How attending events can inform your writing & build community
If you had asked me five years ago to list off the biggest eating disorder conferences, I wouldn’t have been able to name a single one. I didn’t even know such conferences existed until I started doing reporting for my forthcoming memoir, SLIP.
The first time I attended one, in 2023, I admittedly felt out of place. It was a conference that convenes experts who are at the forefront of eating disorder research, and I was one of the few attendees who was neither a clinician nor a researcher.
As an author and woman who has lived experience with anorexia, my goal was to familiarize myself with the latest eating disorder research and to develop a deeper understanding of the evolution of treatment. I also planned to make connections and interview researchers (whom I had set up meetings with ahead of time).
I went into the event hardly knowing anyone and came away with something unexpected: a newfound sense of belonging. Within a few days, I had found my way into a community of people who care about advancing public understanding of eating disorders and raising awareness through advocacy and research. Over time, I began to see how I fit into this larger community and how my writing could contribute to its collective body of work.
In the two years since then, I’ve attended six eating disorders conferences (four in person and two online). Just last week, I delivered a talk at one — the Multi-Service Eating Disorders Association’s annual conference, which attracted about 450 doctors, nurses, psychologists, social workers, dietitians, and other health care providers who focus on the treatment of people with eating disorders.
My talk — “Inclusive Healing: Exploring ‘the Middle Place’ of Eating Disorder Recovery” — was directly related to the reporting I did for my book and was aimed at helping clinicians better understand the grey area that so many people find themselves in when they’re no longer sick but not fully recovered.
The talk felt especially meaningful because the Multi-Service Eating Disorders Association (formerly the Massachusetts Eating Disorders Association) provided resources to me and my father when I was getting treated for anorexia at Boston Children’s Hospital in the late 1990s. At the time, it was a small, local organization that had only been around for three years. Seeing how much MEDA has grown since then, and delivering a talk at its national conference, felt like a true full-circle moment.
Going into my talk, I anticipated the types of pushback I might get: You’re promoting quasi-recovery; you’re suggesting people should just settle; you’re saying full recovery isn’t possible; etc. I created my presentation with this potential pushback in mind. I also drew upon research and specific passages from my book to support my argument and to show that the middle place isn’t about quasi-recovery or settling for stagnancy; it’s about always aiming for “more” recovery and giving yourself grace when you slip along the way. The very word slip suggests some sort of movement; you can't slip, after all, if you’re standing still.
It turns out that there wasn’t any pushback at all. The 50 or so people who attended were incredibly receptive and seemed to recognize that we need to do a better job supporting, rather than stigmatizing, those who live in the middle place. Attendees also asked thoughtful questions about how to integrate the middle place framework into their own practices.
There were some familiar faces in the audience, including two psychologists who I interviewed for the book, a psychologist and dietitian who treated me when I was a teenager, and my father. My father rarely gets to see me deliver talks, but given our shared history with MEDA and the fact that he lives near the conference location, it only made sense for him to attend.
I gave him a shoutout at the beginning of my talk and also shared a fun fact: his high school prom (in 1972) took place at the same hotel where the conference was held. I loved knowing that Dad was there with me and for me, as he’s always been. (The audience seemed to love him too!)
As I delivered my talk and connected with other conference attendees, I kept thinking about those of you who subscribe to this newsletter and want to write a memoir. These days, it’s hard to get a book deal for a literary memoir if you’re not famous and don’t have a big platform. You have a better chance of getting a book deal if you pursue what the publishing industry is increasingly referring to as “memoir plus” — memoir plus reportage, for instance, or memoir plus a social history of a topic, or memoir plus investigation.
Figure out what your “plus” is — the part of your book that will expand its scope beyond your own story. For me, that “plus” was reporting, which included a lot of interviews and events. If your memoir tackles grief, look into grief-related events or webinars that you can attend. If your memoir is related to pregnancy, consider which events could put you in front of your intended audience and expand your understanding of the topic.
So often, we think about attending or speaking at events after a book is published; but events can be an incredibly important tool while you’re writing your book. It can also help to mention events in your book proposal as a way of showing publishers that you are invested in the topic and working to build connections with experts who you hope will turn into loyal readers.
The more you immerse yourself in the topic you’re writing about, and the more involved you are with the communities that care about this topic, the stronger your writing and the bigger your audience will be. Showing up — with genuine curiosity and a desire to acquire and share knowledge — will help build your credibility. Ultimately, you could end up getting invited to speak at some of these events, not just as a lived experience expert but as a subject matter one as well.
Later this month, I’ll be delivering a poster session at the Academy for Eating Disorders’ International Conference on Eating Disorders — the same one I attended in 2023, back when I felt like an outsider. At the time, I thought I knew so much about eating disorders based on my lived experience, and the truth is, I did know a lot. But most of my knowledge stemmed from my own story. Reporting on the topic and attending related events expanded my scope of understanding in ways I never imagined. And I think (I hope!) the book is that much better because of it.
I realize that events can be cost-prohibitive and time-consuming and therefore aren’t a viable option for everyone. To pay for travel and conference fees, I used funds from my book advance and a writing/reporting grant I received. In the next week or two, I’ll share tips on how to find and apply for writing-related grants. If you have questions you’d like me to address in that post, please feel free to share them in the comments section.
Fun side note: Goodreads is offering a giveaway of SLIP. You can sign up here to win a free early copy from now until May 12! (Or you can pre-order here, if that’s preferable.)
