Could there be a more incongruous setting for 12,000
angst-ridden writers—clad in black, oozing anxiety—than sunny California? Or is
this exactly the thing writers need, a Joad-like journey to the “other” edge of
the land, with mountains and valleys and a vast ocean beckoning, a land of milk
and honey and book contracts? Yes, the traveling circus that is the AWP writing conference
is headed to L.A. and I will be following, just one of the 12,000 bleary-eyed,
name-dropping, crowd-scanning, black-clad, totebag-toting writers in desperate
need of a drink and a blurb from Famous Writer. I haven’t been to L.A. in
years, but the direct quote I remember uttering as I was being driven around in
a convertible on an 80 degree January day was: “I feel my brain melting away,
and I’m happy about it!” Perhaps existential angst will melt away, and we’ll be
happy about it?
But on a more basic level, how can you survive the experience and live to tell the tale? Read on for my own conference survival tips, based on my past AWP experiences:
Wear comfortable shoes, at least most of the day. There’s lots of traipsing around long hallways and the long (sometimes uncarpeted) aisles of the book fair. It’s also inevitable that the one panel you really, really, really want to see will be in a teeny-tiny room and you’ll have to stand in the back…or sit on the floor; see the following tip:
Wear comfortable clothes, preferably taking a layer approach. Wherever you go, you will end up either in A) an incredibly stuffy room that will make you melt, or B) a room with an arctic blast directed at you. Bulk up and strip down as needed. Also, as noted above, the AWP conference staff has a knack for consistently misjudging the size of room required for a subject matter/speakers (i.e. Famous Writer in room with 30 chairs; grad student panel on Use of Dashes in Obscure Ancient Greek Poet in room with 300 chairs), so you may find yourself scrunched into a 2’x2’ square on the carpet; see the following tip:
To avoid being stuck sitting on the floor, arrive early to panels you really, really want to attend. If you are stuck on the floor, hold your ground with a big bag and/or coat to get yourself some extra space. Whatever you do, do not be nice and squeeze over…those panels can seem VERY LONG when someone’s knee is wedged in your ribs. (Any resulting bad karma will be worth it.)
If a panel is bad, ditch it. Yes, it’s rude. Yes, everyone does it. (Be better than the rest by at least waiting for an appropriate break, but if you must go mid-word, GO.) I can’t tell you the high caliber of presenters that I have walked out on, but think Very High. Remember that there are a thousand other options, and you have choices. The only time you have to stick it out is if A) the dull panel participant is your personal friend or B) the dull panel participant is/was your teacher or C) the dull panel participant is your editor/publisher. Those people will notice (and remember) that you abandoned them mid-drone and punish you accordingly (i.e. your glowing letters of rec will instead incinerate). Undoubtedly this is why I have never been published in Unnamed Very High Caliber Magazine, having walked out on the editor’s panel.
There are zillions of panels: When you pick up your registration badge, you’ll get a massive tome with information about all of them, and also a shorter schedule that’s easy to carry around. Take some time right away to read through the tome and circle the panels you want to attend on your master schedule. Then ditch the tome. Better yet, go to the AWP website now and scroll through the schedule tome and decide now where you want to be when. And best of all, use the “my schedule” planning feature on the online schedule to mark the events you’re interested in and keep that stored on your favorite technology (mine is a sheaf of printed paper…which may be smart since I often forget how/where to re-access “my schedule,” which requires logging in and somehow finding “my account”). Anyway…no point waking up early on Friday if there’s nothing you want to attend. I checkmark panels I might go to if nothing better is going on and star those that I will make a supreme effort to attend. Give yourself a couple of options at each time slot so that if a room is too crowded, you have an interesting alternative.
Someone will always ask a 20-minute question that is not so much a question but a way of showing off their own (imagined) immense knowledge of the subject and an attempt to erase the (endlessly lingering) sting of bitterness about having their panel on the same topic rejected. Don’t be that person. Keep your question succinct and relevant. Maybe even write it down first, before you start to endlessly ramble. And yes, if you are “that person,” everyone will mimic your annoying question to their friends in the bookfair aisle, and your career is over.
Don’t ever say anything gossipy on the elevator, unless you want the whole (literary) world to know it. Do listen up to the conversations of others on the elevator, and tell your friends what you’ve overheard over your offsite dinner, embellishing as necessary.
Same advice above exactly applies to the overpriced hotel bar. Also, if you happen to get a chair at the bar, or, goodness, EVEN A REAL LIVE TABLE, hang on to it!! People will join you if they see you’ve got a spot! Famous people! I mean it: the only reason to ever give up a table in the hotel bar is because the bar has shut down, you’ve consumed every bit of liquid in the clutter of glasses, and a beefy bouncer is headed your way.
Support the publications at the bookfair. Set a budget for yourself in advance, and spend some money on literary journals and books and subscriptions, being sure to break your budget. Do this, and then you won’t feel bad picking up the stuff that’s been heavily discounted or being given away free on the last day of the conference. But, please, do spend some money! These journals and presses rely on OUR support.
Just because something is free, you don’t have to take it. Unless you drove, you’ll have to find a way to bring home all those heavy books/journals on an airplane. Or you’ll have to wait in line at the hotel’s business center or the UPS store at the convention center to ship them home. So, be as discerning as you can when you see that magic markered “free” sign on top of a pile of sad-looking journals, abandoned by the grad students with hangovers who didn’t feel like dealing with their university's bookfair table.
Try not to approach the table of each journal at the
bookfair with this question: “How can I get published in your journal?”
Also, I recommend avoiding this one: “How come you didn’t publish my
poem/story/essay/screed?” Try instead: “What a beautiful journal. Please
tell me more about it.” Even better: “I’m thinking about subscribing.”
It may be too late for some of you, but it’s inevitable that you will see every writer you’ve ever met in the aisle of the bookfair at one AWP or another…so I hope you were nice to all of them and never screwed anyone over. Because, yes, they will remember, and it’s not fun reliving all that drama as the editors of The Georgia Review gaze on.
Pre-arrange some get-togethers with friends/teachers/grad student buddies, but don’t over-schedule. You’ll run into people, or meet people, or be invited to a party, or find an amazing off-the-beaten-track bar. Save some time for spontaneity! (Yes, I realize that I’m saying “plan” for spontaneity.)
Don’t laugh at this, but bring along Purell and USE IT often. For weeks after, post-AWP Facebook status updates are filled with writers bemoaning the deathly cold/sore throat/lingering and mysterious illness they picked up at AWP. We’re a sniffly, sneezy, wheezy, germy bunch, and the thought of 12,000 of us packed together breathing on each other, shaking hands, and giving fake hugs of glee gives the CDC nightmares.
It may be too late for some of you, but it’s inevitable that you will see every writer you’ve ever met in the aisle of the bookfair at one AWP or another…so I hope you were nice to all of them and never screwed anyone over. Because, yes, they will remember, and it’s not fun reliving all that drama as the editors of The Georgia Review gaze on.
Pre-arrange some get-togethers with friends/teachers/grad student buddies, but don’t over-schedule. You’ll run into people, or meet people, or be invited to a party, or find an amazing off-the-beaten-track bar. Save some time for spontaneity! (Yes, I realize that I’m saying “plan” for spontaneity.)
Don’t laugh at this, but bring along Purell and USE IT often. For weeks after, post-AWP Facebook status updates are filled with writers bemoaning the deathly cold/sore throat/lingering and mysterious illness they picked up at AWP. We’re a sniffly, sneezy, wheezy, germy bunch, and the thought of 12,000 of us packed together breathing on each other, shaking hands, and giving fake hugs of glee gives the CDC nightmares.
Along the lines of healthcare, don’t forget to drink a lot
of water and pop an Advil before going to sleep if (haha…if!) you’ve been drinking
a little more than usual.
Escape! Whether it’s offsite dinners/drinks/museums/walks
through park/mindless shopping or whatever, do leave at some point. You will
implode if you don’t.
This is a super-secret tip that I never share, but I’ll
share it as a reward for those who have read this far: there will be a
bathroom that’s off the beaten track and therefore is never crowded. Scope out
this bathroom early on. Don’t tell anyone except your closest friends the
location of this bathroom.
Finally, take a deep breath. You’re just as much of a writer as the other 11,999 people around you. Don’t let them get to you.
Finally, take a deep breath. You’re just as much of a writer as the other 11,999 people around you. Don’t let them get to you.
*****
If you're interested, I will be on the following panels and
signing books at the following places at the Bookfair:
Friday, April 1, 2016
AWP Panel: “We’re on the Road to Somewhere: Approaches to
Managing the Writing Life”
9am ~ 10:15am
Room 407
L.A. Convention Center, Meeting Room Level
F114. We're on the
Road to Somewhere: Approaches to Managing the Writing Life. (Josh
Rolnick, Yiyun
Li, Austin
Bunn, Sonya
Chung, Leslie
Pietrzyk) There are no shortcuts when it comes to writing. Sometimes, the
challenge isn’t getting started—it’s sticking with it through criticism and
rejection; doubts and confusion with the material itself. In this inspiring
panel, successful writers discuss their own winding paths to publication and
offer practical suggestions for building a creative and professional life in a
variety of writing fields—including editing, blogging, and screenwriting—while
managing a writing life over the long haul.
Friday, April 1, 2016
AWP Panel: “Should I Know Who You Are? Book PR for the
Modern Age”
4:30pm ~ 5:45pm
Room 408A
L.A. Convention Center, Meeting Room Level
F280. Should I Know
Who You Are? Book PR for the Modern Age. (Leslie
Pietrzyk, Lori
A. May, Beth
Parker, Kelly
Davio, Katie Freeman) Turns out that writing the book is a cinch
compared to promoting the dang thing. How can writers embrace shameless
self-promotion while avoiding the dangerous humble-brag? How can we claim media
and reviewer attention in a crowded marketplace? How will readers find us? An
independent book publicist, a small press publisher, and two publicity-minded
authors offer insight and tips to help writers of all genres navigate old and
new media.
Signing @ the Bookfair:
Friday, April 1
11AM
@University of Pittsburgh Press
Booth 403
Saturday, April 2
1PM
@Tahoma Literary Review