Results are in . . .

I am back from the Storymakers conference in Salt Lake City and the results are in--100% of voters swore on a stack of King James Holy Bibles that the diva heels were sported by Annie Valentine.

PSYCH! It's Melanie J. squeezing her pretty little pedicured toes into those heelios.

I personally got a kick out of watching all the glam authors teeter-tottering around the Sheraton from class to class in their spikey heels, but apparently it comes with the territory--publishing gives you blisters.

It also give you fans.

Check out Melanie J. signing The List for an excited fan! (First photographic evidence of Melanie J. wearing her author glasses. btw. You're welcome.)

And here's Becca Wilhite signing her Bright Blue Miracle.

(FTR, Not everyone wore 9 inch stilettos and wedges. DeNae wore white tennis shoes around the conference. But then DeNae is such a non-conformist.)

Sadly, these are the only three pics I took at the actual conference because I couldn't get my flash to pop--I'm afraid my camera is on it's last leg. But the conference was awesome. Even better than last year.

Please come next year! That's an order, peeps! It's a partay! The kind of partay where you kick it with old friends and new friends, while simultaneously getting smashed. Which is to say, completely intoxicated. With information. From editors, agents and authors.

I wrote furious notes. Plus I did my first pitch session with a publisher. I wasn't even nervous because my twins are both pitchers, and that can't come from strangers, right? In fact my twins helped prepare me by giving me pointers and lending me their top-o-the-line baseball mitts. I went in totally confident.

The way a pitch session works is that you go into a clean, well-lighted hotel room where an editor is sitting in a chair by a large window. You have 10 minutes to take the mound and wind up. Then I guess you pitch the ball and see if the editor can catch it.

Only my editor didn't bring a mitt. I had to lend her one of mine, and she just stared at it as if she had never seen a mitt before. (Writer people are so hip-to-be-square.)

I was like "What?"

And she was like "What?"

And I was like "WHAT?"

"You're supposed to pitch a BOOK," she said.

Is it just me, or is that weird? To wind up and chuck a book at an editor? In a hotel room?

So I pulled out all my kid's tournament trophies and medals and described each one of them to the editor. She said she loved them all, but that they are inundated with trophies and medals this year so it might take a few years to get them published.

Speaking of tournaments, between my three sons, guess how many games my hub had to attend while I was at the conference! Guess! guess! guess!

Are you sitting down?

TWELVE!

And guess what else? He didn't get me a hamburger for Mother's Day either. (Do I have to meet all of my own hamburger needs?) Instead he gave me a dozen roses and a new camera, plus he cleaned the house and made me a ginormous breakfast.

Hmph!