Okay, little bit of stuff going on life-wise this year and so I will not be making it to AWP (the Associated Writing Programs' annual convention, otherwise known as AWP! AWP! -- shouted out in a background-noise-to-an-early-hip-hop-band kind of way -- or, in song, "I'm off to go a-awping, a-awping, a-awping...") FYI: I think that I might actually be the only person who says "otherwise known as AWP! AWP!" ... and no one sings that song... but that's neither here nor there.
Will I miss it? I will. All the while it's going on I will pine for panels and hotel bars and elevators crammed with sweaty writers. I will pine for the spasms of writers dancing at the AWP dance. (Yes, this is true: there is a dance for writers and it is something that's really deeply experiential. You could try to tape it but the tapes themselves would self-destruct. Seeing is believing.) I will miss tiffs and spats and people trying to dodge old nemeses and, dear hearts, those of you who are looking for the perfect nemesis with whom to start a life-long relationship worthy of both of your talents. (Easier said than done, my friends. Trust me.)
Alas. Because I cannot be there, I am offering you THIS LINK to a beautiful moment from PORTLANDIA -- the perfect pre-AWP pick-me-up.