Yesterday concluded the Small Press Center’s 2nd Annual New York Round Table Writers’ Conference.

This two-day conference is a chance for writers to come hear editors, agents, publicists, marketers, and of course authors talk about the writing craft and the writing business. This particular author attended Day 2.

I started an actual blow-by-blow account of my day at the conference, but it was LONG. So here instead, Letterman-style, are the Top 10 Things I Learned at the 2nd Annual New York Round Table Writers’ Conference:

10) The title of the conference is hard to remember. The New York Writers’ Roundtable? The Writers of New York Roundtable? Thank God for copy and paste.

9) Hearing something you already know from a reliable souce is still inspiring. The first session I attended was Write Now: Author Q&A. While I didn’t really learn anything new, it was inspiring to hear certain points reiterated, like how to generate ideas and that not every idea is a good idea; forcing yourself to write every day, even if just for an hour, whether or not you feel inspired; and the importance of revision.

8) Sigrid Nunez rocks. One of the panelists at the above session. All of the panelists were good, but Ms. Nunez in particular. Plus she’s a sistah. I’m totally gonna start reading her books.

7) One-on-one time is very valuable. A new component to the conference this year. Whatcha do is: 1) submit your stuff; 2) pay $50; and 3) talk to an agent specifically about your work.

This was probably the most valuable part of the whole conference to me because we were able to talk at some length at my level and I was able to get some great tips and advice. Plus I got to use one of my “Doris Night, Writer” cards.

6) If you go to one of these things, bring business cards. Yes, you may feel like a tool. Yes, you may never give one out. But you never know.

5) “Midtown doesn’t know what it’s doing.” At least according to Joanna Yas, one of the panelists on Small But Mighty: Literary Presses. Something I didn’t know is that a lot of the big publishing houses are actually part of conglomerates. The big example is Bertelsmann, who owns Random House, which is made up of Ballantine, Bantam Dell, Crown, Doubleday, and Knopf, among others.

As a result, some say, midtown publishing is this oversized, overworked, unweildy monster that rejects tons of quality work and gives very little attention to the authors it does decide to take on. So where does an unknown literary author go? Why, to independent presses of course.

This isn’t to say that independent presses publish everything midtown rejects. Of course they accept only quality work and usually only literary prose and poetry. So don’t be sending that self-help book to a place like Open City or Undie Press.

4) Mario Bosquez is very funny. Yes, that Mario Bosquez. In addition to being funny and a news reporter on CBS, he’s also a playwright and the author of The Chalupa Rules (chalupa as in the Mexican bingo game, not the Taco Bell chihuahua-shilled concoction). His advice to overcoming stage fright when giving a presentation? Take a stand-up comedy class.

3) The lady in the cowboy hat will be annoying. And not just a cowboy hat, a white cowboy hat with rhinestones. One of the panelists at Here to Career: Publishing Jobs, she brag brag bragged all about herself. “I worked for Norman Mailer. . . .He used to interview me all the time. . . .I’m an established writer, I paid my dues. . .When I was an Oprah. . .” This helps me how?

And her advice on why you should go into publishing if you want to be a writer? “Because you need something else to write about besides writing.” Hunh? So, writers who aren’t in publishing only write about writing? Being in publishing instead will expand my horizons? Hunh?

2) The guy in the rumpled suit with the thick-as-tar Bronx accent will rule. While cowboy hat lady was annoying, C.J. Sullivan was freakin cool. A staff writer for the New York Post, Sullivan also has fiction that’s appeared in, among others, Akashic Press’ Brooklyn Noir and Manhattan Noir. Having grown up in the skerry Bronx, Sullivan sniffed bullshit in James Frey’s A Million Little Pieces almost immediately.

“I lived on Fordham Road,” he said. “I knew guys like that.” Apparently Frey wasn’t like any of them.

1) Writers are freaks. Of course not all writers are freaks, but you get a whole bunch of them in a small space and you’re bound to unearth some weirdos. For example:

1a) Hemorrhoid Butt Pillow Lady. Have butt pillow, will travel. Yes, those chairs were uncomfortable but you really have let go of all social qualms to actually tote that ass cushion around. And what’s with the birkenstocks and velvet harem pants? Twenty cc’s of What Not to Wear, stat!

1b) Clearing Throat Total Recall Lady. For Celebrity I Resemble in her personals ad, she could put, “Fat lady Arnold Schwarzenegger pretends to be in Total Recall.” For Why You Should Get to Know Me: “Because I clear my throat really loudly every 10 to 12 minutes in a room that has excellent acoustics.” Annoying is sexy; annoyingly loud fat fuck is sexier.

1c) Smoky White Sock Lady. What’s that fragrance? Rancid cigarette smoke? It must be Smoky White Sock Lady just come back from a smoke in her white socks and black dress shoes. Stylin’.

1d) Giant Fanny Pack Lady. Every time she sat down, it was a Jerry Bruckheimer-scale production with unbuckling and removing said gigantour fanny pack. And every time she got up, it was the summer blockbusting sequel.

1e) Briefcase/Headphone/Track Jacket Guy. So much weirdness in one person, I can barely handle it. Exhibit A: the humungous briefcase that Willy Loman would have found unweildly. What was in there? The lost ark? Marsellus Wallace’s soul? Or, more likely, the Great American Novel, all 5,000 pages? Dude, ever hear of CDs? Email?

Exhibit B: the ’80s style headphones clapped to his head and the Walkman strapped to his arm. What was he listening to? “I am a good writer, I am a good writer, I am a good writer.” And, last not but least, Exhibit C: the blue Adidas track jacket. I’m all for trackwear, but not with a button-up shirt and corduroy pants. Now you don’t look hip. You just look retarded.

Next year’s conference will April 20 and 21. Will I go again? Maybe not, but oh, so much material.

James Frey I’m not. You can’t make this shit up.