What I love about AWP:
That I get to see so many friends. Particularly those I’ve come to know through days of workshops and nights of revelry.
That I hear amazing writers, particularly those who know how to read their work with passion.
That books surround. So many, beautiful books. That this can exist in the world is uplifting.
That I stay up past my bedtime because the conversations are worth the exhaustion.
That running into brilliant writers is an hourly occurrence.
That not knowing my plans in the morning no way precludes me from having a wonderful day.
That it’s just assumed we’ll all come home with more books than we can read in a year.
That my friends are my tribe. We beat drums and we dance. And there’s always plenty of beer.
What I dislike about AWP:
That it’s in cold cities, in cold parts of the year.
That the hotel bar is forever understaffed.
That the information guide is unwieldy and unindexed.
That by Saturday, too many people just glance at your nametag and then treat you according to your perceived status.
That status is even perceived. We’re writers, y’all. The best of us toil anonymously for years. How could we know if we’re in the presence of greatness if that greatness is still unpublished?
That the airline always charges me extra for the weight of the books I buy.
That I can’t see more of you, more often.