Belated Harper’s Ferry Report

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Last weekend I went out to (gorgeous, gorgeous) Harper’s Ferry (where we had nothing but tremendously fine weather, as you can see to the left) for the annual Washington Romance Writer’s Retreat. So. Much. Fun. It’s a lovely, intimate conference, and probably one of the most well-run and information-packed mini-conferences I’ve ever attended. Because all attendees are WRW members, there is a kind of camaraderie and informality to this conference that is truly unique.

The conference is held every year in Historic Hilltop House, a tiny, quaint, and cozy hotel that has the best views in all of Harper’s Ferry. Here is Michelle Buonfiglio from Romance B(u)y the Book and Romance by the Blog and I enjoying the view:

Michelle is such a doll! We first met at RWA Nationals last summer. She evenremembered my little brother, who came with me to my agent’s party. (Which reminds me, I still need to send him her regards.) We got to hang out a lot at the retreat, talk more about the recent Princeton U. visitors to her blog, and I was there when Michelle made her amazing announcement. Congrats, chica! I also found out that my single contribution to film theory: Alan Rickman Makes Everything Better has somehow found a life of its own amongst her blog visitors as “Everything is Better With Alan Rickman,” which is a slightly different argument, but still… How cool is that?

Aside from the view, Hilltop House is mostly famous for its “historic charm” by which they mean small rooms, hundred year old mattresses, no amenities like hair dryers, clocks, TV sets, or irons, very little hot water… and ghosts. I had heard so much about these ghosts that I basically didn’t sleep the first night. Every time I heard a noise or sensed movement in the room (like, say, my roommate getting up to go to the bathroom) I completely freaked out and jolted awake. Here’s a picture of our room, taken from the door. My bed (the one with all my crap on it) was pressed up to the radiator. I actually didn’t think it was very bad. I’ve stayed in MUCH smaller rooms in boutique hotels in New York City (right, Colleen?) and this one was a hell of a lot cheaper!

The bathroom, on the other hand… Note Amanda displaying its size, at right. Yes, the door was that narrow, and she has her hands splayed to show how wide the space was. Her back is against the wall, and the (tiny) (tilted) sink. Seriously, the sink was set at a good 20 degrees off the horizontal. Fortunately, the toilet flushed at least half the time.

But I certainly don’t go to conferences for the hotel rooms, and remember, you’re talking to the girl who lived in a tent in Australia for a couple of months. (Our tent was not haunted, FYI.) We didn’t spend much time in the rooms, and when we were there, it was wrapped up in the blankets we’d brought from home, wondering how to make the radiator work without burning down my bed. Most of the conference was spent at the workshops and of course, at the bar.

The workshops were all held in this gorgeous sunroom overlooking the gorge and the river. Luckily, they were all amazing, so I was never tempted to do much woolgathering. I went to a workshop on last-ditch revisions, with Kathleen Gilles Seidel (she gives the best workshops!), an “American Idol” style first page review with Kate Duffy (Kensington), Jennifer Enderlin (St. Martins), and Tracy Farrell (HQN), a book-doctor workshop with the incomparable Lisa Gardner (I think this is the workshop I learned the most from at the conference), a talk on “whining” by Nora Roberts, and a published author breakout session which was, as Leslie Kelly pointed out earlier this week, truly humbling. The keynote speakers were Julia Quinn, Madeleine Hunter, and Lisa Gardner.

I also played a cut-throat game of Apples to Apples in the lobby with these writers (left), went on a Harper’s Ferry Ghost Tour with Amanda Brice and Janet Mullaney/Jane Lockwood (which meant I missed a WRW Jeopardy game where I was a clue — oops), hung out at the bar with so many historical writers: Diane Gaston/Diane Perkins, Sophia Nash, Kathryn Caskie, and Michelle Willingham, and didn’t get any sleep the second night because Amanda and I stayed up until all hours talking about secret societies and frats and how they differ.

Our final day in Harper’s Ferry, there was a humongous raffle drawing of what seemed like a million prize baskets (Linda Morelli and Kathy Caskie won most of them, oddly enough ::vbg::) and then, the grand prize drawing: registration for next year’s conference. My roommie, Amanda Brice, had bought one raffle ticket for this drawing, as a lark — and she won!

After her victory, Amanda, Knight Agent Elaine Spencer, and I went wandering around town, enjoying the gorgeous spring weather and soaking up the history and a little of the frozen custard that Harper’s Ferry had to offer.

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