In just a bit, Philip is going to pry his sleep-deprived body from bed and take me to the airport so I can catch my flight to AWP. That’s support.
In fact, it was he who insisted I go to the Associated Writers and Writing Program conference, even though he cannot come this year because these goats don’t feed themselves and, honestly, one of us need to pat Mosey’s belly at least once a day.
This conference always overwhelms, always rejuvenates, always motivates me. . . but mostly, I leave these four days with a renewed sense that writing matters, that even if our culture thinks it doesn’t at least 12,000 other people in this world do . . . and that knowledge can carry me a long way.
So stay tuned to my Facebook page to see what panels I visit, who I get to hug, and what famous authors I’m too shy to talk to. (Last year, it was Sherman Alexie.) Or maybe we’ll all be surprised, and I’ll suddenly become brave.
Off to Minneapolis, I go. . . with quiet hopes to run into the Rehab Addict somewhere in the midst of that writerly sea. 🙂
If you were attending a conference of 12,000 writers, what might you do?
A. Consume copious amounts of coffee and greet everyone.
B. Consume copious amounts of coffee and gaze longingly at your favorite writers from across the book fair.
C. Consume copious amounts of coffee and watch lots of TV in your hotel room.
If you’d like to see what I’ve had to say about AWP in past years, check out this link – https://andilit.com/tag/awp/. 🙂