Dear Poets,
“Gird your loins” was my beloved high school French teacher’s favorite expression. (Only now realizing she never taught us the French equivalent to this phrase.) It has stuck with me through the years and I’d venture that a deep dive into its origins might yield an intriguing poem. Mrs. Pearl Chiari claimed that my profile of her for the school paper was the reason she won Teacher of the Year way back when at North Miami Beach Senior High school but I think it was her charming charisma, ardent Francophilia, and passionate enthusiasm for teaching. She was the only teacher I ever had who insisted students call her by her first name and she referred to us as “her Pearls.”
All this floats back since AWP—the largest national creative writing conference—begins on Wednesday night and runs full throttle until Saturday evening. This year it is in Kansas City. I have been digging through my closet for the remnants of my cold-weather clothes, so far only finding some moth-eaten gloves. Rejoice local friends, next year it bounces back to Los Angeles. We can load up our trunks with last-day book fair hauls and be the hosts for off-site readings, unintimidated by traffic and transportation in a city where we’ve never been.
Feelings about AWP run the gamut. The conference usually has about 10,000 attendees, impossible as that sounds. One infamous year, when it was held in NYC, tickets ran out and a parallel ‘off site’ conference sprang up. Now AWP lists the vibrant ‘off site’ schedule on its website so attendees can choose from the 25+ events happening concurrently from dawn to midnight for three days straight. By Sunday there is a such a collective sense of being wrung out people drag themselves to the airport, suitcases weighed down with books, journals, literary swag, and need a month to digest it all (at least). Let me link to last year’s post “Ahoy AWP” where I listed my best tips for wading through this experience. In brief, carry your phone charger, bring a refillable coffee mug, plan in advance so you can prioritize what you want to see/do, and try not to get overwhelmed.
For some, AWP is largely a reunion with grad school pals (conference lore includes how one year the main hotel bar ran out of alcohol), for some it’s a networking smorgasbord, for some it’s a homecoming in which they finally meet their editors/publishers in person, for some it’s an academic experience. I used to call it an “MFA in three days” if you followed a particular track, say attending as many poetry or fiction panels as you can. Others will follow a more ‘practical’ track—attending sessions about how to find an agent, promote your first book, get the inside scoop from editors. Figure out what you want and then pursue those offerings.
I expanded on this in last year’s post, but AWP can also awaken a kind of dark night of the writer’s soul. I used to joke that seeing authors sitting at their publisher’s booth to promote a new book was like reading the NYT’s wedding pages: a public announcement of achievement/arrival, polished product in hand, and no mention of the strife, grief, or torment it took to get there. This is a moment to celebrate but depending on where you are with your own ambitions, it can stir a cauldron of competing feelings. It’s good to take note of where you are with it all—and hopefully use the conference (or its aftermath) for inspiration—maybe in ways you didn’t even realize you needed.
If you are going, feel free to be in touch! And come to my panel if you can. I am presenting on Thursday from 12:10-1:25, Room 2102A (#T165) on “Getting Non-Writers to Write: Teaching Outside the English Department” and will largely be talking about teaching through Writing Workshops LA and independently, as well as the variety of workshops I have taught outside of the academy.
I hope to also read (depending on timing) at the AWP launch of Transformations, a Women Who Submit anthology in which I have two poems.
Locally, you can catch me at the Altadena Library on February 27th at 6 p.m. reading with other former ‘local laureates.’
And let me give a shout-out to current co-laureate, Carla Sameth, who is launching her full-length poetry collection Secondary Inspections on Sunday, February 25th (2 p.m.) at Underdog Bookstore in Monrovia (312 S Myrtle Ave).
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention there are still a few days left to apply to be one (of two) Altadena Poets Laureate! Feel free to reach out with any questions. This is an important gig/joy and chance to promote literary citizenship. Application details here.
Lastly, I mentioned in my December newsletter I was circulating a new essay about holiday cards. I am pleased to say it ran in LA Parent just before the end of the year:
“Family Holiday Cards: Mom Stays in the Picture.”
Sharing with you:
This event caught my eye: Poet Ellen Bass will be speaking about her experience with publishing. Feb. 7th, 4 pm PT/7 pm ET. It will be live-streamed on Facebook. And she is part of this (free) festival with lots of classes and readings: Soul Bone Literary Festival from Feb. 12-25.
Another bonanza of Zoom writing talks, readings, classes starts Feb 10th and runs through Feb. 16th. Check out the schedule for UC-Riverside’s Writers Week and sign up for what you will.
This is a tremendous (free) resource put together by Emily Stoddard. Download her meticulously researched 2024 Poetry Manuscript Opportunities spreadsheet. But also be sure to read her report “2024 Poetry Book Publishing: Data, Deadlines, and a Tool for Your Submissions” which is a provocative and thoughtful look at accessibility, equity, and what has improved—and not improved—in terms of publishing since last year. Scroll down to see my comment and her response. I really value this kind of frank conversation that challenges the status quo and pulls back the curtain on cost, privilege, and how/who is rewarded.
One of the very few times I have seen Vroman’s—my local, independent bookstore—move an author event to a larger space was when Chris Guillebeau was reading. I’ve followed his work for years—mainly admiring his insistence on remaking a career into what you want it to be and watching him achieve his goal of visiting every country on this earth. Always reinventing what he does, his new project is called “A Year of Mental Health” and this post “Prune Your Calendar” really spoke to me.
Another Substack I have touted before is Nancy Reddy’s Write More, Be Less Careful. This recent interview with poet Cynthia Marie Hoffman on her ‘memoir in prose poems’ (Exploding Head) contained some excellent advice on putting together a manuscript and I loved seeing her color-coded chart. I will be looking for her new book at AWP.
Finally, I saw someone post this poem earlier in January and it struck me as a very New Year’s kind of piece. Sure enough, it ran in the NYT in early January a few years back. I don’t know this poet’s work but will absolutely seek out her book this week at AWP.
I’ll leave you with this sentiment. This J.D. Salinger quote always makes me smile. Stay dry & keep writing.
As always, I hope to hear from you! ✍️
Love this newsletter.