I know I don’t have to but I will remind you anyway because Derek told me I had to – CMEpalooza abstracts are due on Monday (that’s Feb. 1). The portal closes at midnight. Yes, there is actually a ceremony with court jesters and trumpeteers. This year, we’ve gone all out to hire a special guest celebrity to formally “close the portal.” You’ll have to show up at the secret location to find out who is it and what he/she is going to be wearing. I’m betting on something by Balenciaga.

But that’s not really what this post is about. It’s about tying things that bug me to something related to CMEpalooza. So here goes:

1. “If everyone in this room gave $20, we’d far exceed our goal.” This is such a cliched guilt trip for donations. You know what, if the rich guy in the corner gave $20,000, no one else would have to give a cent, you’d meet your goal, and I’d be happy. On that note, if every single person reading this post submitted a CMEpalooza abstract on Monday, we’d have at least, I figure, 5 or 6 abstracts. So get cracking, Sparky.
2. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I blocking your view?” Yes, Mom of the Year candidate, I understand that you got here 30 minutes early to get a front row seat and you feel the need to stand up during today’s production so that the angle of your phone is perfect to capture Little Anna’s moment of glory. BUT I CAN’T FRIGGING SEE! So either you sit your butt down right now or you get an elbow to the back of your head. Your choice. On that note, I’ll save everyone reading this post a front row seat at both our Spring and Fall events. See? Everybody wins with CMEpalooza!
3. “Wait, it’s due today? I don’t remember seeing an email about that.” I’m sorry, perhaps I should have put a flier in the mail and stapled it to your forehead. You got not 1, not 2, and not even 3 reminders about the deadline (that would make 4 reminders, I suppose). The deadline is today. No extensions. I know you’re busy. As my dad would say, “Tough.” On that note, we don’t play games like some other meetings where the deadline isn’t really a deadline and year after year there are “special circumstances” that warrant an extension. You really only have until midnight on Monday (that’s February 1) to go to the Presenter portal and submit your abstract.

End of rant. Continue with your day.

Hey, guess what? It’s my birthday today.

You know what you can get me for my birthday? That’s right — you can submit an abstract for CMEpalooza Spring today instead of waiting for the last day like everyone else.

Or you can wait for the last day like everyone else.

I guess it doesn’t matter.

Just remember that abstracts for both regular presentations and for the Pecha Kucha-type session are due by the end of the day on Monday, February 1. The next morning (that would be Tuesday, February 2), we’ll open things up for public voting on the submitted sessions.

Submissions are slowly rolling in, and we spoke to lots of folks who said they were working on something (you know who you are), so we’re hoping to at least match last year’s mark of 30 submissions. Only six days to go!

(If you don’t want to give me an abstract submission for my birthday, I’d also like The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins, a new watch, and a 1983 powder blue Mike Schmidt jersey from Mitchell & Ness. It’s glorious.)

 

 

Not long after we opened up the abstract submission process for CMEpalooza Spring, the questions started pouring in:

1. “What are you guys looking for in an abstract?”
2. “Do I need to have a bunch of co-presenters?”
3. “Is it better to propose a 30-minute session or a 60-minute session?”
4. “Do you take bribes?”

The first three questions were all accompanied by the same well-reasoned, pithy response – “I dunno” (as for the last one, of course we accept bribes, as long as you expect nothing in return).

But really, I don’t have a ton of astute guidance to give on the abstract submission process. It’s not like we have any more influence than anyone else specific to the selection process – when the morning of Feb. 2 dawns, all of the abstracts that are submitted through our online portal will be posted on our website and the public voting will begin. You get people who are interested in the description of your session and vote for it, you are in. You don’t, you aren’t. This ain’t magic, people.

But since I hate to let down our adoring public, I did a quick analysis of successful abstracts from last year to determine some patterns/trends and offer some advice. Writing a good CMEpalooza abstract is a little bit different than submitting an abstract to a faceless group from a conference committee. You need something that is going to read well and sell others on your session.

For what it’s worth, here are some ideas that may or may not be helpful:

1. Be creative. Come up with a catchy title, find a unique way to describe what you plan to cover, make fun of Derek. Any of those can work.
2. Funny is good. Make someone laugh and they’ll read your abstract twice.
3. Don’t overdo it with details. I know it can be hard to summarize your idea in 50 or even 100 words, but people don’t want to read Jane Eyre here.
4. Spelling and grammar count. If you call your session, “Incorporating Patience Into Your CME,” I will make fun of you.
5. Think about what you’d like to learn about. Remember that it’s an audience of your colleagues that will be doing the voting. What interests you probably interests them as well.

That’s about the gist of it. As you watch the snow fall this weekend, give some thought to how you want to describe your proposed session.

Oh, and I like cash (Derek asked for old t-shirts from your neighborhood 5K 3 years ago. He takes a large).