reporting from AWP

If you have never been to AWP, you should go at least once. The panels and readings are wonderful, of course, but also, there is just nothing like being surrounded by thousands of writers all at once. It’s overwhelming, but in a good way.

Yesterday I was able to have lunch with the wonderful Caroline Grant, editor-in-chief of Literary Mama, and the stunning Bonnie Rough, author of Carrier. And then I attended three really good panels: Representing the Erotic in Literary Fiction; The Art and Authenticity of Social Media: Using Online Tools to Grow a Community; and Delinquents, Desperados, and Drama Queens: Managing Unusual Personalities and Unexpected Situations in the Creative Nonfiction Classroom.

I took something away from each of these panels, and was especially interested (as a new tweeter) in the ways the writers on the social media panel used Twitter and Facebook and other online forums to grow their writing communities. Bethanne Patrick (thebookmaven and founder of #fridayreads on Twitter) was one of the panelists, and she (along with the other panelists) had a lot of wonderful things to say about how you can use Twitter to support and help the other writers in your community. I’m sold. I’m there.

And from the panel about managing classrooms, I loved what Hope Edelman said: “We learn from every class we teach.” I think it’s so true. I learn so much from my students—not only about how to be a better teacher, but how to be a better writer and mother.

This morning I’m taking it easy and prepping for my panel, which is this afternoon. That will be followed by a drink with one of my wonderful online Mother Words students, and then dinner with my sister, who is taking good care of me.

I wish I could attend all the panels I’m interested in, but there are simply too many. But I’ll report back tomorrow with an another update. (If I had a smart phone I could be tweeting the conference, as well, but that will have to wait until the next AWP.)

why write?

AWP was amazing and exhausting. When D and the girls picked me up at the airport Saturday night, I squeezed myself in back between Stella and Zoë, and I gave Stella a huge hug, kissing her repeatedly. She went on and on with “Mama, I missed you,” and “I love you,” and “I’m so glad you’re back,” and she happily rattled off the details of her day. But little Zoë refused to look at me, even after I practically gobbled her up. She turned her head to the window, and would not be wooed. We were almost home before I convinced her to smile at me. But as soon as we were inside, she was pulling at my shirt and nursing greedily, as if she had been starving (which she wasn’t). And she nursed on and off all day Sunday and yesterday. (As if she wanted to get her fill before I disappeared again.) Poor thing. But maybe she’s nursing continually during the day because I’m not nursing her at night anymore! D did it! She’s sleeping in her crib ALL NIGHT LONG! On Saturday night, she cried out a few times, but she fell back to sleep on her own, and the last two nights she cried out only once. Hopefully soon she won’t cry out at all, and Stella can move back into her bed. (She’s currently sleeping with us, which is a little tight.)

But even though it was difficult to leave my kids, and especially my nursing eleven-month old, I’m so glad I went to the conference. I finally met some of my virtual friends, like the amazing Susan Ito (whose writing I’ve discussed here), and all of the talented and wonderful Literary Mama folks. I went to their reading Friday night, and it was so lovely to finally hear their voices! They rock!

It’s incredible to be able to be in the same space with so many of my literary heroes! I accosted Scott Russell Sanders in the book fair on Friday, and he was even more gracious and lovely than I expected. Whenever I meet one of my heroes, I always worry that I’ll act like an excited puppy, and that in my effusiveness, it will seem like I just peed on their legs. But Scott Russell Sanders took my admiration in stride, and we talked about what he read at the Loft Mentor Series reading and about the Parents as Writers panel. He said how much he wished he could have been a part of that discussion, and he talked about how having children was one of the things that made him move from writing fiction to writing essays. Being a father heightened his need to make sense of the world, to question what kind of world we were leaving for our kids. And becoming a father made him question why he wrote. (I’m paraphrasing badly here.)

This question—why write?—came up again and again over the weekend, from different people in different forms. Some people write to try to change the world. To change a perspective. To expose our violent history of racism. To help us rethink war.

I’m thinking of Wang Ping’s amazing poem “Dust Angels,” which is about migrant workers in China who only last a year or two in the factories that make jewelry because the dust from metal and stones poisons their lungs. I’m thinking of Shari MacDonald Strong’s essay about raising sons in a time of war in The Maternal is Political. I’m thinking of Eula Biss’ essay “Time and Distance Overcome,” from her new collection, Notes from No Man’s Land, which won the 2008 Graywolf Press Nonfiction Prize. You can read an excerpt of this essay at Harper’s, but I wish everyone could hear Biss read it aloud. I sat among hundreds of people Friday afternoon, and I felt as if I was being kicked repeatedly. I felt as if I would vomit. She’s that good.

I write to discover what I know. I write to survive. I write to make sense of the world around me. And always, I hope that something I have written will help someone, even if it is only one person.

A few weeks ago I asked why you blogged, and now I want to know why you write. Are the reasons the same? I’d love to hear what drives you to your computer or to the coffee shop with a pad of paper and a pen. Why do you write?

reporting from awp

I slept for six and a half hours straight last night! Heavenly. I wish I could have slept even more, but I had to get up and pump. I’ve been pumping and pumping and pumping, which, I’ll admit, has surprised me. I knew still Zoë nursed a lot at night, but I didn’t realize how much she was nursing during the day. I can go only four hours without serious pain. And yesterday I accidentally washed one of the pieces of my pump—one of those critical white flaps—down the sink in my hotel room, and now I can only pump one side at a time. I realize this is TMI for some of you, but being strapped to this thing for hours a day complicates the conference a little. (I’m late for everything and missing some things altogether.)

On the home front things seem to be going well. Zoë turned her nose up at formula and has taken only sips of the whole milk D has tried to feed her, but she’s eating her usual fare: burritos and fruit and peas and pretty much anything else. And she gets one bottle of pumped milk at night. Those meager bags were all I had. It seems silly that I’m dumping bottle after bottle down the sink a few hundred miles away. Ah, well. I miss my girls, but still, it’s good to be here.

I went to the Loft Mentor Series 30th Anniversary reading yesterday afternoon, and it was so good: Charles Baxter, Barrie Jean Borich, C.J. Hribal, Scott Russell Sanders, Sun Yung Shin, and Wang Ping. The Mentor Series program pairs established, nationally-known writers with emerging writers, and it was so cool to see that the once-emerging writers featured yesterday (Barrie Borich, C.J. Hribal, and Sun Yung Shin) are all now successful writers in their own right. And I have to say that it was also a thrill to hear Scott Russell Sanders read about a miscarriage and then about the birth of his first child. He was actually supposed to be on our Parents as Writers panel, but he had to back out because he had agreed to participate in too many sessions, and there is a limit of three (I think) per person. But it felt like his reading was a nod in our direction, and I appreciated that. Oh, and I also adore him.

The mix of voices and subject matter at this reading was perfect, and I think this is a testament to the work of the Loft. Go Loft!

I’ll post more about the Parents as Writers panel in a few days, after I have had a chance to sit down and reflect on it. But I will say what an honor it was to present alongside such talented women!

over at motherlode

Hey, we're reporting from AWP (and by "we" I mean me and the Medela Pump n' Style--more about that later). I'll give you an update on the panel later, as well. It was so fun!

But I wanted to let you know that I'm also over at nytimes.com as a guest blogger on motherlode today. Check it out.