I
fought AWP and AWP won. (AWP being the ginormous annual conference of the Association of Writers and Writing Programs.)
I
wasn't planning on it. However, early in the evening last Thursday, as snow
pelted New Jersey and much of the Northeast and Mid-Atlantic coast, unraveling on Facebook were
posts by writers from all over whose cancelled flights and
delayed trains made me wonder: might the headquarters hotel attached to the
Washington, D.C. Convention Center—the only place I would consider staying (bad knee issues), the place that has been sold out for six months—have cancelled
rooms available?
It
did. And with a hotel rewards membership, and my AAA card, for a price below
the AWP group rate.
I
didn't have any Friday deadlines, didn't need to teach again in person until
Monday, couldn't think of any more excuses. Besides, sometimes a writer woman
(who works mainly alone at home) just needs to get the hell out of Dodge and
see a few other writers—or maybe 12,000 of them—in person.
Which
explains why, less than 12 hours later, I was in my car at
5:00 a.m. on a frigid Friday morning, bound for D.C., a four hour drive. Lucky me, I
like to drive, love a road trip, and had a book and the Hamilton CDs already
loaded. As I cranked the heat in the car, sipped hot tea my husband had handed
me after walking me across our icy driveway, I had a lightness that
never normally accompanies me when venturing to a writers conference: a feeling of possibility and adventure borne I guess from something I don’t get enough of: serendipity and spontaneity.
I'm
a planner. An advance planner, someone who likes being organized, knows what's coming
up on my schedule. But more to the point, when I head to a conference, I am typically armed with a carefully thought-out mental and physical list of tasks I have
self-assigned. Tasks I tell myself I must do, so that I'll feel the expense, time, and opportunity pays off: connections
I should make, people I should talk to, panels I should attend, secrets I
should, once and for all, uncover and finally understand about this writing life.
Notice
all the shoulds?
Which
may help explain why for months, maybe a year, I had been resigned to not
attending the behemoth AWP Conference last week, for all the usual (cover)
reasons—budgets, time, my lousy knee. The conference is too big, too tiring, too much to handle -- all those
far-more-accomplished-than-me writers all in one place being too much of a reminder of all I
think I SHOULD have done in my writing career by now, and haven't.
Driving
through the lightening darkness last Friday morning, however, without my usual "should" agenda, having not even skimmed the conference schedule, something shifted. I felt released from my usual mode of attack. What
if, I asked myself, I had no plan? No list of things I should accomplish,
people I must find? What if, instead of arriving burdened with lists of items
to tick off, I simply
tried to enjoy the conference? Enjoy others? Enjoy myself?
What
if, when I arrived, I did just what seemed appealing? Went to panels that
sounded interesting, or where colleagues were appearing, just because? What if I got to hug online friends I'd been wanting to meet in person, but if not, not? What if I wandered
the daunting book fair—where the tables of publishers, journals, MFA programs,
and vendors stretched across a double-football-field-sized space—with an open
mind, and not a tightly clutched list?
Reader,
that's precisely what I did.
I
arrived in D.C. mid-morning on Friday and from then until the crazy, zany, octopus-like conference wrapped up on Saturday night, I did not do one thing that, had I meticulously planned my trip in advance, I worried I should do.
I simply drifted
to what called to me, listening to my gut. Yes, I saw writing friends and colleagues, made new connections, met a few folks I've long wanted to meet. But without agenda, sans lists and shoulds. I approached the book fair as if it were an amusement park (or new shoe store!), listening to my feet and gut, picking up random new information as if I'd accidentally struck gold (and of course, gathering swag - see pic above!)
Over the two days, I maintained a newfound sense of, whatever happened, happened. And
I had perhaps the best conference experience of my life.
I'll
be back later this week with some of my favorite take-aways and tidbits. That I am planning on!
6 comments:
Ooh! I'm going to want to hear ALL ABOUT the conference.
I love this post and everything about it.
Steph, you'll get an earful in person soon, I'm sure!
Thanks, fullsoulahead! Always appreciate your reading & comments.
This is great! Glad you took advantage of the opportunity! I was so close, since I live in DC, but I felt intimidated and overwhelmed at the thought of it.
Can't wait to hear more about it. Love your spontaneity! I can just imagine how it felt. Good for you!
So glad you just went with it - and went! So sorry I missed you there. Great piece and inspiration here. Thank you, Lisa.
Post a Comment