
The annual AWP Conference can be an overwhelming experience for even the most seasoned attendees. For a first-time attendee, it can also be inspiring. ♦
I’ve always known that I wanted to work with literature in some capacity but could never quite decide on the specifics, until I attended AWP. Through the many interactions that I had with writers, editors, and publishers, I was able to learn about different functions and responsibilities within each position, some of these practical and some more philosophical or aesthetic. People welcomed questions from an industry hopeful, and my undergraduate status seemed to coax a mentor-mentee relationship from those with whom I came into contact. I learned as much from the panelists as I did from the attendees, and I’d highly encourage all undergraduates to seek out similar opportunities for professional growth and fulfillment of curiosity. But for those who couldn’t attend this year’s AWP—or, for those undergraduates unsure if the conference would be useful for them—here’s a little of my own experience as an undergrad taking on AWP 2018, and just a little of what I took out of it.
The panel of published authors—which included novelists Jean Kwok, Mira Jacob, and Sari Wilson; memoirist Elizabeth L. Silver; and short story writer Juan Martinez—took my breath away with their successes but even more with their relatability, as they openly discussed their struggles in writing and how they often felt like they couldn’t produce anything of substance. (Even famous authors experience writer’s block!) In this panel, I took on the mindset of a writer and tested the limits of my own creativity by cycling through my own mental narratives that might get in the way of my work. I jotted down all the tips of the professionals discussing their own struggles in an effort to stimulate later creative output. The most impactful of these tips, and the one that I’ve thumbtacked to the bulletin board above my desk, can be summarized as follows: write something, anything. It can be about your day, your lunch, your left shoe, but as long as it’s something, the wheels will begin to turn. This tip came from Juan Martinez, author of the 2017 collection Best Worst American, but it was echoed by the rest of the illustrious panel. As I tested out the identity of a writer—really, as I gave myself permission to call myself a writer, and to believe it—I took this advice close to heart.
The experiences and illuminations provoked by this seminar could take up an entire article on their own, but the overall theme was one of authenticity and responsibility for one’s identity and, simultaneously, for one’s non-identity. The intersections that an individual stands at (i.e. race, class, gender, sexuality, etc.) allow him or her to tell certain kinds of stories in certain kinds of ways. Understanding the implications behind this power or disempowerment is crucial to cultivating an industry that aligns with ethics in both writing and publishing.
Thinking about these complex issues in the mindset not just of a potential writer, editor, or publisher but from the perspective of an advocate—and as a member of a generation who’ll help decide what the future of publishing will look like—was an empowering experience, and one of the most formative I had at the conference.
Enabling authors to be heard and stories to be told seems an enchanting dream, and Rooney’s passion for her work—publishing beautifully designed and rendered experimental narratives, the kind of books that might not always find a home in commercial publishing—pulsed with every word she uttered. Stepping into her mindset allowed me to understand the nuances of the independent press and its mission, with an intimate perspective than cannot be replicated without face-to-face interaction. That AWP allowed me this access and understanding as an undergraduate student, and still young enough to tailor my academic plan around an eventual career in literary publishing, was an amazing opportunity.
Before attending AWP, I was an English student hoping to continue my relationship to literature. After AWP, I am an informed and determined editor-in-training with aspirations to work in literary publishing. And as for the conference itself, I’ll absolutely be back—as a student again, I’m sure, but don’t be surprised if you find yourself sitting in on one of my own panels some day in the not-too-distant future.