Please don’t
send police sirens or the fire brigade I prayed. I pressed a second buzzer, it was brave of me to try but I had no other options left.

Relief! A security man answered and he would come to my rescue in a minute or two. I waited and waited and then he appeared. (For the record, he was mid-20s, tall, tanned and handsome with compelling blue eyes. He was very well spoken, sympathetic and altogether charming. Ideal hero material for a novel.) However, he had no keys for the accommodation, he  explained. No keys? No keys!

He went to find someone who might be able to help. I was standing in reception in my daywear as the first party people arrived in fantastic dresses, shoes and suits. My
friends were frantically texting me but I couldn’t move until security hero returned.

He came back to say that they had no spare  key, he’d have to break in and then I’d have
to move my stuff to another room. I nodded and followed him like a lost soul. It had been brilliant sunshine all day  but now it was raining and my hair was going to
get wet and curl. What else could go wrong?

The Best:

We got to my room and he tried the handle. It opened! Inside the room was my pencil case and the key. A kind soul had found my key in the pencil case and, while I was running around and getting nowhere, they had come to my room, unlocked it and left me a note.

The Worst:

Was all well that ended well? I’d like to say I got changed, made it to dinner and the rest of the weekend was great. I did get changed, I did make it to dinner but I had to leave for another evening in  my bathroom just before dessert. The picture below shows that I did try to be a happy soul!

One consolation, on Sunday, several others were looking queasy and
clammy and rather white. Several others were sipping water. The parties that
had gone on until dawn had given lots of people very similar symptoms to my
tummy bug.

The Very Best:

Two editors liked the first chapter of my book. I have sent more on to one of them. I got to see lots of twitter friends.I didn’t pass my bug on to any of my family. I really enjoyed feeling well enough to go straight on to a flight to Slovenia. There is the RNA conference 2015 to look forward to!