And so the story begins

What really did happen at the 2002 convention?

A stillness surrounds the Radisson Plaza Lord Baltimore hotel as the last Writing.Com member checks-out. The banner removed from the railing is nothing more than a reminder of what once was. No longer do you see a smiling face in the main floor bar. The Versailles ballroom sits empty of Writing.Com items. A rumor confirmed - Writing.Com has left the building.

Members return to the computers that they so quickly abandoned 3 or more days prior typing in their username and password. Will Writing.Com ever be the same? Before them sits a colored case that now resembles a smile. IM's are popping up all over, but with the words read, you hear the voice, and see the facial expression, and feel the embrace of the hug.

Forum boards radically changing as members post a line or two in reference to their days spent away from the site. A series of private lines, and cryptic messages send non-attending members into a 'we gotta know' state of mind. Begging and bribery has become the centre of discussions in the revealing of the Story Master and Story Mistress' true identity.

But do the conventioneers reveal what was discovered behind the revolving doors of the Radisson. Absolutely! The stories will amaze you as each person’s interpretation leads to more details of the awesome event being disclosed. Only those readers that can visualize each word will see clearly the Story Master standing at the front of the room mic in one hand as his other is placed over his heart. He speaks words of admiration for his Mistress, his Parents, future Mother-in-law, and the 50 faces that wait anxiously for what he will say next. The Story Mistress stands at his side an equal in every way, her smile lights up the room, her laughter contagious.

And so the story begins...

“Writing.Com is going to have a convention.”
“No, really.”
“Yes, and everyone on the site is invited to attend.”
“When.”
“August 16th-18th, 2002 in Baltimore, MD.”
“That is so cool, I want to go.”
“You and everyone else.”

The details for the convention could not come quick enough for me. Having only been to one other convention in my lifetime, I just knew this would be something that I did not want to miss. Now you may be asking yourself; why so? Allow me to tell you what going to the convention was all about and what it meant to me.

As I entered through the revolving doors of the Radisson the first thing that caught my eye was a banner that extended from the mezzanine railing. It was the first sign that we were definitely in the right place. Just the thought of meeting the Story Master and Mistress was more than enough to get me to this point.

And meet them I certainly did. I even have pictures to prove it. But alas they will become a treasure for my eyes only. But picture this if you will. Standing before me a tiny woman with jet-black hair that cascades around a soft delicate face. Eyes that shine like polished marbles, and a smile so inviting your heart just melts. She stands beside a man, who is a good head and a half taller than her. His dark brown hair matches the neatly trimmed growth beneath his chin. You could not help but notice that his eyes shaped into crescent moons with each smile directed your way. Their voices encouraging and soothing greeted you personally, with a welcome to the convention, and thank you so much for coming.

A woman lurks in the background with an off-white canvas bag. Recognized immediately as the Story Mistress’ mother Catwoman. At this time you are presented with your Survival Guide for the weekend. A most impressive pocket book, that includes all you need to know. As you float away from the registration table with a bag full of goodies, you know that the weekend fun has just begun and can only get better. There is no time to check inside the bag to see what treasures are included, for you are instantly greeted by member after member all coming to see who has just arrived.

I found most members had ended up in the bar area, so they could sit, relax and get to know each other. Survival guides were being passed about giving everyone a chance to write something below their bio that appears in the book. The time passes quickly as you meet your on-line friends. The chat gets a little complicated, and suddenly you miss a voice or two. Not at all like clicking back a couple posts to catch up on the latest conversation. Multi-tasking takes on a new face as you try to remember which conversation you are in and to whom you are talking too.

An announcement is made, and all head up a staircase to the Versailles Ballroom where dinner will be served. Inside tables that seat 10 persons await, a full course buffet stands off to the side. At each place setting was a gift handcrafted by Story Mistress. A ceramic pot filled with candy and flowers, ours to keep and add to our goodie bag. In the centre of the table stood a disposable camera. This became a memory builder as we were all asked to at anytime take pictures of anything and everything during our weekend. A formal introduction is placed on hold so that you can eat while everything is hot. During dessert Story Master stands at the front of the room mic in hand momentarily speechless with so much to say.

With the introduction of Open Mic Night members that are participating prepare themselves to bare all, and show the room the talent that cannot be typed on a screen. I am not alone in saying that Pathrhino shocked us all with his amazing rap session, while ZooDuck strummed his guitar in accompaniment. Pathrhino displayed excellent control of his words in such a fast paced method, I was amazed that not only did I understand what he was saying, but that he could talk that fast.

StJohn who joined us as a member of Writing.Com and a representative of one of the sponsors Infinity Publishing introduced us to the “buck”. To try and explain this one would required you to be a member of the audience, for only John could bring you this form of entertainment.

Then of course there was mild natured Don R. Kaczynski, who proceeded to tell us how he became a writer of children’s stories. To see and listen to this refined older gentlemen talk about the antics of his life, and past job, with a tidbit or two of his family were hysterical. In the beginning he asked for forgiveness, since he had forgotten his notes at home. If this is what he could do on the spot, can you imagine what was written in those notes? I’m sure they would have picked us all up off the floor.

Open Mic was a tremendous success with a total of 14 acts and 25 members participating. Story Master and Mistress promised that it would be a night for our members to shine, and that is exactly what they did. With the conclusion of the last act the remainder of the night became one to talk, or do things with those that you had met. While some were exhausted from their trip to the convention others were still raring to go, and toured the nightlife of Baltimore at a place called the Power Plant Bar. With the place being as huge as it was many got separated into little groups for a period of time, but all came back together at the end of the evening for the walk back to the hotel.

Morning came far to quickly, with little sleep and tons of energy the group met once again in the Versailles Ballroom for breakfast. Quite the site to see considering all were wearing their new Writing.Com convention T-shirt found inside their goodie bag. Breakfast was again a buffet style.

Plans were discussed for the day, and most were heading over to the Harbor area. On more than one occasion you would see a yellow shirt in the distance, and know that Writing.Com was in the vicinity. The day was extremely hot and humid which made for a difficult time to actually tour outside. It was then that all decided to hide in the air conditioning of what else but a bookstore. I’m sure that Barnes & Noble are still trying to figure out who all those yellow shirts were that invaded their building.

As the day came to a close everyone retired to his or her rooms to get ready for the formal dinner in the Calvert Ballroom. A cocktail reception was held on the mezzanine, which provided ample time for photos and getting autographs in your Survival guides. I had made it my personal mission to have everyone in attendance sign my book before the night was out.

This is truly a treasure that I love. Inside was a record of everything that was done for the weekend, all the great people that I got to meet, and notes that I wrote while in Baltimore. It was not till I was at home, that I read through all of what was written. With each page turned I could see the face, hear the laughter, return the smile, and feel the hug. Holding my Survival guide now is almost as close as being there with everyone.

With cocktails concluded we were summoned to the ballroom. On a table sat miniature photo frames. The frames became your seating card, and another goodie for your bag. The elegance of the room was felt as soon as you crossed the threshold. Before you stood tables for 8 members each. A camera sat in the centre of the table ready for picture taking. A bottle of bubbles placed above each plate. Off to the side in an alcove stood tables upon tables of items for the next day’s auction.

Our meal was about to be served, everyone left the view area and returned to their seats. This evening our meal was served to us, starting out with a salad, followed by a full course dinner, and concluded with a lavish dessert. With the completion of our meal the Story Master once more graced the front of the room shortly thereafter accompanied by the Story Mistress. The serving staff busily filled champagne glasses.

In a monumental toast the Story Master and Mistress thanked us for our continued support, for being a part of making Writing.Com what it has come to be as they prepare to celebrate the 2nd birthday of the site. At this time everyone raised their glass in toast and cheer to the Story Master, the Story Mistress, the site, and each other.

The awards ceremony had begun. While not in attendance Tornado Day was awarded as Biggest Financial Supporter. She took it upon herself to provide financial assistance to the scholarship fund giving to members, who would have not otherwise been able to attend. Being one of many that received a scholarship to attend this convention, I am forever grateful to Tornado Day, The Story Master and The Story Mistress for showing me that dreams can come true. No longer do I harbor a dream, for I have replaced it with a treasure book of memories.

Twenty-one handcrafted awards were given out that evening. From first 10 registered to the oldest attending member. Laughs rolled out of the crowd as a young man hunched his back lowered his voice and produced an imaginary cane to accept his award. Congrats ZooDuck, your acting talents deserved an award too.

An open invitation was made to everyone that if they would like to say a few words, that they were more than welcome to take the mic. It was emotional to hear member after member say a few words of reflection and wishes for continued success of the site. Dingo said it best, when he insisted that the Story Master and Mistress remain in their seats, as he invited the entire room to join him on the dance floor. With mic in hand he provided a summary of what the site meant to all standing there, and on everyone’s behalf thanked the two people responsible for providing us the means to express our emotions, meet fellow authors and friends, and giving us a place to call home. Next years convention note: Dingo is elected to speak for us all again, he did an outstanding job.

With the speeches concluded, it was time to dance. Our D.J. for the evening provided a selection of tunes as the wild bunch entertained us with a variety of dancing techniques. The formal was soon to come to a close, but the members were far from calling it a night. Quite a few room parties continued until well into the morning.

Lack of sleep was second nature by this point, but spirits were still extremely high. The final day of the convention had come far too soon as members lined up at the front desk to check out. It was unfortunate that not all who attended could stay for the final meal and the auction. Once again we entered the Calvert ballroom, and ate from a lavish buffet. The auction items ready to go home with the highest bidder. And oh how the bids soared. Anyone who said writers’ are poor has not been to a Writing.Com auction. All funds raised were for a great cause; 2003 Writing.Com scholarship fund.

The Story Master stood at the front of the room and started to ramble, not quite as fast as Pathrhino, but he did an amazing job. I unfortunately did not get to take home any of the wonderful items on display. Earthwoman outbid me for a hand painted dream book box that the Story Mistress had made. And she didn’t stop there either when she showed me her unlimited resource as she took the mystery egg that ZooDuck had brought. StJohn’s wife Linda outbid me for John Ashen’s Bedside Basket. And I’m not even sure anymore who took Waterbaby’s Snow Cone Machine. I believe it was at that point that I started to hit my head on the table. Next years convention note: Don’t forget Master Card Cheques at home in kitchen cupboard, cash is not enough.

Mid-way through the auction Story Master took a time-out to thank some of our sponsors and make the draws for items that had been donated. To Jerry and his wife Denise for their financial support of the site, convention, and for being great parents. And remember if you are looking for any form of office equipment contact Fax Express. Be sure to tell them the Story Master sent you and be prepared to disclose your Handle for instant recognition.

Two draws were also held. Infinity Publishing awarded a book-publishing contract to GoCartCherub, and the Writers’ Magazine awarded a year free subscription to Wrilly.

There were many splendid things brought for the auction by the members. Some items shipped to the Story Mistress from members unable to attend. To RickysGranny, Haizey, MarcieMae, Barbie Carson, and Chuckster, I say thank you for being there in spirit.

With the last item auctioned off the official 2002 Writing.Com convention had come to a close. Hugs and tearful goodbyes were exchanged with a promise to do it all again August 15th to 18th, 2003. The time spent together had given us new promise, tons of inspiration, and “live and in person” friends.

To sum up my experience at the convention, I would have to say that it was totally exhausting, extremely exhilarating. Being on-line with those that attended the convention will never be the same, for now they are truly real. My calendar has been marked, and my vacation will be booked, for come next August, I will get in my car, and drive down once again to see everyone.

"Wannabe at This Years Convention" 
"Writing.Com Conventions"