Afterburn – Reflections on AWP 2004-2014 (and a few more pics)

I’m recovering from a head cold I picked up at AWP, eating from a bowl of grilled watermelon salsa my husband made to help kill the cold, ruminating about the good and the bad about these kinds of conferences. I have to admit that this year’s AWP was probably my favorite since my first one – when I was still starry eyed and naive, interviewing for jobs, in a Chicago hotel four blocks from the conference, carrying a way-too-heavy bag through panels and the book fair, gawking at the crowds of (gasp) 4,000. (That was a record back then. That’s right, my first AWP was a decade ago!)

I wanted to say something about the hard workers in the poetry world who don’t necessarily get the credit they deserve. They do a lot – they review books, or set up web sites, or edit. People like Brian Spears, the Rumpus’ poetry editor, and Denise Hill, who runs New Pages. Editors of micropresses like Shanna Compton and Kristy Bowen. AWP board members and volunteers. They are a lot of typically really nice people who tend to stay out of the limelight – and hey, they put their own (inimitable) work on hold to shine the light on others. And they all deserve cupcakes.

An unusual aspect of this AWP was that it was in my hometown of Seattle, so. I saw a lot of my friends out doing their thing, being successful writers and editors and such. I mean, you realize, hey, my friends are pretty impressive, really! And you can sleep in your own bed and you know where the good restaurants are already. You don’t have to ship anything home. I recommend it. And I got to see the hard-working Northwest presses – like Two Sylvias, Concrete Wolf, Minor Arcana Press – get a little bit of glow from being in the limelight. Which they deserve. The Northwest is a pretty happening place for literary stuff, in case you didn’t know. MFA versus NYC? I don’t think so. Think LA, San Francisco, Seattle, Portland – all happen to be great hospitable homes for writers. (I happen to think San Diego is pretty great for writers too – it’s where I met Jericho Brown, got to hang out with Steve Kowit, Ilya Kaminsky and Sandra Alcosser, and got drunk-serenaded by Billy Collins. I mean, it’s no slouch.) Anyway, hooray for AWP being here and in LA in two years! Finally, the West Coast is getting some writerly love.

And then something about running into writers you admire. Now, a decade since my first AWP, I may not be quite as starry-eyed, but I’m still thrilled to run into people whose work I love. I used to be too nervous to introduce myself, now I just do it. I used to worry about impressing editors and publishers. I guess I worry a little less about that now than I used to, but it is nice to see the kids (is that bad to say? They all seem so young now! But so intimidating when I went to my first AWP!) who are running the lit mags, working the tables. All these people who love the same weird stuff you do. This year, I totally missed anything negative – gossip, rudeness, one-ups-man-ship – and saw only a bunch of people with whom I share a passion. At the Thursday night reading I literally teared up, I was so happy to be with a bunch of people who loved “geeky” poetry and who excelled at it. Because that’s what AWP really should be about – getting out of your safe-writer-introvert-shell and meeting other introvert-shell-hiders with whom you have an awfully lot in common. And maybe get a drink together and talk shop, or talk about which childhood cartoons you miss, or whatever. Talk about the dreams you have in common, go out and fill the sky with hope and good wishes. When else are you going to do this?