Of course, everybody knows that the AWP annual conference (being held this year in Denver, CO, if you haven’t heard) is all about making connections with other people in the industry, and hearing great authors speak, and discovering wonderful new journals that you’d otherwise never come across. But occasionally, at the end of a long day of intellectualling, you need a small drink to unwind, and so I would like to share, with anybody planning to go to AWP this year, the existence of this bar, mere blocks from the AWP Denver site, that on Wednesday nights will let you flip a coin when you order a drink — and give it to you for free if you guess correctly. (And if yours is one of the few names picked in their monthly calendar on one of the nights during AWP, lucky you — you drink for free regardless!)
I kid, kind of, though anybody who was present at the AWP dance party in Chicago last year will back me up when I say it was a hopelessly messy drunken debacle — and that was an official event.
Anyway, if booze isn’t your thing, you should still consider giving AWP a try: this year the keynote speaker is Michael Chabon (major nerd love); other featured presenters include George Saunders, Sandra Cisneros, and Rick Bass; you can sit in on panels like “Aroused, Parched, and Fevered: The Translation of Sex” (oh my), “Ecopoetics on Colorado’s Front Range: Intersections and Ecotones” (maybe not), and even a roundtable with the contributors to Rose Metal Press’s Field Guide To Writing Flash Fiction, which Brooks raves about below; and, of course, you can stop by and schmooze at the book fair with the hardworking gophers from behind the scenes at Emerson publications Redivider, Ploughshares, and maybe even (gasp) Vernacular. It’s a party not to be missed!
Tags: Andrew · author readings · Brooks · networking · publishing industry5 Comments
Andrew, while I agree that there were plenty of folks whose credo seemed to be, in the words of Descartes (well, Monty Python), “I drink therefore I am,” I object to your declaration that the “dance party” was a mess. I mean, honestly. It’s fine to stand back the whole time with a glass of wine in your hand, resisting the musical rhythms yourself, but honestly–there are crazier things to do than let off steam dancing. I was on antibiotics for a sinus infection and didn’t drink at all the whole week, and I still got on the floor for awhile. What’s wrong with that? Why not–after a day of being ushered from room to room for panels in a hotel that looked like the one from the Shining? Are real writers not allowed to dance?
I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it, and I certainly didn’t say it was a mess — I just said it was a messy drunken debacle, in the same way that I quite affectionately describe most dance parties as messy drunken debacles. And come on, seriously: those AWP dance parties didn’t remind you even a LITTLE bit of senior prom?
For the record, *I* also object to *your* implication that I simply stood in the corner drinking free wine. If you recall, after several glasses of said wine, I attempted to breakdance. Perhaps your memory of the moment was lost by being one of the people who got unfortunately kicked in the head as a result, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen!
Haha–how did I miss that? Ah yes, I was probably asleep in the hotel room surrounded by crumpled tissues and Vicks Vapo Rub. Previous comment about your lack of participation in the Association of Writers’ Prom happily withdrawn.
I would just like to note that for the record, in Chicago I was on antibiotics for a sinus infection AND drank all week long. The dance parties, replete with editors and writers writhing on the dance floor and hoarding drinks from the one hour of “open bar” were, in a word, Epic.
I’ll miss you this year, AWP. But part of being a big drinker, or rather, Networker, is figuring out when to sit one round out.
More for me.