Weekend at the Los Angeles Convention Center attending the AWP (Association of Writers and Writing Programs)! I’m intermingling and learning so much from this incredible group of creatives that my mind is reeling. Beautiful fatigue.
From publishers to colleges, professors, writing programs and retreats, to panels upon panels of writers from Jonathan Franzen, Dani Shapiro, Honor Moore, and Aspen Matis – it’s an experience I hope to repeat in the coming years.
It’s incredible what stories abound within humanity. There are times when I think I have an incredible story to tell about my family, my experiences and my conflicts in life, but the depths and trenches people face in life – the horror and the prosecution, stuck in a well where their voice rings out, but no one is listening – or no one believes them, well, it makes me wonder if my own simple life is worth repeating on paper. (It is. All our simple lives are worth the telling.)
There are stories out there, wretched in their creation, stinging in their aftermath, beautiful in realization and in the telling. I can’t believe how much abundance is out there in the world – how the written voice needs to be printed, how our stories must be told.
Amazing world out there.
If you’re a writer and want to be part of a terrific community of writing, and to participate in next year’s AWP conference (not sure where it will be), I urge you to sign up for membership. It doesn’t cost too much, and it’s worth every penny to be part of this collaborative and wonderful group. The conference itself is rich with fascinating writers who share various ideas and experience about various facets of writing.
Meanwhile, I’m letting everything all sink in. Filled up my shoe, as I like to say (and quote Dylan), to bring it to you. To share with writers, and to blog.