Only me...

Alrighty, so I'm back from RT and I have some stuff to share. Some stuff that I really have to say could probably only happen to a whack like me.

I don't know how stuff like this occurs, if just does, okay? LOL

So, the con itself was great in terms of seeing the fans, chatting it up with them and most of all, haning out with the other two Chief babes, Michelle Hoppe and Isabella Jordon.

As far as the food and layout of the hotel, well, it sucked a little. I had a chicken breast at one party hardy fest that had I borrowed my neighbors, I could have made a pair of flip-flops out of 'em. I don't wanna knock the effort these people put into drying that poor thing out, but someone is an over achiever.

Then the staff...we did find some good eggs. Jim and Stacey were peachy fine. We found some rotten ones too. The barmaid in the piano bar's face would simply crack and smash into smithereens if she dared smile. She had something up her booty and it wasn't BOB :) Getting her to wait on you was like asking Moses to part the Red Sea for the second time. She was cranky and witchy. not to mention, according to Michelle, a glass of HQ costs 15 fricken' bucks. Mark up, mark up, mark up.

The layout--well, it was a smidge scattered and while I'm all about putting another 50 miles on my foot-o-meter, in heels, it was just plain old hard. My feet swelled and so did my face from the humidity. Humid inside the hotel, you say, Dakota? Er, yeah. I think they were trying to save a buck. The way things were set up, you did a lot of lugging heavy things like PROMO items and books to the great unknown, when much mileage could have been saved if they'd just used ALL of the rooms clumped together. What do I know?

The cover models. Sigh. I know I'm infamous for accosting them, but this year was just well, just a sigh...some were past cover models and they tended to be professionals at what they did, if ya feel me. Some were sons of romance authors, which I found sweet. Mostly, I couldn't find them because they had NO table in the hospitality suite and half the time, I wandered actually looking for the hospitality suite. The slicker dudes didn't much interest me. They already had their moments and while they're great, they aren't hungry like the guys who've never done this, ya know? it sets a diff tone for the pageant if they want it more. I had my personal cover model with me, so maybe that explains my discontent?

Yet, we persevered. We had our own little version of party like it's 1999. We laughed our asses off all the time. Took pics, cracked up, took more pics and had lunch in other places where a burger wasn't 12 bucks. The parties just didn't hold the appeal they did last year for me. The DJ was okay, but I think he played the same song list night-to-night. Night two, I wore my street clothes. That's how disappointed I was.

yet, still it was a lot of fun. Expensive fun, but fun just the same. So Michelle, Isy and I were lamenting this fact just before the book fair, which I hadn't planned to do, but my boss at Changeling DEMANDED I show up for. LOLLOL. We were wondering if the expense was worth the discontent we'd seen so many experience this RT.

So I went to the book fair and I sat next to my boss. Selling out was easy cheesy Japaneesie, cuz I'm in an anthology with Angela Knight and all I had to do was say her name and mention it was a never before released story. BAM! Gone. 50 in like 2 hours :) I can sell ice cubes to eskimos as long as it has nothing to do with ME. I am a sucky advertisment for anything DC related.

Anyhoodles, I'm done now and off to find my honeybunny. he's called and he wants to do lunch. I've done my time, so I'm on it. I say that we need to say goodbye to my boss because I don't get to see her often and I like hanging with her.

As I venture back into the room another friend says Angela Knight is looking for me. I MUST go find her. Well, when AK calls, we all drop everything and scurry. I'm kidding. AK is the nicest woman evah, and not at all demanding or diva-like. However, she IS my friend and I'm thinking she needs water or something. Then I wonder if her hot hubby has fallen off the gofer wagon because he's usually so attentive.

So, I skip on over to my bud AK's table, cleared of all debris, cuz well, she IS Angela Knight and she grabs my hand and says "SIT. DO NOT MOVE." Dakota sits and says, "whassup?"

She tells me someone wants to meet me. I think it's like the one fan who knows who I am and they want my autograph for the book we're in together. So they can have like an almost complete sorta thing, ya know? So I ask who wants to meet me and she says Deidre Knight and I think, huh? Who? I look over to the books right in front of the chair I'm sitting in and see that indeed, it is a lovely author who has a stellar cover. One I remember admiring when I saw it somewhere that I can't quite remember. Maybe it was jaci's blog?

Anyway, I really LOVE the cover and I can't think why she'd want to talk to me? ME?

So, I ask.

And my buddy tells me she made mention of me and my genius. Well, she didn't say genius, but she did chat me up and then I think, GOD! I AM a loser. I have all these great friends who drag me along on a path I would never have found if not for their high IQ's.

but I still don't get it. So AK explains that she is also an AGENT. I think I gulped, or considered yarking, but that would have been sickly rude to do on her books. Still, I don't get it. But then, the nice Deidre shows up, smiling and her hand out telling me it's a pleasuere to meet me.

Me.

yes, ME.

I'm thinkin' holy freakin' hell. However, I maintain my thin veneer of composure and smile right back. She's waaaaay nice and so not at all like you'd expect a hot agent to be. Totally yakking with me like we'd done it a thousand times before. She asks what kinds of things I write. Okay, here's the thing with this. if you don't know me, it's got to be hard to absorb the idea that I wrote a werewolf who's found in the pound by his hairdresser heroine in Hoboken. See what I mean? it sounds utterly kooky. it IS utterly kooky. yet, the very nice Deidre thought that was a hoot.

I'm likin' her more and more. So then she says, "Got anything I can read?" So I make mention of the book I have in my hand. I'd gotten my author promo copies of Whose Bride Is She Anyway? and think, GAWD, it looks like I planned this and I swear on my sons lives, I didn't. So I say, sorta and I explain and she takes it and opens it and loves the subtitle and again I think, huh. Verrry opened minded. This is the book NY said no to because I just didn't get the hot stuff in there soon enough. it was like chick lit, ect. I figure, at least it's a good representation of my voice. I sold it to an e-pub and let it lie.

So, I've taken up enough of this nice ladies time and I really need to let her do her book sigining thang. She says she'll read my book and I tell her I'll e-mail her in a week, totally believing there was no way in hell she'd even remember me in a weeks time. But I hug the crap out of AK and say thanks for the plug and leave on my cloud. I mean, I think I floated out of there.

However, next day comes and I'm looking through Whose Bride and thinking, "Jesus effin' This is the worst drivel EVAH. That nice Deidre is going to roast weenies with this." I decide that that's okay. My career is going well and if NY isn't for me, s'alright. I'll just keep on keepin' on.

Okay, so I did have a wee sad moment where I kinda thought if only I had done this or that with the book. Then, I let it go. Rejection happens all the time and I wouldn't be smart to dwell. So, me and the honeybunny have a nice lunch and we go off to the Internet cafe in the hotel to check e-mails.

And I get an e-mail. I think it's from a fan because it's titled, "Meeting you at RT." I did have like three fans, so it wasn't like crazy unusual, right? LOLLOL

I skim to the bottom and it's from...yes, Deidre. I swear on all things author like, never in a mill did I expect to hear from her again. Then, before I read it all, I figure she's being nice and telling me I suck in a polite way. I did. It was a quick response and really, what else could it be?

Au contraire, my friends...she says that Whose Bride is utterly compelling and she and her husband fought over the shot to read it.

Yes, yes I DID have drool coming from the corner of my mouth by now because I'm near catatonic. She likes me. nay, she loved me. She said so. Honest to God. She also says she'd love to represent me. me. Dakota Cassidy. me of the wise assed remarks and snarky heroines. Me who thinks the word yummylicious should be in the dictionary. ME.

So, I tell R in utter disbelief. He smiles and says, "I knew it, Bun. how could she not love you?" I call my friend Michelle Hoppe who comes downstairs and we squeeeeee together like little piggies. I probably shouldn't be posting about it either, cuz the ink isn't dry on my contract yet. LOLLOL. I just sent it out, but I guess I can't get into too much trouble. Can I? She could change her mind, yes? OY. LMAO

So, here's my point. not just that an agent who gets my stuff likes me. Not just that this agent was as easy to talk to as your best friend. not even that it happened so easily I should be smacked for having so much good karma.

My point is this--this writing is cut throat sometimes. I've mentioned it before and I lay low for most of it, but it bugs me nonetheless. I see all sorts of jealousies and acts of random shitiness. BUT I hooked up with some way cool people who like me. Just me and think enough of me to want my success on all fronts. yes, they push and shove sometimes, but they know me well enough to know that I'd NEVER do it myself. I'm too shy about stuff like that. I know, demure, wallflower Dakota. LOLLOL

It's true. it really is. When it comes to my work, I never think I'll measure up. But my friends like Sheri (my CP editor), kate Douglas, Angela Knight, R and a host of others think I do.

obviously, they ain't ashamed to say so either. For me, I think I'm going to keep trying to ignore the petty crap that I've posted about before. it kinda means so little when you're surrounded by people who are not only successful, but want to share that success with you. Don't care if you have a piece of the pie, cuz they go and get another fork so you can split it TOGETHER.

I am blessed in the belief of my good friends. Friends I'd never ask for favors from. Friends I wish only the biggest of things for. Friends I hope someday will know I learned from their example.

This RT reminded me that I was getting cranky and that sometimes, that's okay, but mostly, it won't be what you want to look back on. You want to do what I was struggling with this past month.

You want to let the shit lie, bury it in a nice grave so you can't smell it anymore and celebrate your blessings. Every last one :)

Dakota :)