What I Didn’t Expect to Learn at DFWCon ✈️

Originally posted on My Literary Life

By Sunday night at DFWCon, I had no voice, sore feet, and a heart that felt about three sizes bigger than when I arrived.

It’s funny: every time I go to a conference, I think I know what I’m walking into: the panels, the pitches, the polite conversations over lukewarm coffee. But this weekend reminded me that real growth—as a writer, as an agent, as a human—often hides in the moments we don’t plan for.

I flew in Friday morning, bleary-eyed but excited. That’s the thing about this business: no matter how long you’ve been in it, you’re always a little nervous walking into a room full of people who love the same thing you do.

My “wrangler” for the weekend (and how fun is that title?) was Shawn M. Warner.

Yes, that Shawn Warner—the author of Leigh Howard and the Ghosts of Simmons-Pierce Manor, the viral TikTok sensation who somehow managed to stay humble, hilarious, and wildly kind through all of it.

I represent Shawn as his agent, but that weekend, he was in charge of me. I can’t tell you how surreal it is to walk into a conference and be greeted not just by someone you represent professionally, but by someone who’s become a friend. He made sure I was fed, hydrated, and didn’t miss my sessions. Basically, the perfect blend of author, assistant, and chaos manager.

That’s the thing about this industry: we talk about books, but it’s really about people. The kind who hand you coffee when you forget you’re human.

Friday night, there was a dinner for industry folks, and I finally met my agent, Amy Giuffrida of Belcastro, in person. We’ve been working together since March, and she’s been nothing but supportive.

Saturday morning, I met a surprise travel companion—a cockroach, cozily tucked between my deodorant and my toothbrush like it had paid for the hotel room. I yelped, slammed the bathroom door, and called the front desk. The poor attendant said, “No one else will be in for another half hour,” then came up herself and rescued me like a tiny-bug superhero.

That morning, I taught a rhyming picture book class, dove into pitch sessions, and then an author-illustrator sat down, portfolio trembling slightly in her hands, and within thirty seconds, I felt it: that quiet click when something just fits. Her voice. Her art. Her vision.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I said, “I’d like to represent you.”

I’ve never done that before—offered on the spot. But my gut said yes, and I’ve learned not to argue with it.

Because that’s what conferences do: they remind you that all the spreadsheets and strategies in the world can’t replace the power of instinct.

Sunday’s keynote was Kelly Bishop (yes, Emily Gilmore herself), and she was exactly what you’d hope—sharp, funny, and delightfully unfiltered. She talked about how you keep chasing what you love even when the world says to slow down.

It landed. Hard.

By the time I got home that night—voice gone, suitcase heavier—I felt full. Not because everything went perfectly (there was still, you know, the cockroach). But because the weekend reminded me of something too easily forgotten:

In publishing, the wins aren’t just the book deals or the big moments. They’re the people who hand you coffee. The mentors who show up. The gut feelings that say, this one’s worth it.

So if you’ve been waiting for a sign to say yes to something that scares you—a class, a conference, a connection—consider this it. Because sometimes the messiest beginnings lead to the best stories.

Want to attend a writing conference specifically designed for children's book creators?

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