--I’M STILL KEEPING ALL MY HOPES UP HIGH 

 

I’m days removed from AWP now. The high has started to fade, though filaments of joy remain, settled somewhere inside my chest cavity like a new organ, pulsing softly.

 

AWP (A Writers Program), or in this case, a juggernaut of some ten thousand scribes, moves from city to city each year like a miraculous carnival bearing gifts for those brave and bold enough to seize them. I say “brave” because most writers are, by nature, introverted, somewhat awkward beings, unused to swimming amongst throngs of humanity—strangers, accomplished artists, emerging writers, students, publishers, teachers, scholars, public speakers, and such.  

 

Most people who attend have a specific mission—find their manuscript a home, connect with people in the writing community, attend panels, fix a plot problem, or simply get unstuck. 

 

I’ve been every one of those examples, this being my 12^th AWP. A person I admire very much wrote me saying, “I guess we’re part of the old guard now.” And maybe she’s right. But the one thing AWP is sure to make happen—if you show up and do your level best to get out of your shell--is rekindle your passion. 

I only remember a single Bible verse: this one—“Lord restoreth unto me the joy of my salvation”—which was written by David when he was in a pretty dark place in his life.

I wouldn’t say I’ve been in a dark place, but it hasn’t exactly been shimmering. Every day I write at least three or four “things,” but for the last several years, unless queried, I’ve sent those nowhere. Hence, they’ve just been dying in my computer.

 

But something happened to me, as it always does when I’m at AWP. Something that’s really difficult to explain to anyone outside of the writing world. For four days, I was dropped into this nether world that is very much like college where you’re surrounded by like-minded people who love, and even crave, the very same things you do—Art. The art of words and language and the distinct beauty they create.  

For instance, I heard Ben Drevlow open up a reading with the booming words, “I am your Trash Daddy,” while proceeding to speak of trash in stunning, metaphorical ways for ten minutes straight while not once glancing at a piece of paper. 

I listened to Tara Campbell read from her phone about a “tired uterus” that made me laugh and swoon and check myself.

Nancy Stohlman’s piece about a lost phone, a lost love, a lost phone number bouncing back and forth in time was riveting, mysterious and mesmerizing. 

And on and on it went. On some scale, everywhere I looked something miraculous was happening, or else someone remarkable was standing mere feet away.

But for me to try to describe this to someone who isn’t a creative junkie? Well, I’m not that talented or articulate. I’d sound like a loon to them, and I get why. Trash Daddy? Tired Uterus? Dude, lay off the psychedelics. 

I can’t expect anyone to understand that one of my favorite parts was being jammed into a single hotel room, reading with thirty jittery, sweaty, awkward writer types. Or the sheer joy of finally meeting Sarah Freligh, who is part gunslinger, part human tornado, and 100 percent brilliance, nearly shouting at me, “Aww, Fuck Len!! It’s you.”

 

To my way of thinking, to my heart, it doesn’t get any better than all that. And so, yes, the euphoria is slipping some now, but where there’s a crack or two, a thick scrim of gratitude fills every vacant space.

 

I loved meeting, hugging or laughing, with every one of these incredibles:

 

Robert Vaughan, Kelli Short Borges, Joani Reese, Katherine DiBella Seluja, Kim Chinquee, Frances Badgett, Jackie Doyle, Lori Sambol Brody, Beth Gilstrap, Elissa Field, J.D. Islip, Luke Rolfes, Kathryn Silver-Hajo, Sarah Freligh, Vallie Lynn Watson, Sara Lippman, Jayne Martin, Brett Pribble, Nina Schyler, Kristen Henderson, Nancy Stohlman, Alina Stefanescu, Jennifer Vulgamore Vanderheyden, Kim Magowan, Michelle Ross, Tom Hedt, Mathieu Cailler, Amy Amarilis, Donna Hilbert, Sarah Chavez, Miette Reader, Sherry Flick, Kona Morris, Tommy Dean, Michael Czyzniejewski, Kai Coggin, Lynn Mundel, Helen Rye, Christopher Allen, Ki Russell, Tara Campbell, Roberto Carlos Garcia, Brenna Kischuk, Josh Gaines, Stephanie Austin, Ben Drevlow, Melissa Flores Anderson, Robert James Russell, Claudia Monpere, Kim Steutermann Rogers, Shaun Anthony McMichael, Joanna Rakoff, Dylan Krieger