LIKE WHOA. I’m seein’ the likes of Junòt Diaz, Natasha Trethaway, Rick Moody, Rita Dove, Sapphire, Amy Hempel, Bob Hicock, Kay Ryan, Joyce Carol Oates…to name just a few.
How is it that I just recently learned about this mystical amalgamation of all these classy people? I mean gosh, as a fledgling writer, one really needs someone to take them aside and whisper such glory into their ear. Naturally, this will prevent the type of obnoxious swooning I am now doing. At work. To the amusement of my ever present and alert co-workers.
Really really really. I’ve even heard rumors that an AWP attendee could encounter a writer they admire, say Rita Dove, at some little dive bar. Maybe even throw back a few beers with said demi-goddess.
So, for those of you readers who maybe don’t know the wonders of AWP, I’m going to do what I do best: make a list.
-A place where knowledge is spread through words, both spoken and written.
-A place where the scholarly congregate and maybe even get rowdy.
-The acronym for Associated Writing Programs.
-A yearly conference around either February or March.
-Taking place close to home next year (Chicago).
-The springboard to the “largest system of literary patronage the world has ever seen.”
-Also a book fair.
-Attractive to more than 8,000 attendees and over 500 publishers.
-The place where networking is no longer such a dirty word.
(here: is a link to learn more).
AWP IS NOT:
-The acronym for American Wimp Patrol, or Asinine Walleyed People (THANK GOD).
-A rull big party…at least not all the time.
-A place to waste time.
-A place to brown nose.
So. I am pretty sure the Chickz are gonna head on up to the windy city next year for AWP. We might even score a table and of course, we’ll ramble about it for all y’all that couldn’t make the trip.