I did the first leg shaving of spring today, and I feel glorious.
Last week I was in Portland for several days for the AWP conference. I took Amtrak by myself and stayed at an Airbnb by myself (for a couple days, until V joined me). The conference itself was good, I learned some helpful things, and it was nice to just be in the company of so many writers.
Initially when I’d been creating my schedule of sessions I wanted to attend, I was a little disappointed by how few names of presenters/panelists I recognized. Where was Roxane Gay, Celeste Ng, Lindy West, Samantha Irby? I mean, they’re all super successful, so I don’t know why I thought they would deign to be at a conference in Portland. But I was pleasantly surprised by so many people I wasn’t previously familiar with. Only a couple of sessions featured an author I knew, but at each one of them I discovered several new writers to follow and learn from. It made me realize that there are actually a lot of ways to be a successful writer, and the NYT Bestseller List (just as an example) isn’t necessarily the end-all, be-all. Similarly, at the conference’s book fair, I realized that there is an incredible number of small presses out there – meaning Simon & Schuster, Random House, et al are not the only games in town. Of course they are the most well-known and can probably provide the biggest book advances, but they aren’t the only options when looking to get an agent and publish a book. That’s still a ways off for me, but it was a cool thing to discover.
You know it was a struggle for me to be social at a thing like this. It really, really was. After a very hectic and overwhelming Day 1 on Thursday, I stayed in and didn’t go to any of the offsite events or parties that were happening, though I followed them on Twitter and berated myself for sitting in the Airbnb and watching Selling Sunset. So on Friday night I told myself I would go somewhere. I ended up at a bar where two literary websites were both celebrating their 10th anniversaries, and where I knew a few of the writers I Twitter-stalk would be. The first hour or so was rough, for partly this reason:
Honestly, how is this supposed to work? I couldn’t decide if the sign was meant to be sarcastic or not because literally how else do you get a drink at a crowded bar. Lines make the world a semi-civilized place. So of course it was anarchy. But eventually I got my vodka lemonade, and on round two, a vodka cranberry. I’m nothing if not predictable at the bar.
I didn’t talk to anyone and no one talked to me for that first hour. I was annoyed about it and decided to avail myself of the chocolate cake on the premises, going outside to sit on a picnic table alone among several twosomes and threesomes and foursomes having gay old times. A girl who looked about my age was also sitting by herself, and so after awhile my two drinks had given me that blessed “ah, fuck it” courage to invite her to sit with me and chat. Reader, you should be so proud of me. We had a great chat and I ended up following her and a few of her friends to a “house party” of sorts in southeast Portland, where I played soccer in the backyard with a 4-year-old child before V arrived in town to whisk me away. It was the kind of weird little adventure I haven’t had in so so many years.
So it was a good trip.
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I’m terrible at segues.
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One of my best friends was diagnosed last week with a brain tumor. She’s having surgery tomorrow for it to be removed. I’m going home to be with her in a couple of weeks, dates TBD. She’s strong. She’s brave. We have every reason to be optimistic, and I am. Just also at an entire loss for words. She’s my sister in every sense of the word, always one of my biggest cheerleaders. So I’m going to be hers.
What I’m Reading:
- One of those lesser-known authors I discovered at AWP was Tyrese Coleman, and I finished her How To Sit in one…sitting (sorry). It was breathtaking.
- Now onto one I’ve been meaning to get to for awhile after hearing it recommended on one of my favorite podcasts, Keep It: King Leopold’s Ghost.
What I’m Watching:
- Tonight we finished season 4 of Schitt’s Creek. I simply can’t recommend it highly enough. Everyone in it is a fucking genius. We don’t deserve Catherine O’Hara. Or Eugene Levy. Or Dan Levy. Or Annie Murphy.
What I’m Looking Forward To:
- Game of Thrones returning in a couple weeks
- Avengers: Endgame, obvs
- V and I are going to take a road trip at the end of April (Vancouver, Banff, Montana) and we’ve planned so little of it, on purpose, to just go and explore do whatever we like.
Sconnie Molly 