Showing posts with label AWP. Show all posts
Showing posts with label AWP. Show all posts
Sunday, March 01, 2020
It's Coming - AWP #20 blogging
The annual AWP writers conference is coming at us with the speed of an asteroid. The annual event brings together writers of all genres from across the U.S. and beyond.
AWP #20 will occur in San Antonio, starting on Wednesday the 4th. I can confirm that I have already experienced a bit of the typical anxiety associated with the pilgrimage. Each year there are generally 12,000 or more in attendance. If I recall correctly there were like 14,000 last year in Portland.
I have somewhat introvert tendencies, although at times I may break free of the chains. As long as I am able to retreat and recharge from time to time, I can deal with it. For me the stressor are being away from home, being in the midst of a crushing mob (slight exaggeration), meeting people I am in awe of and being fearful I appear to be a complete goofball, and meeting complete strangers and feeling. my first impression (and lasting one) totally sucked. It is my hope to report/blog from the conference maybe a couple of times a day.
WHY EVEN GO? Good question. I think it has to be personal for each attendee. For some it is seeing friends that you may see only once or twice a year. Or it could be meeting publishers. Crisscrossing the book fair (always enormous) in search of bargains, newly published material, author signings, or readings. Both onsite and offsite. It could be learning more about the craft at panel presentations, or ideas, learning about marketing or working with publishers, agents, etc.
This year, I am focusing on a couple aspects of craft. Seeing some friends, attending some readings and doing a reading myself. I want to springboard from the conference into a greater energy in my writing. I have a manuscript I am trying to finish and this could help push me over the finish line.
I always make a list of those I hope to see. Some for the first time. Some friends I'd like to hang out with for a bit. It's a challenge to see how many of these people I can catch up with given because everyone has their own schedule and we often become like ships passing in the night.
THE THING THAT IS DIFFERENT THIS YEAR:
There is something looming overhead as we head to San Antonio. So much talk of the coronavirus has added a new level of anxiety. So many questions about how ready we are for an outbreak in the U.S. have created a legitimate concern. I am impressed with AWP leadership for tracking the CDC daily and reporting on efforts to proactively implement ways to make the conference as safe as possible.
AWP has been tweeting messages like this- Fewer handshakes, more smiles, louder greetings, thoughtful nods! At #AWP20, we’re in close communication with the conference center & City of San Antonio, & watching news fm CDC closely. We’re increasing hand sanitizing units and will have Lysol wipes in every meeting room.
I have a reasonable level of confidence that all will go well, but this is in large part because I believe the leadership of the conference is doing what it can to protect us all. I have way more confidence in their leadership on this than I do the federal government.
Anyway, I am busy getting ready this weekend. Hopeful San Antonio will be a great conference. I am a veteran of 4 previous conferences - this will make 5.
Tuesday, March 20, 2018
Confession Tuesday - Hanging Tight Edition
Dear Reader:
It's been another week with a sore knee, but less limping, a string of dreary overcast days, several with rain, a visit to an Alpaca show, and a week since my last confession.
I'm still in a coming off AWP mode. What that is like is a mixture of highs and lows. I confess that one of the things that happen, is I tend to proactively think about things more outside the box. Something all artists should be doing a pretty much all the time. I become more aware of it at odd times like I'm driving to the office and things are turning on in front of me like lights bulbs. It's a more, why can't this be a certain way as opposed to how you would normally view it. It has been a springboard for some things that I am in the process of trying. But the other thing that happens is that I start that time frenzy all over. The one I've battled most of my life. Like I have a clock ticking against everything I want to do or achieve. This, I dread. This is a battle that is real.
We went with our grandchildren to an Alpaca show this past weekend and I confess I like Lamas more than I do Alpacas. I confess that their faces do not look trusting. Go figure.
I confess that I feel like I am trying to come down with a cold or something more serious. I have had a flu shot, but there was that year I had a shot and got it anyway. I'm going to continue my routine of trying to deny it, but the nose, throat, combination stuff is not cooperating.
Thanks to AWP I confess that I have a ton of reading to do. This is not a bad thing.
I confess that I am reading a poet who is new to me Anne Barngrover. I like what I am reading so far. Maybe it's the way that Missouri keeps creeping into some of her poems. I'm sure it's more than that, but the Missouri stuff doesn't hurt.
I hesitate to bring this up, but if I do not say something here I fear my head will explode. Good lord, how has Donald Trump survived? I seriously believe he is the biggest moron in the whole world. NEVER do I wake up in the morning with a good feeling about where this country is going. Each month he gets worse. He cannot sustain this presidency. I only hope that we survive his tenure and that he is gone sooner than later.
Until next time, hang tight!
It's been another week with a sore knee, but less limping, a string of dreary overcast days, several with rain, a visit to an Alpaca show, and a week since my last confession.
I'm still in a coming off AWP mode. What that is like is a mixture of highs and lows. I confess that one of the things that happen, is I tend to proactively think about things more outside the box. Something all artists should be doing a pretty much all the time. I become more aware of it at odd times like I'm driving to the office and things are turning on in front of me like lights bulbs. It's a more, why can't this be a certain way as opposed to how you would normally view it. It has been a springboard for some things that I am in the process of trying. But the other thing that happens is that I start that time frenzy all over. The one I've battled most of my life. Like I have a clock ticking against everything I want to do or achieve. This, I dread. This is a battle that is real.
We went with our grandchildren to an Alpaca show this past weekend and I confess I like Lamas more than I do Alpacas. I confess that their faces do not look trusting. Go figure.
I confess that I feel like I am trying to come down with a cold or something more serious. I have had a flu shot, but there was that year I had a shot and got it anyway. I'm going to continue my routine of trying to deny it, but the nose, throat, combination stuff is not cooperating.
Thanks to AWP I confess that I have a ton of reading to do. This is not a bad thing.
I confess that I am reading a poet who is new to me Anne Barngrover. I like what I am reading so far. Maybe it's the way that Missouri keeps creeping into some of her poems. I'm sure it's more than that, but the Missouri stuff doesn't hurt.
I hesitate to bring this up, but if I do not say something here I fear my head will explode. Good lord, how has Donald Trump survived? I seriously believe he is the biggest moron in the whole world. NEVER do I wake up in the morning with a good feeling about where this country is going. Each month he gets worse. He cannot sustain this presidency. I only hope that we survive his tenure and that he is gone sooner than later.
Until next time, hang tight!
Tuesday, May 16, 2017
Confession Tuesday - Poetry Contest - Goals - and Trump in Orange Jumpsuit Edition
Dear Reader:
I've entered one poetry contest, sent out 4 poems, all new (meaning they have never been submitted anywhere else before), concluded Module 6 in the Spring Writer 2 Writer program, and there has been a whole lot of shit happening in Washington since my last confession.
Follow me to the confessional....
Reader, I'm tired. moving does that to you. I'm in cramped quarters and started over putting together a writing studio again. I miss my old one. I miss everything about our home. Contractor is doing stuff there now but it's empty and I confess it looks like it is lonely too. Do you think houses have emotions?
I missed last weeks confession Tuesday because life was happening. A lot of life has been happening lately and it seems to get in the way. Still, I've tried hard to get some focused writing time in over the weekend. Worked on one new poem in particular for many hours over Saturday night and Sunday. I confess that it felt good when I included it in the contest material that I sent out.
I don't enter a lot of contests but this one particular one I've done maybe 3 or 4 times. I think this makes 4. It is sponsored by a Journal that I especially like and it is often featuring other writers I especially enjoy reading.
In an email exchange this past week with my mentor Ken Waldman, we talked about goals, both short term and long term. We have agreed to touch base around the first of January to see how the short term goals are going. I confess that I am really grateful for the opportunity that has been afforded me by AWP in the form of the Writer 2 Writer mentoring program. And as for Ken, I cannot thank him enough.
I hate to take a downward turn now but I confess that I am appalled at the behavior of President Trump. I confess that I always had concerns about him being fit for the office but I have to say that his behaviors are embarrassing and he is clueless. His ethics are non existent. He is the most childish person of adult age I have ever seen. He lacks to capacity to be truthful. He has the attention span of flea and has put our nation and democracy at risk in so many ways. He has now obstructed justice and in spite of any finding that collusion with Russia goes as high as him, he is now a candidate for impeachment for trying to derail the investigation by the various law enforcement and national security agencies that are investigating the Russia and Trump campaign connection. I confess that I believe we all will be better off when this man leaves the White House and his many business annexes and enters prison in an orange jumpsuit.
That's it for now... I beg your absolution for going political.
Tuesday, April 04, 2017
Confession Tuesday- 30 Poems-30 Days Edition
Dear Reader:
Hear I am once again at the confessional. It's been almost 2 regular season Giant's games, 2 Baumgarner homers, 4 day of April and 4 poems, one W2W mentee skpye conference chat, The start of module 4, 7 more days of an embarrassing president, and a week since my last confession.
Reader, I'm 4 days into April and I'm doing it! Four poems, 4 days! Tonight, I worked late to finish but alas I am ready for tomorrow. I confess today I wrote without a prompt. Some days I want a prompt and some days I am just resistant to any prompt I find. I don't know why, just is.
I confess that I am elated that Kansas City approved a bond issue for a new animal shelter tonight. It is so overloaded. While it's sad that only about 10% voted, I'm proud of those who did for supporting it since it required a super-majority to pass.
I am this week dealing with some real real personal crisis and I confess that one minute it's had to do things and others not so much. Still I confess that I know on any given moment the emotions will be back and darkness crashes down on me.
I have started module 4 of the Writers 2 Writers program this week and the focus is on rewriting. I ended up feeling better at the end of Module 3 and I am anxious and hopeful about this module.
I confess that I am still in awe of Marie Howe's Magdalene. What a collection of poems. What a book!
Don't ask me why, but I have been craving a Hamm's beer the last couple of days. I don't drink much beer these days. I'm more of a wine drinker and I don't do that much of it either. I can tell you the last time I had a Hamm's Beer was in Minneapolis at the AWP Conference in 2015.
That's it for this week... Be Safe - Write or at least Read Poetry.
Hear I am once again at the confessional. It's been almost 2 regular season Giant's games, 2 Baumgarner homers, 4 day of April and 4 poems, one W2W mentee skpye conference chat, The start of module 4, 7 more days of an embarrassing president, and a week since my last confession.
Reader, I'm 4 days into April and I'm doing it! Four poems, 4 days! Tonight, I worked late to finish but alas I am ready for tomorrow. I confess today I wrote without a prompt. Some days I want a prompt and some days I am just resistant to any prompt I find. I don't know why, just is.
I confess that I am elated that Kansas City approved a bond issue for a new animal shelter tonight. It is so overloaded. While it's sad that only about 10% voted, I'm proud of those who did for supporting it since it required a super-majority to pass.
I am this week dealing with some real real personal crisis and I confess that one minute it's had to do things and others not so much. Still I confess that I know on any given moment the emotions will be back and darkness crashes down on me.
I have started module 4 of the Writers 2 Writers program this week and the focus is on rewriting. I ended up feeling better at the end of Module 3 and I am anxious and hopeful about this module.
I confess that I am still in awe of Marie Howe's Magdalene. What a collection of poems. What a book!
Don't ask me why, but I have been craving a Hamm's beer the last couple of days. I don't drink much beer these days. I'm more of a wine drinker and I don't do that much of it either. I can tell you the last time I had a Hamm's Beer was in Minneapolis at the AWP Conference in 2015.
That's it for this week... Be Safe - Write or at least Read Poetry.
Tuesday, March 21, 2017
Confession Tuesday - Corrosive Thought
Dear Reader:
It's been a couple more Trump campaign links to Russia, a whole bunch of March Hoops, Two contacts with my mentor, a shitload of writing and maybe two promising drafts and one week since my last confession.
For some reason the word cohesiveness came to me this week. I confess it was like it came out of nowhere and slapped me in the back of the head. So obviously I had it's full attention at this point.
I thought about what it's like to be corrosive. I pictured a metal platform being eaten away by corrosive elements much the same way an old car will develop rust spots often called car cancer. Then I thought why a platform and I realized I was standing on it. Something clicked in my head and I decided this is what was holding me up... the platform. And to my dismay it was crumbling under me.
Sometimes I question my personal compass. Am I pointed the right direction? Now my fear was, am I standing where I shouldn't be? Am I not on a good platform or foundation for where I hope to be going?
I've written a lot this past week. I've not liked most of what I've written, and that is okay because that is going to happen. But I do get tired of it when this stretches on for some weeks (which periodically happens) and it has a way of making me second guess things. I confess that as the Writer 2 Writer module moves to # 3 where we focus on craft, I think maybe I am supposed to be having these self doubts and asking myself questions. Well, I confess it will give me a reason to talk craft with Ken.
On an uplifting note, one day this week I got a book and went out onto the deck and took in the springlike weather with a nice breeze. I read a while and then just listened to the birds and watched the trees in the breeze with their buds coming out. On another, in early evening looking out westward I observed the sky as a mirage of the painted desert. I confess life can amaze me even when I'm on the cusp of falling through my platform.
My best to each till next time...
Tuesday, March 22, 2016
Confession Tuesday - Lent and AWP Attended and Not Attending
Dear Reader:
It's been three published poems, untold new drafts, numerous presidential primary late nights, one vote for Hillary, another step towards normalization of relations with Cuba, too many people and groups insulted by Donald Trump to count, even more Trump lies, and roughly one month since my last confession.
If you care to join me,.... to the Confessional.
I confess that while it is Lent, and while I am Catholic, I have hardly been a good Lenten Catholic. That is to say that I have not really zeroed in on the real purpose of Lent this year and I am truly feeling guilty about it. But hey, isn't guilt what we Catholics are all about? I've given up nothing (unless you count giving up something for Lent). I have not been especially reflective (except to reflect on my failed Lent) though I can say that I have on many occasions tried to approach the season with a smile extended to others and go out of my way at times to be helpful where nothing was expected of me. I suppose that note worthy in my reflection. Perhaps in this remaining period of time till Easter I can make some positive faith directed efforts.
Tonight, as I sat down to do this confession I have a giant headache going on upstairs. I've taken some aspirin in hopes of lessening the pounding going on. I think it may be starting to subside.
About this time a year ago I had come of a trip to AWP15 in Minneapolis. It was my first such trip to the conference and I came home with a mixture of emotion. I was both tired and energized. I was overwhelmed and overjoyed. I had a great time, I learned a great deal, I met a few people I only knew through social media. I met some of my favorite poets. I missed a few I wanted to see. It was an incredible experience. I came home with many new books, I was exposed to journals that were new to me. Collected some cool swag, and great memories.
As much as I would like to go to this years conference (just over a week away) I confess that I will be right here at home. Presently I am starting to feel a let down of sorts; knowing that so much will be going on and I will not be a part of it is not only disappointing but depressing as well. Some people I missed last year are going this year and I won't be able to see them. There will be no neat swag to croon over. None of the kick-ass buttons, And most of all, I will not be able to fret over choosing between 112 panels that I want to see that conflict with others I want to see.
I can half-way joke about some of this today. but I know that as it gets closer to the start of AWP16, and the tweets and Facebook activity starts, it will be impossible to ignore what I am missing.
We all mostly write in a void. For all the negatives associated with Facebook and Twitter (or any social media) they unite us in some context and bring us together as does the AWP conference. So it will be impossible to ignore what I am missing - even as I am missing it.
Till next time, may the Muse be with you!
It's been three published poems, untold new drafts, numerous presidential primary late nights, one vote for Hillary, another step towards normalization of relations with Cuba, too many people and groups insulted by Donald Trump to count, even more Trump lies, and roughly one month since my last confession.
If you care to join me,.... to the Confessional.
I confess that while it is Lent, and while I am Catholic, I have hardly been a good Lenten Catholic. That is to say that I have not really zeroed in on the real purpose of Lent this year and I am truly feeling guilty about it. But hey, isn't guilt what we Catholics are all about? I've given up nothing (unless you count giving up something for Lent). I have not been especially reflective (except to reflect on my failed Lent) though I can say that I have on many occasions tried to approach the season with a smile extended to others and go out of my way at times to be helpful where nothing was expected of me. I suppose that note worthy in my reflection. Perhaps in this remaining period of time till Easter I can make some positive faith directed efforts.
Tonight, as I sat down to do this confession I have a giant headache going on upstairs. I've taken some aspirin in hopes of lessening the pounding going on. I think it may be starting to subside.
About this time a year ago I had come of a trip to AWP15 in Minneapolis. It was my first such trip to the conference and I came home with a mixture of emotion. I was both tired and energized. I was overwhelmed and overjoyed. I had a great time, I learned a great deal, I met a few people I only knew through social media. I met some of my favorite poets. I missed a few I wanted to see. It was an incredible experience. I came home with many new books, I was exposed to journals that were new to me. Collected some cool swag, and great memories.
As much as I would like to go to this years conference (just over a week away) I confess that I will be right here at home. Presently I am starting to feel a let down of sorts; knowing that so much will be going on and I will not be a part of it is not only disappointing but depressing as well. Some people I missed last year are going this year and I won't be able to see them. There will be no neat swag to croon over. None of the kick-ass buttons, And most of all, I will not be able to fret over choosing between 112 panels that I want to see that conflict with others I want to see.
I can half-way joke about some of this today. but I know that as it gets closer to the start of AWP16, and the tweets and Facebook activity starts, it will be impossible to ignore what I am missing.
We all mostly write in a void. For all the negatives associated with Facebook and Twitter (or any social media) they unite us in some context and bring us together as does the AWP conference. So it will be impossible to ignore what I am missing - even as I am missing it.
Till next time, may the Muse be with you!
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Confession Tuesday - Post AWP Edition
Bless Me Reader For I Have AWPed::
It's been several weeks since my last confession, but let me focus on this past week.
It's been 7 days away from my office, two Delta plane flights, over 700 presses, literary journals and writing organizations, over 550 readings, panels and craft lectures, too much coffee and Diet Coke to count, notes and writing and more writing, faces I'd never seen, faces I wanted to meet for the first time and faces I didn't get to meet. A week of much more walking then I would have done in a week of judicious tread mill sessions, a swim, a hot tub, more tweets than a hundred birds could do and little rest.
This was my first time at AWP. Yes, I confess I was a newbie. It was also my first time in Minneapolis and St Paul (St Paul is another story).
I has a whole host of (good intention) warnings abut the event. I read any number of online articles geared for first timers in the weeks leading up to the event. I also had direct conversations with a hand full of veteran attendees. The overwhelming theme that I capt hearing and reading was that it was in fact overwhelming. Intimidating and draining were also words that I heard. Still, no one ever suggested it wasn't wort it. I would say that all the forgoing statements were true,
I confess that I was overwhelmed before I left. How do you whittle down all the possible panel presentations none of which are repeated without sacrificing numerous ones you want and or should be at? My schedule was shifting sand right up to the presentation in some cases. I will give my wife credit for helping me ask myself questions to narrow the list somewhat. It was nice that Cathy too enough interest to engage in conversation about the options. She often has an ability to look at such things without as much emotion and ask good questions that can affirm one of your selections or in the alternative provide a significant rational to accept an alternative.
It was overcast on our decent into Minneapolis and I was on an isle seat anyway. But I confess I only ever saw one lake in the state that boasts of Ten Thousand Lakes. I know, what are the odds?
While it was my first time in Minneapolis, it was also my first time in St Paul. I confess that I deboarded the blue line and caught a green line light rail and road to it's stop. This mysteriously placed me in St Paul. I was certain of my mental notes that I had done what I was to do, but alas I confess that the embarrassing mistake delayed my arrival at my hotel by a couple of hours. No that I think about it, this means I was actually twice in Minneapolis.I got on the second train where I should have made my departure for my hotel only six blocks away. I will give the city kudos for their public transportation. The light rail is efficient (if you know what you are doing) and affordable. It intigrates well with their bus service as well.
THE EVENT ITSELF .
The event is both draining and inspiring. If you were to several panels back to back, there was not much time to do much but a quick restroom break and hustle to the next panel.
Here are some of the panels I attended:
- Thank you for the Surgery
- Confronting our fears and turning Adversity into Art
- The Pink Tuxedos
- Intimate Communities: How to Form and Keep a Writing Group that Works
- Old Friends Who've Never Met and Some Poems
- The Best New Poets: A 10th Anniversary Reading
- A Room of One's Own, Plus Others:Writers Shared Spaces and Communities
- The Sentence and the Line. A Journey Meaning Makes
- James Wright in Minneapolis
- Melancholy and the Literary Uses of Sadness
- A Tribute to Jane Kenyon
- I Am Me as You Are We - Exploring Pronouns in Experimental Poetry
- Echos of Displacement; Sound in Poetries of Diaspora
A Surprise: I was taken pleasantly by surprise to learn from a couple of presenters that they had taken different routes in their writing path than a MFA. I confess that this was actually a liberating experience. Understand if I had my life to do over (there is that catchy no do-overs thing) I would have likely considered another path that would have involved an MFA. At my age this is not really a practicality. But is was freeing in a way to see these people participating and seemingly positive signs that they did not let such things stand in their way of writing and achieving success.
COOL PEOPLE I MET
author of A Sunny Place with Adequate Water
This makes a third book by Mary Biddinger that I own.
She is actually holding up Barn Owl Review - which I meant to pick up a copy of and will now have to order.
On the right I am pictured with poet Jessica Smith. Jessica and I both share a passion for birds. I am anxious to delve into her most recent book Life Lists which forms the backdrop for this work.
Pictured on the left is Eduardo Corral and Sandra Beasley who both read at a 10th Annual reading of the Best New Poets anthology. They were two of the four readers. All four were especially worthy of their selection for this. I've read Beasley's blog for years but had never met her until this reading. She has a compelling voice that is fresh and flourishing. You want to read more of her work upon the moment she is finished reading.
I also was excited to meet Nin Andrews and pick up a copy of her new collection Why God is a Woman
DISAPPOINTMENTS
I confess the event was not without disappointments . One of the biggest was missing the opportunity to meet Carolyn Forche and get a signed copy of one of her books. I did not realize that her book signing was not a part of the scheduled book signings that were associated with the book table set up in the lobby area. My mistake was further complicated by people at the tables giving me two different days and times for here and as those times approached I was told something different. Finally I realized that she signed at a table inside the book fair and the time had passed, thus I was never able to connect. Carolyn is a favorite of mine and it would have been a big deal to have met her and gotten a signed book.
After the fact disappointments - local poet Maryfrances Wagner and I each realized after returning home we had both been there and could have a lunch or a glass of wine together.
I also realized yesterday the Andrea Beltran was there - again after the fact.
There were a number of poets from the Northwest Pacific area that I would love to have met, skipped this years event. All of who I consider magical writers who are doing something very right But life goes on.
LAST RITES
As the last rites are administered to AWP15 let me add a few closing thoughts.
- If you were from Minneapolis and out and about town after hours but may have appeared that a zombie apocalypse was occurring as there were writers walking every street with their eyes looking totally zoned out. And yes they were writers not Minnesotans - as evidenced by their name tags on lanyards and or AWP tote bags.
- I cannot judge the WiFi against past conferences but it was spotty at best. I have no idea how many tweets were hung up in the tweetmosphere because the sender walked ten steps while tweeting.
- AWP is not going to make me a superior writer, but it has given me another window to look through. It has made me physically tired, but alas it has infused me with a charged mental attitude and a lot of new directional thinking.
- There is no substitute for being immersed in and among remarkable writers and exceptional poetry. Also, bringing home lots of books and journals to feed the reading experience. And I believe poets at al levels have a need to read.
- I was glad to see and connect with advocacy groups for the arts and VIDA.
- So many poets in boots. Just had to throw that out there. Is this the replacement for the beret?
- And last, I was taken by the number of mothers with children, infants. I know taxing the conference was to me. I can hardly imagine the balancing act these women had to preform. I applaud their commitment to writing. And yet I know for every one that was there with child there were untold numbers who wanted to be but it didn't work for them. I'm thinking out loud here but I wonder if there has ever been consideration to child care options for the event? Maybe this has been explored. If not, it should be looked at. And surely dads and other family members, can offer a more supportive to young mothers.
- I do what to give a shout out to my wife looked out for me from afar.She was concerned that I would forget to eat or something. I just know she was always concerned about it. Breakfast at my hotel was pretty awesome. The first day I shot a picture of my platter and messaged it to her to ease here mind. Afterwords, I realized I should have done like kidnappers and put the front page of the morning paper in the picture so the date was prominently displayed.
My mind is still in overdrive. Hopefully it will slow a bit and my energy level increase to where they are working in tandem soon.
Amen~
I have poems to write!
.
Tuesday, March 05, 2013
Confession Tuesday
It's Tuesday and I'm moving slowly to the confessional because it's been the kind of day and evening where I'm not to certain it's good to put too much stock in my forward motion. But I'm here so let's get started.
Dear Reader:
I confess that there have been a couple nights this past week where I've come home and pretty much blown off the evening. This is easy to do if I've had a particularly crazy day at work. Actually today would be a good example. A day when you are just beaten down with work and after a full day of it feel you have not made any headway against your work load. It's days like that I come home - do the minimal I need to do, then crash and burn. Don't like it when I'm like this - looking to break from this, find a way to slowly unwind and then do something productive.
For several years now I have observed the annual anticipation of, the hoop-la and the afterglow of AWP. I must insert for the record that the observation has all been from afar. I've not been to AWP. I've seen people rave about the contact with other writers that they might not have met otherwise. They talk about great panel discussions, swoon over treasure troves of books and of course there are the readings. Occasionally I have read blog posts or Facebook post from those who start by indicating they are not going to AWP this year and then in some silly and demeaning way poke fun at the conformance. I confess I have chuckled as I have read through some of these pieces, yet I wonder if the writer is not really just using humor to mask disappointment for not being there. I confess that I'm intrigued by what I have heard of the conformance and
yes a bit jealous of those attending.
I confess the return of sunlight after all our snow has been uplifting. I confess that we still have mountains of snow and that the sunlight on it is blinding, but I was going blind from the abundance of white everywhere anyway.
I confess that I'm ready for Spring.
Amen.
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
Revisiting AWP
Given my Tuesday Confession post, I laughed my ass off reading Jeannine Hall Gailey's blog post for Tuesday. The post titled How to Survive Not Going to AWP DC.
Just to get a taste of her post:
Go read the whole post for a good laugh. Thanks Jeannine, I feel better already~
Just to get a taste of her post:
"Throw some dirty snow on yourself. Maybe roll around in it. Stand outside in whatever inclement weather your neighborhood provides. Make sure you’re carrying something heavy, like a bag full of books."
Go read the whole post for a good laugh. Thanks Jeannine, I feel better already~
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