Posted By admin / 3rd March 2014
After three days of juicy, nutrient-rich AWP goodness, I needed a break. Time away from the crowds and the recycled convention center air to integrate everything I had learned over the past few days. As writers, this is what we do. We furiously absorb, and then we take time to process, to make meaning.
Luckily, AWP choses some pretty great cities in which to have its conference. Seattle is certainly no exception. For me, it’s been the perfect place to sift through and organize all the ideas and words I’ve been exposed to over the course of the conference.
In the morning I went for a brisk walk through the pine trees of Ravenna Park with my friend Natasha who works at the University of Washington Press. We talked about the state of modern publishing, the good, the bad, and the ugly. There is so much inspiring literary work being done by small and university presses. On the other hand, commercial publishing’s focus on profitability at the expense of quality is disturbing. The question is, how do you create a sustainable industry around well-made, artistic literature?
All that deep conversation left us hungry, so we stopped by the U District farmers market. I picked up some dark rye bread, fresh smoked salmon, and a hunk of delightfully gooey local cheese for my lunch. Every time I come to the Pacific Northwest I am amazed all over again by how incredible the local food selection is. Some guy was playing an acoustic version of “Time Warp” from The Rocky Horror Picture Show on his guitar, which was just the cap on the Seattle cake from me.
After making myself what was very possibly the best lunch had by anyone anywhere on the planet, I took the bus downtown to meet my friend Sara at the EMP Museum. If you’ve never been to this museum of music and popular culture, I recommend that you make a point of going the next time you’re in Seattle. There’s an exhibit on horror movies, which explores why we love scaring ourselves, and an exhibit on Science Fiction that looks at the genre as an allegory the questions we have about our own society. Other exhibits included a study of how Nirvana brought the anarchist spirit of punk and grunge to the masses, a look at Jimi Hendrix’s formative years in London, and an exhibition of famous buildings build out of LEGOs.
It was the perfect AWP synthesis activity. Being exposed to all of those vastly different types of creativity (Hendrix, Cobain, Hitchcock, Asimov, whoever built those amazing LEGO sculptures) gave me new ways to think about my own writing projects, as well as some of the ideas that have come up repeatedly during the conference: art vs. commerce, staying true to your voice, owning and transcending labels, diversity, and on and on.
After scoring a live vinyl recording of the Jimi Hendrix Experience at the Miami Pop Festival, Sara and I took the monorail (another touristy Seattle thing that’s totally worth it) back to the Convention Center. I helped pack up the UA Press book fair booth, and felt a little sad that these days of literary madness were coming to an end. Luckily, it wasn’t quite over yet. I headed over to the Red Lion Hotel for the Literary Orphans’ AWP Last Call party, where I finally got to meet Joe Clifford, a great writer and the editor of an anthology of Bruce Springsteen-inspired noir fiction called Trouble in the Heartland, which will include my story “Darkness on the Edge of Town,” along with stories by Dennis Lehane, Hilary Davidson and other crime writing greats. (Can you tell I’m excited for that one?)
A quick drink with Joe and then it was back to the convention center for the closing night reading with Tim Egan and Sherman Alexie. Tim Egan read a beautiful, lyrical essay about the upriver path of the noble Pacific Northwest salmon (one of whom I had eaten for lunch that day). I especially loved this quote from Rudyard Kipling, who, after fishing for salmon in the Pacific Northwest said, “I have lived! The American Continent may now sink under the sea, for I have taken the best that it yields, and the best was neither dollars, love, nor real estate.”
And then it was time for Sherman Alexie. While I’ve read and enjoyed many of his books, I was completely unprepared for the warm spirit, x-acto knife wit, and overwhelming charm of the man. “It’s so nice to be here at AWP around so many dorks,” he said before forcing the whole audience of hundreds to double over in laughter with one piece about openly gay NBA player Jason Collins and the intrinsic homoeroticism of basketball, and another about a hopelessly sweet high school senior eating hot fudge sundaes with the parents of the girl who just dumped him at prom. After he was done, he turned to the sign language interpreter and said, “I just think sign language is so amazing. You can say anything in sign language and it looks cool.” He paused, turned to the audience with a mischievous smile and said, “Please, saw my legs off.” Everyone laughed as the interpreter dutifully signed the words. Alexie continued, “I find the man on stage to be exceptionally attractive.” The crowd lost it.
Sara, who had the patience to wait in the massively long signing line, said he was every bit as enchanting one on one. What a perfect way to end my first AWP extravaganza.
While it will be nice to get home to the dry March heat of Arizona, I’m already excited for next year. See you in 2015, Minneapolis!
Lela Scott MacNeil was born in Los Alamos, NM, same as the atomic bomb. She is the Sales Manager at the University of Arizona Press, teaches at the Writers Studio, and her work is forthcoming from Gertrude and Gutter Books.