AWP No. 9: "An Ex-Loner's Guide to AWP," by Katy Read

BY KATY READ

Soon after arriving at the AWP, I had come up with a title for my blog entry: "A Loner's Guide to the AWP."

Everywhere I looked were writers—excitedly reuniting, hugging, pressing their heads together for snapshots, asking if they'd seen so-and-so yet, making dinner plans.

Me? I wandered alone. I'm a writer too: a journalist and essayist. But I didn't quite fit in; I don't have a big network of teaching colleagues or famous-author friends. I was here to speak on a panel. But aside from my hotel roommate, whom I hadn't met, and my fellow speakers, whom I hadn't heard from yet, I didn't think I knew anybody here.

I stopped for a sandwich and a beer. Across the bar stood a well-known writer originally from Minnesota. She's a friend on Facebook, but I didn't really know her in real life. She was surrounded by a gaggle of obviously good friends. I kept my distance.

Then I got to talking to two young women sitting next to me at the bar—writing students from New York and AWP veterans. Eventually I confessed my socializing dilemma.

The no-nonsense blonde one, Alyssa, vehemently urged me to introduce myself to everyone—everyone!—whether unknown or dauntingly famous. Meanwhile, the theatrical brunette, Gabrielle, bought us all a round of shots.

Armed with both forms of encouragement, I walked over and said hi to Famous Writer Facebook Friend, was rewarded with a hug and a friendly chat. Mission accomplished!

All the next day, I remembered Alyssa's advice. I chatted with random strangers on the bus, in the elevator, in the interminable Starbucks line. If I liked what speakers on panels had to say, I introduced myself afterward and chatted a bit. In the Exhibit Hall, I said "hi" at the Loft booth, bought a mug from the friendly bearded guy in The Rumpus booth, joked with the two young men in matching purple T-shirts at the Yahoo booth (who gave me a free hardcover, useful-looking guidebook on internet writing). At the VIDA booth, a male intern and I discussed the problem of underrepresentation of women in literary magazines. I spotted a guy I remembered talking to briefly at MSP on the way here; turns out he's an editor at Graywolf. I shared a cab with two women and wound up hanging with them at the River Teeth reception. I said hi to a St. Paul poet I knew by reputation and online photos (thanks again, Facebook!) and next thing I knew we were having lunch together. I got to know, and really like, my roommate.

So the convention has been anything but the lonely four days I'd predicted.

Oh, it's not all smooth sailing. I still can't claim much swagger as I make my way through the buzz of what's essentially a giant nightly cocktail party in the hotel lobby. And when a group invited me to join them for dinner, I realized later it was a big mistake to have missed Margaret Atwood's keynote speech for what turned out to be greasy appetizers at a Bennigan's. Sometimes, striking out alone really is the better way.

But these minor disappointments were upstaged by other moments, like the time I shook hands with a talented memoirist with Minnesota connections who excitedly told me she had read and liked my essays. I felt like Sally Field accepting her Oscar.

Alyssa's words will forever echo in my mind when I find myself in a big gathering of strangers. In the end, it's infinitely better to reach out than to walk alone among 10,000 people. All it takes is busting out of your comfort zone. Though a round of shots doesn't hurt.

Katy Read is a staff writer for the Star Tribune and spoke as part of the AWP panel, "Barefoot, Pregnant, and at the Writer's Desk."