Two New Stories Published!!

Oh, what a rush of excitement, to have two new stories out at once!  I believe I could definitely get used to this….

“I Am the Widow” is published online, for free, right here, in a fabulous journal called r.kv.r.y.  The story is short, but it’s rather relentless (to use one of my favorite words for intense writing), so my feelings won’t be hurt (much) if you decide to skip it. 

The opening:

Just like at any movie or TV funeral, his casket gets put up front, set under specially focused lighting, parenthesized by yardstick-high sprays of white gladiolus. Plump velvet kneeler in front of him, velvet curtains behind. Top half of the box open, so we can see his face. If we want to see him dead, that is, if we want to look right at death. There are plenty ducking their heads, twisting necks around and staring up high into the ceiling or deep down through the carpeted floor. Not me. Right off, I grab hold of his hand, entwine my fingers around his, not because that feels so great but because it unnerves the people circling me. Hell yeah. I’m grabbing a dead man’s hand. I’m grabbing my dead husband’s hand. Maybe I won’t let go. Maybe I’m going crazy.

I’m certain I’m going crazy. I’m certain I am.... 

About r.kv.r.y quarterly literary journal:

“r.kv.r.y. comes from the dictionary definition of the word recovery: an act, process, or instance of recovering; a return to normal conditions; something gained or restored in recovering; obtaining usable substances from unusable sources.”

You can read the editor’s note with more information here and the submission guidelines here.

~~AND~~

My story with the enticing title of “Slut” just came out in a fantastic print journal, Cimarron Review.  This story, too, might be a tiny little bit relentless, though in a sneakier way.  Here’s the opening:

Nicole chose the restaurant: King Street Café in Old Town Alexandria, not too far from her house, easy parking. At the very least, she knew she’d get a good meal out of the night. She didn’t ask her friends for advice because she didn’t want them to know she was going on this blind date.
 Ben said he’d seen the restaurant written up by The Washington Post and thought going there would be fun. He used the word “fun” a lot in their phone conversation, which made her nervous. “Sounds fun,” he’d say, or he’d conclude a story with, “Yeah, that was a fun time.” She couldn’t pinpoint what it was, maybe that “fun” wasn’t a very masculine word or that it wasn’t very mature. Either way, she wasn’t anticipating a “fun” dinner. But she had committed, and she was proud of herself for setting up the meeting for Thursday night at six o’clock—even a stealth date was a date....

Here’s the journal and how to order a copy (or subscribe), should you wish to do so.

Here’s more information about the journal:

“One of the oldest quarterlies in the nation, Cimarron Review publishes work by writers at all stages of their careers, including Pulitzer prize winners, writers appearing in the Best AmericanSeries and the Pushcart anthologies, and winners of national book contests. Since 1967,Cimarron has showcased poetry, fiction, and nonfiction with a wide-ranging aesthetic. Our editors seek the bold and the ruminative, the sensitive and the shocking, but above all they seek imagination and truth-telling, the finest stories, poems, and essays from working writers across the country and around the world.”

Submission guidelines can be found here.

Seattle! If I have to die eating, may it be here....

Oh, the shame of having a fabulous trip to Seattle and not writing it up while it all fresh in my mind.  Perhaps that’s one way of editing myself, to wait three weeks and see what I still remember.  In my defense, I’ve just spent ten days at the amazing Virginia Center for Creative Arts (VCCA) where I immersed myself in my novel-in-progress (which is starting to feel more like a novel and less like a 200-page mess).  There were two days of magical writing, where ideas and sentences flowed like a river, and eight days of the more brutal hard work of pushing, prodding, and hoping—which is a pretty good ratio, I’d say.

Anyway…time to catch up on Seattle, where I went to the AWP conference, the largest gathering of writers in the country.  I believe they’re up to 13,000 of us in this one place.  Thank goodness Seattle was up for the task of absorbing us and making sure we all got enough excellent food and liquor.

I had the first afternoon to explore on my own, and it was oysters all the way:  a wonderful selection of six at Cutters Crabhouse, and then I won’t tell you how many at Elliott’s Oyster House, which was an oyster bar I will dream about for the rest of my days.  Let’s just say, I ordered six, and they were the best oysters I’ve ever had—each unique, each bright, each with lingering mouth-feel and taste.  I may have ordered more after that first six…but how many more will be my little secret!  Perfect wine pairing, and very friendly waiter (everyone in Seattle was super-friendly—buzzed on coffee?).  I didn’t want to ever leave.  I’m sorry to say that I’m pretty sure that west coast oysters are the best.  And this place was so serious about oysters the menu included information about how they were harvested! (For the super-serious, here are my selections: Otter Cove, Penn Cove, Hama Hama, Fanning Bay [can’t read the handwriting!], Eagle Creek, Calm Cove.)

I walked through the Pike Place Market and the surrounding area and truly almost went insane because I wanted to eat EVERYTHING!  It was overwhelming, and I wish I had four stomachs like those lucky cows.  I tried some chowder at Pike Place Chowder, pastry at Piroshky Piorshky, and stared longingly at the ginger beer place, the cheese place, and a thousand other places and produce stands.  I cracked when I found the Copperworks Distillery, and tried a small (honestly, VERY small) sample of gin and bought some interesting-looking, amber tonic (Bradley’s Kina Tonic) that Steve later noticed was featured in the new issue of Imbibe magazine (yes, there’s a magazine for mixologists).

There had to be some space between all this eating, and woman does not live on food alone…she needs books!  I found the deservedly famous Seattle Public Library, which is an architecture wonder and—if the crowds are an indication—a vital part of the fabric of the city.  Seriously, this building is so beautiful and such an incredible showcase for the vibrancy of books that I almost cried as I rode the artsy escalators to the top floor for a fly’s eye view of the city through the glittering glass panels.  Of course I bought a ton of stuff in the gift shop. (See below for some photos I took with my NEW smartphone!!!)

That night, I met up with some fabulous Converse students at the Taphouse Grill, which had about a zillion beers—seriously, out spot at the bar faced a solid and vast wall of beer taps—and then hung out with more Converse folks at Wild Ginger, a Thai and Thai-inspired restaurant that created one of the most perfect appetizers I’ve ever had, which basically was a salmon curry compacted and distilled to its essence, all wrapped up in a banana leaf.  I had made a big production of how I don’t like sharing food and wanted my own…but when I got this dish, it was so incredible that I had to force bites upon other people so they could try it and I could watch their faces when their tastebuds got the hit.  This is why they trusted me when I ordered ginger ice cream for dessert to share, and that, too, was incredible.

Another dinner highlight was Miller’s Guild, located in a hip-happening hotel (not part of the conference hotel selections!) that was also one of Seattle’s oldest buildings (1926).  The restaurant was known for some sort of famous wood grill that looked very fiery and intense.  So I had to get beef—so tender and lush—but the most memorable aspect of this wonderful meal (with another fabulously friendly waiter!) was the cask-aged gin old-fashioned.  Yes, a GIN old-fashioned.  If you’re not up on current mixology experimentation, aging spirits for several weeks in a wooden cask is the new thing—flavor and color is added, and what flavor!  This was about as perfect a drink that could exist.  I was so enamored of it (and knew Steve would want to know everything about it) that the friendly waiter sent over the friendly bartender who answered every question I had—which gin, which bitters, what kind of sugar for the simple syrup.

Did I mention that people were friendly?  And that Seattle actually can be gloriously sunny, and when it is, people are even friendlier?

This might not come as a shock to you, dear reader, but it was a shock to me that I felt sick on Friday night, something sudden and drastic.  And—brace yourself—I HAD TO MISS A MEAL!* The horror, the horror.  But I hear that the Purple Café and Wine Bar was wonderful.  Next time (and there will be a next time; despite my extended stay due to weather, I am not done with Seattle).

Caution prevailed food-wise the next day, Saturday, which almost broke my heart.

And then the gods intervened in the form of a snowstorm in Washington that delayed my Sunday flight until Tuesday.  And, lucky for me, I was stranded with a DC friend who also had not had her fill of Seattle!

Sunday morning, I jumped back on the food wagon with a wonderful breakfast at the bar of Lola, a happening breakfast/brunch spot with an hour long wait, unless you lucked into a seat at the bar, as I instantly did (as if the food gods felt sorry for my prolonged compromised state).  Awesome bloody marys, and the bartender was pouring them out at a rate of about one every two minutes.

I walked to the Seattle art museum and took a guided tour of the Joan Miro exhibit which was informative.  I liked the museum overall, especially a wild and wonderful exhibit of African art.

My friend and I taxied up to the Capitol Hill area for drinks and dinner, and what a night!  One of the best food experiences I’ve ever had.  This was the night of the Oscars (on west coast time, remember) so there were no crowds, which made for a pleasant evening. First stop:  Tavern Law, a craft cocktail bar, with a thoughtful menu and a—guess what!—friendly bartender (thank you, Michael)!  I had to try a gin drink with egg white, since that’s something you don’t find at most bars (making a drink properly involves much, much, much shaking, which is hard on the arms and rotator cuff), so I had the Lusty Lady, which was delectable without being cloying: Genever gin, cranberry juice (I think…fuzzy notes!), egg white, and something lavender…actual lavender? Lavender simple syrup?  For my second drink, the bartender went off-menu for me, making a drink he had invented that involved—I kid you not—blue cheese tincture and saffron tincture. How does a drink work with blue cheese, you wonder?  Amazingly!  (I mean, as long as you’re a blue cheese fan.)  There was an earthy after-glow that was surprising in a delightful way.  (See Steve’s “Two at the Most” column for more on Tavern Law.)

Alas, we had to get some real food, so we walked to Lark and settled into a wonderful booth and had one of the best meals I’ve had, EVER.  The waiter spoke my language immediatelywhen he came to tell us about the menu and that everything was a “small plate” and that most people got three things.  Three!  Yay!  Exactly what I wanted to hear…though it was hard to pick three.  I decided a focus on fish would make sense, so I started with a yellowtail tuna Carpaccio that was bright and melted on the tongue.  And my friend had heard the char was to die for, so we both got that and if dying is anything like what that char tasted like, sign me up!  (For the super-serious, the dish is actually called:  “Arctic Char with Brussels Sprouts, Smoked Butter, and Rye Salt).  So beyond lovely…lovely times infinity.  (This is where I wish I had been taking notes, but I always find that it’s much more fun to simply eat and enjoy the moment.)  I felt guilty for so much indulgence that I asked the waiter for a vegetable recommendation, and he suggested the Bloomsdale spinach sautéed with Meyer lemon butter.  Any spinach with its own special name had to be something worth checking out, and it, too, was AMAZING!  If I could only have one meal in Seattle, Lark would have to arm-wrestle with oysters at Elliott’s.

On Monday, I walked back up to Capitol Hill, which was an interesting city walk and gave me a stronger feel for the real town, away from the tourist/convention life of downtown.  I came across about 1000 coffee shops and tiny restaurants that were begging me to eat something…more heartbreak as I pressed onward, to The Elliott Bay Book Company, Seattle’s (deservedly) famous and amazing bookstore.  I had decided that I would spend as much time as I wanted to, looking at books, reading staff recommendations, and my mission was to buy books by people I didn’t know or know of, books I hadn’t heard about…to just explore and go wherever that led me.  So, two hours and six books later, I emerged as if from a dream.  This is probably the best bookstore I’ve ever been in (I guess if I could only go to one, it would have to arm-wrestle The Strand in New York City), and certainly one of the best bookstore experiences.  (You can read about one of the books I bought and read, The Homesman by Glendon Swarthout, here.) 

For a light lunch, I picked Oddfellows Café, a hipsterish, brunchy vibe in an old, restored Odd Fellows building from the 20s or so.  The salad was…amazing!  And scrambled eggs with cheese on homemade biscuit with homemade strawberry jam was…amazing!  The eggs were such that the cheddar had melded into them, as if into its own form of food product.  So yellow!  And walking back to the hotel, I came across a dog park, so I people/dog-watched in the sun, which is—surprisingly, since I’m not really a dog person—is one of my very favorite city activities.

And the last meal:  Blueacre Seafood, where I had another really excellent salad (lavender-infused goat cheese!) and, of course, finally, SALMON with a brown butter sauce and almonds and dried cherries. Ah, so this is what salmon really can be?  Again, sign me up!  And for dessert, salted caramel pot de crème, so rich and luscious I regret to this day that I had to leave behind two bites.

And off to the airport the next day, sitting on the plane with my friend for entertainment, my amazing book to read, and time to digest it all before hitting DC and snow.

Oh, the AWP conference….right.  That was fabulous too…learned a lot, talked a lot, listened a lot, ended up with a lot of journals, saw a lot of cool people, had a lot of fun doing my four-minute reading of this story.

_____________

*Please note that on these extravaganzas I do not typically eat three meals a day.  Otherwise, you’re right, I would explode.  But it was awful to have to miss a planned meal (not to mention the fine company I was supposed to dine with).

Here are some pictures of the public library (uh-oh...I've got a smart phone now, but I'll try not to get out totally out of control):

Discovery! The Homesman by Glendon Swarthout

I remember back in the olden days as a child, going to the library and simply grabbing a book because it looked interesting…not because I’d heard of it or the author or because “everyone” was reading it.  I decided to take this approach during my recent Seattle trip—extended several days thanks to weather issues; more on this later—when I had the chance to visit the (rightfully) famous Elliott Bay Book Company book store in the fun and funky Capital Hill neighborhood.

My mission:  buy some books, preferably west coast-oriented, that I had never heard of, by people I had never heard of.

I spent a delightful two hours wandering the aisles in what is, truly, the most inviting bookstore I’ve ever been in.  Lots of room, lots of face-out books, lots of books period.  I took my time because I had it—nowhere to be, nothing to do (also like the olden days)--pulling out anything that caught my eye due to title, color, randomness.  I read and pondered the staff recommendation tags, which were exceptionally well-written and descriptive.  I ended up with an armload of books—okay, one was by someone I had heard of—but all of my books focused on either Seattle or the west.

The one I selected to read on the airplane home was The Homesman by Glendon Swarthout (first published in 1988, at the end of the author's life).  On the cover is a picture of a sod house on the prairie so it’s no surprise I was attracted.  And then the premise:  it’s the 1850’s and four women lose their minds during the hard Nebraska winter and must be escorted back east where they will be sent back to their families or an asylum.  A hale and hearty young (by our standards) spinster steps up to this sad and difficult task, enlisting the aid of a claim jumper everyone wants run out of town or worse.

I worried this book might be sappy or overly sentimental but by the bottom of the first page, I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be when I read this line in a litany of woes suffered by one particular family of homesteaders: 

“Then one of their oxen got the warbles, worms under the skin. You could cut open the swelling and douse the worms with coal oil to kill them if you had any coal oil. Let be, the worms would suck the very soul out of the ox, Line [the wife’s name] was sure, and come spring, yoked up, it would fall down dead in the field, the poor creature.”

By page 9, something so horrific happens I can’t tell you what it is.  And that’s just the beginning.  I lost track of how many times I gasped or murmured, “Oh my god,” as I read.

This book is totally unsentimental and is definitely the dark side to the Laura Ingalls Wilder books that I so loved back during the days I was wandering the Iowa City Public Library.  People go to the outhouse here, and how people suffer—from events, from nature, from others, from bad luck and poor decisions, from the fact that it was damn hard to scratch a living out of that unforgiving land.  

The book is well-researched, and every now and then I felt that research weigh a bit heavy, but mostly what I learned was fascinating, the bits of history that fall through the cracks (for example, now I know both how to jump a claim and how to roust a claim jumper).  The narrative is spare but with moments of immense beauty—like the landscape, I suppose—and just when I found myself doubting an authorial craft choice midway through the book, it paid off and wrenched my heart almost beyond reason.

I see this book is going to be a “major motion picture” with Meryl Streep, Hilary Swank (good luck making her “as plain as an old tin pail”), and a number of famous people.  Do yourself a favor and read the book before they prettify things up…though this story is so powerful, I hope even Hollywood can’t wreck it.

Here’s more information about the author, Glendon Swarthout, who seems to be defined as a “western writer”; many of his books were made into movies.  Time to stop ghettoizing writers!  Bring this book into the canon!  Read some sample pages here and decide for yourself.

Then buy yourself a copy…here’s the Elliott Bay Book Company link.

Fitzgerald's Trimalchio Now Available as an Ebook

In what must be the worst marketing email ever written, I have discovered that Simon & Schuster has made Trimalchio, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s early version of The Great Gatsby, available as an e-book/Kindle.  We own the hardcover, which was $40-something when we bought it(!)—and are happy to have it—but this is a much better bargain at $9.99.

While the bones of The Great Gatsby are clearly there, as a writer and a reader it was shocking to come across a number of changes and rearrangements.  For example, there’s a scene where Daisy shows up at Jay’s house and is ready to run away with him (she even has a suitcase).  He refuses, saying that the point is that she needs to renounce Tom or some schoolboy ridiculousness that barely seems plausible.  Another early flaw is that we don’t learn Gatsby’s background until the book is almost over, in Chapter Eight (of Nine), when (IMHO) it might be a little late to gin up some sympathy for him.  And that awful title, of course.

If you’re a Gatsby fan, Trimalchio is a worthwhile investigation.  Here’s where you can order it and (supposedly) read more, though there’s not much to read.  But the cover looks great! (And here it is on Amazon, again without much explanation or text.)

AWP14: Where to Get a Great Drink in Seattle!

Reposted from June 2012, my husband’s take on the craft cocktail scene in Seattle from his "Two at the Most" column.  You know, just in case you maybe feel like having a good drink while at AWP this year:

I can report that the craft cocktail movement in Seattle is alive, well, and indeed—thriving.  In fact, I was waiting to take the ferry from Seattle to Bainbridge Island and in the small bar at the ferry terminal I had a Manhattan made with a rye distilled on Bainbridge Island, WA; Dolin Sweet Vermouth; top quality bitters; and a burned orange twist! It was better than 90 percent of what you would find in Washington, DC restaurants.

I was able to visit four places while I was in Seattle and only scratched the surface.  Ambiance was excellent in all of them.  Good cocktails in each.  I was surprised that all of the places I went to served significant/unique food. Not full dinners but small plates/heavy, gourmet appetizers.  I would recommend them all to people going to Seattle with the exception of Canon, which I may have just hit on a night with two “dud” mixologists. Fine enough, but I enjoyed the other places much better. All of them seemed to be open seven days a week.

Zig Zag Café (1501 Western Ave. at Pike Street)

This was my first stop on a Sunday evening.  My drink notes are probably the worst for Zig Zag as it was the only place where I did not sit at the bar. A little hard to find unless one looks at the comments on Yelp which are clear…if you do not leave them at the hotel. It is in an alley between two streets just below the façade of a three-story office building below Pike Place Market and above Western Ave.  Address is on the façade of the building.  Stucco, plants outside the door.  Nice size curved bar inside (10-15 seats) then a number of velvet banquets and some small tables.

Casey was working when we went in. Very attentive, asked what we liked, anything we did not like.  He prepared a variation on a martini for my colleague who is more of a beer drinker that he enjoyed, and I had a variation on a Negroni and then a Manhattan.  Cocktails he served didn’t really have names; he just tweaked the proportions and the liquors, which was fine, but I always like a name even if it is a personal creation.  Since we didn’t sit at the bar I don’t recall if they had full printed menus but they had a chalkboard with cocktails written on it.  Music was low, unobtrusive jazz. People sitting across from us raved about the food (Caesar salad/pasta dish).  They had no cocktails however.  Can I trust them?

Someone at another place I went to while I was in Seattle said that there was a bartender at Zig Zag who was supposed to be a “wizard” at the bar but he didn’t know his name. 

Prior to heading to Zig Zag we stopped at The Brooklyn on 2^nd Ave., for oysters.  Great West Coast Oysters and had an excellent Dry Fly Martini there.  Not a craft cocktail spot but very good nonetheless. They know how to make a martini.

Canon (928 12^th Ave.)

Visited Canon on Monday evening.  It was, unfortunately, a disappointment for me.  Easy to find, nice ambiance.  Cocktails were competently made but nothing spectacular, and no real interest in having a back and forth with customers.  Dark wood inside with long curved bar that sat about 20.  A few tables that sat four to six. When I sat down, I asked one of the two bartenders if Jamie Boudreau was working that night so I could mention a mutal acquaintance.  I was told he’d check in the back.  He never seemed to check and never got back to me one way or the other.  Later, I asked if Murray Stevenson was working and was told…”No, just us two!”  I was surprised he didn’t ask my name or if I knew Jamie. 

Onto the cocktails—I started with a Leopold and Cocci Americano (my suggestion to use the Cocci).  Was very good.  Balanced.  I have had Leopold Gin before and I liked this combination better that with Dolin. I followed that with what seems to be big in Seattle: you “pick your own base spirit,” and then they make something for you. I chose a Genever.  Again, the cocktail was good but when I asked what else he used, I was told it was a secret and he wouldn’t tell me. 

Really!?

That sort of summed up the bartenders working that night.  Finished with an Aviation made with a Seattle gin I had heard about called Gun Club Gin distilled by Sun Liquor.  Good cocktail, good gin, but nothing I couldn’t make at home.  I had the pork buns, which were recommended online, and they were fine. Nice presentation with a cannon on the plate.  Should have turned the cannon on the bartender…then he might have told me what was in the drink.

Granted, I might have had a completely different experience with a different mixologist, but my experience being what it was I would not recommend Canon as my first choice based on my experience with other places in Seattle and with everything else out there I didn’t get to.

Tavern Law (1406 12^th Street)

Undaunted, I headed down the street three blocks to Tavern Law.  Owned by Brian McCracken and Dana Tough.  Best cocktails and bartenders of the trip. Long winding bar and tables.  A little lighter color vibe inside.  Music was a little loud and didn’t seem to fit with the classic cocktail theme of the 19^th and 20^th century but that would be my only criticism.  Bartenders asked me what I liked…we looked at the menu and off we went.  They had an extensive printed menu of classics (most extensive menu of the trip—sours, flips, punches, juleps, coolers, etc.) and their own creations. 

Started off with a Fourth Regiment, which had a unique layering of flavors with the celery bitters. First time for me with that cocktail. In that vein, we moved onto a Greenpoint and finished with a Seelbach Cocktail.  I believe George was mixing most of the cocktails with Layne’s assistance.  Later in the evening, they gave me a black card with just a phone number to get into the super-secret upstairs, which was not open on Mondays.  Go to the phone on the wall and call up and they buzz you in.  They also suggested I purchase Ted Haigh’s Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails, which just arrived.  

In between cocktails, I had an excellent foie gras terrine. Fried chicken is supposed to be their specialty.  These folks make a great cocktail. They also suggested checking out Liberty on 15^th Ave., East and a place called Rob Roy.

All in all a great experience, except for the music missing the mark.

Bath Tub Gin & Co. (2205 2^nd Ave.)

Last night in Seattle, so the big debate was whether to return to Tavern Law and the super secret room or to venture off to new territory.  I headed west to Bath Tub Gin & Co., which was challenging to find.  It is actually between 1^st and 2^nd off Blanchard St., in Gin Alley.  Essentially walk around to the back of the building. Luckily, I cornered two guys going into the front of the building who directed me.

The ambiance here was probably nicest of all of the places…but it was the tiniest too.  Top level has a semi-circular bar that seats 6-8 with one table for two, and downstairs there were maybe three or four tables for two.  Dark wood.  Music was very low key. Another nice printed menu with a much smaller selection of cocktails but probably the largest selection gins and whiskeys. The menu was all their own creations, i.e. Jedi Mind Trick (Brandy, Absinthe, maple syrup, lemon juice, thyme), Just above Social (Gin, hickory salt & pepper falernum, Angostura Bitters, black olive).

Started with the Just Above Social (a line from a Hunter S. Thompson novel, the bartender explained) then moved to a martini with a gin I wasn’t that wild about (Cold River, I think) which he offered to swap out, but I didn’t take him up on.  Next did a “Dealer’s Choice” where I asked him to use the Yamazaki Scotch.  He pulled a drink together he called Carnal Knowledge (Scotch, Yellow Chartreuse, Bonal, and grapefruit bitters).  And, he not only told me what was in it he wrote down the recipe!  Finished up with a small Manhattan with Buffalo Trace which I had not had before.

The bartender (there was only one) was great and the ambiance was wonderful, but for some reason no drink was quite a home run here. However, based on the ambiance, the bartender and how nice he was I would give them another try. 

Tavern Law…best cocktails and most skilled mixologists with a unique menu…I’d give Bath Tub Gin & Co. best in show and with most potential and is Zig Zag, a solid choice for both cocktails and comfort.  And while I would recommend them all, I was sadly disappointed by Canon which was suggested by one of DC’s own craft cocktail gurus and features Jamie Boudreau and Murray Stenson (formerly of Zig Zag Café), two legends in the Seattle cocktail scene (neither was there the night I stopped in).

~Steve Ello

(And here are my annual AWP conference survival tips.)

Surviving AWP 2014!

I recently watched Robert Redford battle the elements in the fabulous movie, "All Is Lost," which reminded me that it's time for my annual list of helpful tips for dealing with the AWP conference, which will draw 10,000 bleary-eyed, name-dropping, crowd-scanning, black-clad, totebag-toting writers in desperate need of a drink and a blurb from Famous Writer. 

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—if last year is an indication—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 right now I’m too dumb to figure out how/where to re-access “my schedule”).  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.

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.

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!

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 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.

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 10,000 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.

Finally, take a deep breath.  You’re just as much of a writer as the other 9,999 people around you.  Don’t let them get to you.

Lee Martin's Ten Thoughts About Writing a Novel

I’ve become entranced with the lists of 10 lately (worked for Letterman, didn’t it?) and I have some plans for my own future lists, but on this busy day, here is a great list that I’ll guide you to:  “Ten Thoughts about Writing a Novel” by the writer Lee Martin.  I like every item on his list, but I’m especially intrigued by number 2 and number 9:

2. Sometimes I read through a draft and identify the single piece of information in each chapter that contributes to some sort of shift in the plot. That’s my way of making myself aware of why each chapter exists. No important information for the plot? Hmm. . .maybe that’s a chapter I just don’t need. So much of revising a novel is a matter of making it lean. 9. At some point, I need to know what’s at stake for me in the writing of the book, not just what’s at stake for me as a writer, but also what’s at stake for me as a person. The two identities are never very far apart.

Eight more as good as those two here!