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A cold driving rain fell as I Am A Massage Therapist No Worries I Got Your Back Shirt Adam Thompson’s Uber pulled up to the front of a gothic brick hotel on the outskirts of Austin. Located well outside of the downtown area, the twenty-story building was the only break in the sky for miles around. It seemed out of place here, perhaps a relic held over from an older downtown area that was razed and allowed to return to nature, the hotel the only holdover of a bygone era.

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The wipers flicked back and forth on A Massage Therapist No Worries I Got Your Back Shirt the windshield in time with the song on the radio. Adam recognized it as the Spanish version of Hotel California. Not Adam’s choice, but when asked his music preference for the thirty-minute ride to his hotel he simply shrugged. It didn’t matter. It was just the first day of the conference, but Adam knew he was blowing it. After a day of going to panels of his favorite writers, surrounded by managers, agents, and filmmakers, the people he came here to network with

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He pulled one from A Massage Therapist No Worries I Got Your Back Shirt his pocket. Emblazoned on the front in a shiny impact font was his name: Adam Thompson – Screenwriter. He even paid an extra ten bucks for a hundred additional cards, all packed tightly away in his suitcase in the trunk of the car. He let out a heavy sigh as his mind chewed over his underwhelming day like a cold piece of saltwater taffy. “A goddamn semifinalist, invited to all of the top-level meet and greets. Yet you can’t work up the nerve to even introduce yourself to one person. Not one. Total waste of time and money. You’re not a screenwriter.