{"id":5647,"date":"2025-07-24T12:12:10","date_gmt":"2025-07-24T11:12:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/uniofglos.blog\/creativewriting\/?p=5647"},"modified":"2025-07-24T12:12:11","modified_gmt":"2025-07-24T11:12:11","slug":"my-first-academic-writing-conference","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/uniofglos.blog\/creativewriting\/2025\/07\/24\/my-first-academic-writing-conference\/","title":{"rendered":"My First Academic Writing Conference"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

By Felix Chatwin, 2nd year student of BA Creative Writing<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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This month, I attended a writing event at University College London, thanks to a generous sponsorship from my university (shoutout to UOG!). It was my first-ever academic conference, and I had absolutely no idea what to expect. In this post, I want to share what I got up to, what surprised me, and why events like this matter way more than I ever expected.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If you\u2019re a student wondering whether things like this are \u201cfor you,\u201d or if the word conference<\/em> makes you want to hide behind your coursework, this post is for you.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/a>Pre-Conference Panic Mode<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

At first, I\u2019ll admit, I almost didn\u2019t apply. I wasn\u2019t sure I\u2019d fit in. The phrase academic conference in London<\/em> conjured up images of intimidatingly smart people in suits, clutching clipboards, pens to lips, muttering words like ostensibly<\/em> while referencing obscure data.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This was so far from the case.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fast-forward to me, sleep-deprived on the Victoria Line, holding what felt like a mortgage-priced latte, heading to the event and wondering if I\u2019d made a huge mistake. But as soon as I arrived, those fears melted away. Everyone was welcoming, easy to talk to, and most importantly, passionate about writing. We all had that one core thing in common.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The space felt like it was made for people like me. Curious, excited, still figuring it out. Instead of overthinking whether people would like me, I focused on just being there. I stepped outside my comfort zone, threw myself into conversations, and let my enthusiasm take the wheel. It paid off in every way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/a>What Actually Happens at These Things?<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

The conference ran across two full days and included panels, keynote talks, breakout sessions, and plenty of time to mingle and chat with other writers. It wasn\u2019t rigid or intimidating. It felt more like a creative retreat with a bit of structure and a lot of caffeine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The talks were wildly varied and totally eye-opening. One explored genre-bending and how playing with form can lead to unexpected, beautiful creations. Another featured a lawyer\/writer who discussed the theatricality of legal language, how courtroom procedures resemble performances, and how writing can act as a kind of emotional or intellectual manipulation. In the best, most powerful sense.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We also heard from an ex-model turned writer who opened up about his sexuality, transformation, and self-expression through writing. Another speaker explored cultural identity and perspective, and how lived experience becomes a lens through which we create.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then there was Liam Bell, a standout for me, who gave a deeply grounding talk on rejection in the creative arts. He offered both practical strategies and emotional support. As someone still building my confidence, it felt like he was saying, you\u2019re not alone and you\u2019ve got this. Bring on rejection!<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

These perspectives, many from people with backgrounds completely different from mine, challenged me in the best way. I realised how often I stick to safe creative preferences, even when I think I\u2019m branching out. This conference cracked me open in all the right ways.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/a>Connection, Confidence and Casual Magic<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Outside the panels, during the evening I had conversations with people who just understand. You know the feeling, when you don\u2019t have to explain why writing matters or how it feels to stare down a blank page at 2am. I made a few new friends, listened to other people\u2019s journeys, what drives them, what challenges they\u2019ve faced. In a world that often feels bleak, this was a reminder to keep going. Not just as a writer, but as a person.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/a>What I Took Away<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

This conference gave me so much more than writing advice. It gave me confidence, perspective, and a sense of creative grounding. Even though I\u2019m still learning and finding my voice, I know now that I do have a place in the arts. That alone is worth everything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It even sparked a little idea. What if, one day, I\u2019m the one giving a talk. The one making someone else feel seen, which as a person who is more introverted is quite shocking to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On a practical level, I travelled alone, managed my time, and proved to myself that I can do things that make my hands tingle and actually enjoy them. Pushing yourself into the unfamiliar is how we grow and expand our comfort zones. I\u2019m proud of myself for doing it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/a>For Students Thinking About Going<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Here are a few things I\u2019d recommend to anyone attending their first writing conference:<\/p>\n\n\n\n