|Photo taken by SCBWI Team Blog|
For those of you who don't know, SCBWI is pronounced "Skehbwee."
Kidding. Do not go to this conference and be all "I'm so proud to be a member of Skehbwee." Trust me. I did that my first year, and I made no friends.
SCBWI stands for Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators. I know, I know, we can all think of a million easier acronyms. But... there you go. I've said it so many times now that Kid B's middle name is Esseebeedoubleyouwhy.
I don't even know why I'm talking about the conference, because the most exciting thing happened on the way home from L.A.
To preface this story, you should know that I have a really hard time approaching people I admire. For instance, if I see an author in the hotel lobby, and I loved their book, I will turn in the opposite direction and run to Canada. Unless I'm in Canada. Then I will run to Peru.
Some would say this inability to function would interfere with a publishing career. Sometimes it does. For instance, there was the time I saw my agent across the lobby, scanning the lobby for me, and instead of approaching him, I texted him. I thought this was an appropriate course of action, until a friend said, "Why are you hiding behind that pillar texting someone who is mere yards away from you?"
And that was my agent. (My agent, Michael, doesn't know this story. Welcome to my neuroses, Michael.)
|This is Michael. Intimidating, isn't he?|
On Monday afternoon, I was at the LAX airport waiting for my flight home, when I noticed someone sitting across from me. I did a double take, and realized it was the most recent winner of the Bachelorette, Jef Holm.
|Emily and Jef, looking a little homely for my taste.|
And people responded, Get a picture!
So I got a picture! And here it is:
If you'll notice, I held my phone up from behind the book I was reading (which was an ARC of Lindsey Leavitt's GOING VINTAGE, which is so good that it took me a good twenty minutes to even notice Jef.)
I texted this picture to friends. And friends were all, No! You have to get a picture with him! You will regret it for life if you don't!
So, I thought to myself, This time, I will not be the coward who is taking pictures from behind a book!
Before I could chicken out, I put my phone in camera mode, and shoved it into the belly of the girl sitting next to me, and commanded, "Take my picture! Take it with me, and that guy." (points at Jef)
Now, from her point of view, we had been sitting there in silence for half an hour, with Jef across from us, and then all of a sudden, I accost her and demand that she take my picture with some strange guy. Not only that, but she's from Australia, so she has NO CLUE who Jef is.
But I sprang from my seat and said, "Follow me, beeyatch!" (Okay, I didn't add that last word.)
I walked up to Jef and said, "Can I have a picture with you?" Then, for good measure, I added, "My nieces will just die."
Now, this was a lie. I do have a lot of nieces, but I couldn't think of a single one who watched the Bachelorette.
So... behold the picture proof of the giant leap forward for my cowardice:
This picture was the second attempt by my foreign friend. Here was her first:
|I like to think that if Jef and I spontaneously decided to run away together, this is what it would look like.|
My friend, who is obsessed with Jef, called me immediately after I texted her the picture. She was all, "What was it like? How tall was he? What did he smell like? How did his waist feel?"
And I was standing in line right behind Jef trying to board the plane, speaking softly into my phone, describing how the person in front of me smelled like soap and lavender and his waist was not squishy. Please say that he couldn't hear me. Please.
What do you think, bloggerville? Do you know who Jef is? Even if you don't, are you impressed by my gumption?