I went to my first writing conference ever last week, the PNWA conference. The whole writing group was supposed to go (all three of us) but my two partners chickened out. Actually, they had really good excuses for why they couldn’t go, but I had already paid my registration fee. After some mishaps about parking—the hotel wasn’t prepared for so many people driving their own cars—I settled in for my first workshop. What I was expecting from this conference was a bunch of already established writers looking down their nose at us plebs that were trying to get an agent …