Why we're the Family Woo

I found a picture of the master of ceremonies of AWP's All Collegiate Poetry and Flash Fiction Slam. His name is Jim Warner, he teaches poetry in the M.F.A. program at Wilkes, and at the end of the last reading, he ran after me with his card and insisted that I bring all of you to the AWP convention in Chicago next year.

Anyhow...I want to back up a bit and talk about how we acquired Woo-hood, as it were. I hadn't gone to the first All Collegiate Poetry Slam on Thursday night, but I'd heard about it the next morning-- including the faulty math of the judges and the generally chaotic atmosphere. I knew I'd missed something. Particularly, I knew I'd missed hearing some of you read your work.

Frankly, I'm not a slam kind of girl. The idea of a competitive poetry or fiction reading with immediate numerical scoring strikes me as an exercise in public humiliation-- a kind of confessional (often) version of American Idol (and I'm not much of a fan of American Idol). But on Friday night, I stayed up late (for me) until 10pm, and went down to the Flash Fiction Slam.

The room wasn't crowded. I suspect that slams, in general, are no longer quite "the thing" among AWP attendees. They're really exercises in vulnerability. But here were the Community College of Philadelphia students, all sitting in a row, ready to read their fiction, not out to impress anyone in particular. You were fearless. You also were magnificent.

Even before you read, I could tell that you'd acquired a reputation. Warner began a kind of cheerful/annoyed back and forth with Pat (at least I think it was Pat) about her place in the line-up, and when a bunch of you groused, he would refer to us collectively as "Philadelphia," and then, as each of you went up to read and we greeted each member of the home team with a big, fat, WOOOOO!-- well, that tells the rest of the story.

But you cheered EVERYONE who approached the podium, including the initial reader (WOOO!) whose pornographic paragraph scored (I think) a seven out of thirty points, including the girl from Chicago (WOOOO!) who ended her bit with a deliberate fainting spell, and even including the poised fellow who read from what seemed to be a published anthology of short fiction, and got a quick and heart-breaking perfect score from the judges (as he came up for a second perfect round, a half-hearted but distinct response of "woooo.").

I do hope that all of you will post some of what you read during the two slams and the open reading that followed. I also hope you keep in touch with Jim Warner. He seems to want to keep in touch with you. I found his myspace page: http://www.myspace.com/manuscriptradio

Hey...he has a blog as well. I wonder if we're in it.

Leap Year

So this is a Leap Year. Always a weird thing. Extra day. I think that it should actually be a holiday, like a special day where we all take a chance and do something that we have wanted to do but didn't get to, either because we're too busy or we were scared or didn't know how to do it or whatever. Like a National Just Do It Day, but, you know, without Nike making any money off of it.

I guess I'm thinking about this because I tried to approach AWP like that. I'm not really the most social of peoples. Don't get me wrong, I can party like it's 1999 at any time--though I don't party quite the same ways that I did in 1999 (straight-edge unite! or, rather, sober folks, uh, grumble about those drunken youngsters). But meeting a lot of new folks, especially a group of people meeting mostly because they are college educated and "experts," who are all academic-ed up, who have patches on their jackets -- understand, it's not that I'm shy, really. It's that I'm grouchy and I generally figure if I ain't gonna like you and you ain't gonna like me why put us through all that, you know? I'll just go my way, you go yours, and we'll leave the talking about the weather to folks who get paid to do it.

But I decided for the AWP that I wasn't going to do that. All 3 nights there were 6 or so different little "mini-parties;" little gatherings by different journals or writing programs that had a bar, some food, and some sort of general reason for gathering people. Ultimate shmoozing and wandering type of thing. I hate that crap. But I made the concious choice of going out to meet folks. And I usually was pretty damn obvious about it. I would sit at a table of folks who were in the middle of a conversation and just say, "Uh, I hate meeting people and all that but we're all here, let's meet each other."

It went pretty well. Met a bunch of folks from Kentucky, of all places, and got to learn a little about their writing community. Mostly, people would laugh and admit that they hated that kind of thing as well and we would have a connection and something to talk about, and off we went.

There was one party thing though where the people just refused to even look at me. Abso-fucking-lutely refused. Like I never entered the room. I wandered for like 5 minutes, trying to catch someone's eye, before I slunk out. I had to go find people I knew to make sure that I was still, you know, visible. I don't remember the name but I promise you this: I'll check my notes and report it back. Whatever it was, we shouldn't support them, 'cuz they was definitely scared of Black folks, and I was actually smiling when I walked in the room. When I walked in. NOT out. Jerks. Actually, I think it wasn't just Black, it was "not rich folks," 'cuz Sully walked into the room with me. He's smarter than me and he walked right out in about 25 seconds, while I spent way too long there getting nothing back. Everyone, listen to Sully more. But don't tell him I said that.

Ok, what I'm trying to say is that let's use this extra day to try out some new things, or to go back to old things left unused. I met a lot of folks at the AWP, including some folks doing really amazing work in Oakland. They were doing translation of poetry with teens in the Bay Area, helping the teens learn English by having them do translations of Spanish poetry (they were moving into things like Chinese I believe, but were limited for the moment to Spanish). I just thought that was a a pretty cool program: helping the youth learn English, helping them with their own writing and poetry, and getting different writers translated into English. Anytime a program can work on like 3 fronts, I think it's gotta be doing a good job.

Hopefully, I'll be able to stay in touch with those folks, and maybe even find ways to hook up some people I know in Philly with them. Which I wouldn't have done if I hadn't tried something new. As a great man once said, "I love it when a plan comes together."

Let that be a lesson to us all:

Tomorrow, celebrate National Just Do It Day (and give no credit to Nike -- though feel free to give me a shoutout if you feel like it).

Woo.

AWP!

Finally able to download my pictures and get to work on this. Yes, Sully did get me sick, and then my fiancee returned from a trip to India with who knows what that left me laid up as well. But I appear to be better. And my voice is still a little hoarse and deep sounding, so I got that going for me. But it was all worth it--wasn't really thinking this when I was stuck in bed, but really, it's true.



I've been to a lot of conferences and things like that. Not for writing, but for things on globalization or crap like that, or various trainings around non-violence and organizing. By a lot, I mean probably at least 40 or 50. I think that's a lot. If you don't then I feel sorry for you, 'cuz you've probably been to waaaaay too many. But this conference had a cheat from the beginning: Sully and I had a perfect view of Times Square from our window. Seriously, we were like right above the little ball that falls on New Years. I love Philly, Philly is home, but damn, New York can be beautiful. When I've seen photos of NY taken from above, peering down at the cars roaming like little animals across the tiny yet eloborate streets, there's a certain fakeness to it. Maybe because I don't like to believe anything can look that f#cking cool. And it was cool. The room itself was just another hotel room, not bad, but man, that view. So just having little touches like that, which shouldn't count but totally do, made this pretty much the best conference I've been to. NY, winter but not too cold, bright lights, steaming breath, everything in walking distance, that's a good start.



Even better than those little touches, and this isn't corny or whatever -- or if it is screw it sometimes life is corny, in fact there's rarely anything cornier than life itself -- was the Philly crew. While I didn't get to hang out with everyone as much as I should have, for the most part I gotta say Phily was well represented. I have this image of some tight-@ssed perfectly dressed lady from the Main Line or Rittenhouse Square who dabbbles a little in writing being at the conference and saying in an offhand manner to someone, "Well, I am from Philadelphia--" and then random people from N'awlins, Kentucky, Ohio, Illinois, Cali, Maine, and other spots just yelling, "PHILLY!! WOOOOOOO!!!" and the Rittenhouse lady straight up passing out with the shock and strangeness of it all.



Weird things make me laugh.



But that was how we rolled. Philly! Bam. Deal with it.

Okay. So I was going to load a picture from the slams here but can't seem to get that to work. Gonna take a minute and see if I can figure it out right. Anyway, Philly's still in the house.

Woo.

On AWP

This year I attended the Association of Writers and Writing Progams' Convention(AWP) in New York. It was the first time I went to it, or for that matter anything like it. I had been looking forward to going well in advanced, yet it still managed to meet and surpass my expectations. At AWP I expected to learn new ideas about writing, meet the several authors speaking there on panels that I was a fan of as well as finding out about a few I'd never heard of, learn about opportunities for transfering to other schools for creative writing programs, and about possible careers in that field (I'm going to try to write that bestselling novel, but a back up plan is probably a good idea).
Quite a few of the panels I attended at AWP were well done and I learnt a good deal about craft from them. I found learning about other universities to transfer to a bit more difficult. Where as the convention was full of panel lectures on various aspects of writing it didn't provide such a straightforward approach to learning about creative writing programs at other schools. There was a large bookfare at AWP with tables from various universities across the country and a few from around the world. Some of the people working these tables were very friendly, but there were also those who couldn't care less about selling you on their college. I found this made it somewhat frustrating to learn about other universities, but I'll focus more on that in a later post.
One of the best things about AWP was just being in a creative enviroment. It's hard for me to articulate just what I mean, but there is something about being surrounded by other creative beings that makes it easier to write. It's the same kind of energy I can sometimes get out of creative writing clubs or workshops or out of a good creative writing class. They are creating and so I want to create. Like I said, I can't really explain it, but I spent a good deal of my spare moments, between panels or whenever I had a free minute, writing longhand in the black spiralbound notebook that was my constant companion throughout the convention. It was just nice to be somewhere where I wasn't worrying about life, school, and the usual stresses of normalcy, and felt like writing.
There was also something nice about going somewhere where I didn't feel like a fool telling people I was a writer. When people ask what I want to do when I "grow up" I usually say in a hushed voice, "I want to be a writer," and hope they don't hear and don't care enough to ask again, so I don't have to go into further detail with people who are still going to be skeptical about what I have said, no matter how I justify it.
As I said, AWP went above and beyond the expectations I had for it. I felt it was a good enviroment for any writer, aspiring or otherwise, to be in and would highly recommend that anyone who can attend it in the future does so. Next year it will take place in Chicago, which is a good deal further away than New York but still a lot closer than a lot of places that it could possibly be.

My sickness is my own!!!

OKAY OKAY..I withdraw some of my last post, the part about Sully sickness making it's way to me. He didn't get me sick, I just wanted to get in on the joke and since I was sick...but like I said, he was not the culprit. Just a joke. Any who, wanted to talk a little more about AWP in NYC.

I was so happy and satisfied with my panel selections. They were all informative and...well actually, my selections weren't as good or beneficial for Saturday. I decided to go to a panel about imagery because after reading the blurb I assumed it was about writing imagery, a good time to use it, etc. but I was wrong. I think that panel was a little more useful for illustrators or artists of that nature. I did happen to see Kelly there asking all kinds of educated questions but like I said, there was no point in me being there but I was so looking forward to it that I'd gotten there a few minutes before it started (you kinda had to do that for each panel if you wanted a decent seat b/c there were sooo many people) and sat in the very first row. I didn't want to just get up and walk out in the middle of their presentation. I had another incident like that on the same day as well.

Besides the last day though, all the panels I went to will serve it's purpose for me one day. Okay now, gotta go. I will soon return.

Gracie in New York Post 6

2/23/2008

It’s Friday morning. It is 7 am. I think we went to bed at 3.

This is the first morning of the MANDATORY 8:30 am meetings with Kelly and Simone. And although, I swear I understand the necessity, I much rather still be lying in bed. Thank goodness for Starbucks (which happens to be strategically located in both the Hilton and Sheraton Hotels.) The chiefs do a head count. I’d like to tell you what was said but it is all a distant fog, as it was then. It didn’t help to be staring at a plastic container of fruit either. Breakfast may be the most important meal of the day but, right now, it just looks like a Picasso painting by Dali on the table.

I’ve set up five seminars. I’m pumped.

First, the logistics. We are at the Sheraton New York, directly across 57th Street from the Hilton Hew York, the conference headquarters. This means that most of the seminars, meetings and workshops are a building away. First order of business is to find a short cut across the street. We find one, through the garage, and manage to save about 10 steps and about fifteen seconds out of the cold. (The weather, however, was very kind to us. We got to the point where we even left coats in the room.)

My first seminar of the day is “On the Road – Planning a Book Tour.”

Thaddeus Rutkowski (at the podium and left to right) Jeffrey Ethan Lee , Ruth Thomlinson, Janice Eidus and Douglas Light

It is guerrilla marketing on the road. It seems if you are lucky to get published, there probably won’t be enough money, publicity, accessible market or a diehard advocate to help promote your book. There is only and mostly just you, the author. So, not only must you write a good book but you must also help market it. Now, it is a hard process but not as daunting as one may think. The trick is to use the resources available to you as an author, many of which are free.

1. There is the “blog.” Set one up and invite your friends and encourage your friends to invite theirs.
2. Start a website and post the link on the “blog.”
3. Find “blogs” to join or visit. Google by theme or genre and then let these folks know about your book and the tour.
4. Visit the local bookstores, network like you’re corporate.
5. Get this, post a YouTube video of you reading your material or/and produce a podcast.

Now to the reading itself. The most important suggestion was to attend a few tours or readings BEFORE you do your own. Take notes on what works and what didn’t for the author. Set a few goals for your tour. One of the obvious ones is to sell books but there are others such as to establish a following or to solidify a business relationship with the store.

I got the feeling that this was a step above selling the books out of the trunk of the car. Considering the proliferation of virtual bookstores, the suggestions were the kind that will be an “Ah-ha” moment when your publisher requests you to “help with the marketing.” And, by all accounts, he or she will.

Ah, a Postscript:

Try to check out the comments to the posts, too. The comment to this post has great information about the panelists.

Frank McCourt

On the same eveing that we all were going to dinner I got the pleasure to see Frank McCourt, the author of Angels's Ashes and Teacher Man, read. I had to step out towards the end, to make the dinner plans, but it was fascinating to hear the author read his own words. Mr. McCourt was funny and poigant. It was a refreshing change from some of the stuffier panals. And to cap off the evening I enjoyed a wonderful steak dinner at Azaleas where i met and had an enjoyable conversation with Simone's Husband. To top off the the dinner I had had a delectable Tiramiso.

AWP Sickness Not my fault

Listen I will only take credit for Martin. The poor guy got stuck with me. The rest of you have no resonible suspicion that it was i that got you sick. Tiff maybe, because she was dreaming about me, but the rest of you. . . Keisha I didn't even see you. You got sick from the other wretched people of AWP. I am not guilty. Since i Didn't get yous sick; You must acquit

AWP Sickness Not my fault

John Irving

On the first evening of AWP Joh Irving, the author of such contemporary classics as The World According to Garp, The Hotle New Hampshire, and The Cider House Rules, gave the conferences Keynote address. I have long been a fan of Irvings and the Mantras "Get Obssessed and Stay obssessed" and "Keep passing the open windows" Both from Hotel New Hampshire are repeated frequently in my life. I attended the address with the lovely Tiffany, the equally charming Pat/Gracie and the wildman of AWP Thom. After almost getting into a fight with the most obnoxious girl over my humming a few bars from a Pixies song we finally got seated and settled. Remember Tiff some people like some quit before the speaker comes on.
When John Irving came on forty minutes later he discussed the importance of plot in modern fiction. He told the audience that he knows the last sentence of the story first and from there works backwards to the beginning. This interested me because that week i had read an excerpt from Flannery O'Conner which basically said the exact opposite. Seeing i am a fan of both writers i decided thaqt both were right. maybe a story needs to unfold like O'Connor said, or maybe it needs to be carefully plotted out like Irving convincing discussed. I think in my writing I will try both and figure out what works best for me, either way if they turn out half as good as either of thier stories I figure ia m doing pretty good

AWP

I dont't know what happened to my Feb 20 entry. it seems to have gotten lost in cyberspace.
Lckily I haven't, though it was a rough ride to get here. My reactions to the AWP conference?

A-Awsome, W-Wonderful, P-Pertinent!

More later, I promise.

Keisha's 1st -very late but won't be the last- post

Sorry it took so long but if you are anyone who knows me you know that I have the bad habit of procrastinating. Also, it's Sully's fault, his contagious AWP sickness finally made it's way to me!

Aside from that and more on AWP! It was a great experience. I like to consider myself an up and coming writer, learning the in's and out's of the whole writing industry so to be among so many established writers was incredible. Before I realized that I really wanted to write novels, I believed that anyone who had a book out on the shelf in a store had to be doing something right, you know pleasing their audience and that they were making mad money doing it. I always thought they were like VIP. And even though I now understand that not many people actually make a living out of writing, and some may not be well known as others, I still thought it was an incredibly big deal to be there. I learned a lot from the panels.

Another great thing that I got out of attending AWP, was my first trip to NY!! I know, I know, it's pretty lame to be a twenty year old college student and never traveled to NY...but guess what? NOW I HAVE!!!! I had a great time too, especially the last night @ the open-mic. I'll comment on that the next time though.

AWP Recovery

Two weeks after the fact, I finally managed to spend a day in my bathrobe, still hacking away (I caught Sully's AWP cold, and apparently, so did Martin and Tiffany), and add a little to this blog. I have to say that all of you have managed to capture quite a bit here, and one of the best things about this experience was that (in spite of my Mama Woo name), I could watch you all from a distance. I would see you taking notes during panels, or floating around the book fair. I would run into one of you in the alcove near the elevators. But aside from the occasionally cell-phone call (sometimes actually to ask if I'd like to join you for something or other) you were self-propelled!

This was my sixth AWP conference in a row. I went to my first one in Spring 2001, thanks to Kelly McQuain who organized a panel on "Creating a Tw0-Year College Writing Program." Interestingly enough, at that stage we didn't actually officially have a writing program at the time. Since then, I managed to either invent or insert myself into panels on everything from something called "Erotic, Neurotic, Psychotic: New Jewish Fiction" to "Rock, Paper, Scissors: Sharply Different Methods of Teaching Creative Writing to Underprepared Students" (this one was with colleagues from CCP: see this link to find out what we had to say: http://faculty.ccp.edu/dept/viewpoints/w07v8n2/intro.htm ).

But this one was clearly different. For one thing, it was twice the size. For another thing, the hotel rooms were twice as expensive. And, of course, I was bringing eight students.

I'll respond to their own posts as I see fit. But one thing I ought to mention is that, in spite of stafing the Two Year Caucus table, selling Writer/Teacher tee shirts, and learning (for the first time) to use a cell-phone, I did manage to get quite a bit from this conference. I actually shook the hand of my heroine, Cynthia Ozick.

No, I don't just like her because she looks like me.

After I heard her read part of an extraordinary story called "What will We Do About the Baby," I had to slip away to meet up with the other Woos for dinner. Afterwards, I had a debate with myself. I'd managed to get an invitation to a VIP party at the Hilton penthouse (a fellow two-year Caucus member was on the board and wanted to thank me for some work I'd done). The reception started at 10pm-- the same time as the open reading. I'd missed one of the slams, attended the other, and was pretty much determined not to miss the open reading, particularly since EVERYONE promised to read something, including Gwyn.

So I had to choose-- penthouse party with a stunning view of New York and classy free food and drink OR hearing the family Woo read. Those who know me will understand that I chose to be in two places at once.

Thus, I raced to the party, climbed the winding stair-case, looked at the pretty lights, made small-talk with the one person I knew there, and kept checking my watch. The place was like a set from a Carol Lombard movie, all white, with white couches. With the right set of people, it could have been a pretty wild scene (this wasn't the right set of people). I was trying to figure out how soon I could leave. Then I turned around, and unmistakably, there was Cynthia Ozick.

I felt all the blood rush to my head. Then, looking down (I'm 5'2. I think she's 5' even), I said, "Ms Ozick?"

"Cynthia," she replied. Her voice was beautifully modulated, and her eyes looked like ET's.

"I just want to tell you how much your work meant to me. Your story 'The Shawl', it's rhythms... it was a huge influence on my novel, Louisa."

"Mae Alcott?" she said, tilting her head slightly.

"Oh--- Oh-- Jo March is a heroine of mine. But alas, that's not what the novel is about..." I said, blathering for around fifteen more seconds attempting to describe the one book of mine she might have heard of before peetering out, and receding back towards the elevator.

Anyhow, then, I went down to the Open Reading. But that was another story.

Gracie in New York Post 5

2/13/08

Martin signed up for the Poetry Slam at 10. So, after the Irving fiasco, it was just about that time. I had never been to a poetry slam of any kind at any place. It's like March Madness with words, the U.S. Open in verse, getting to the Super bowl without cheating...uh reading the other poet's works first.

Personally, I was fascinated at how popular the genre is. It's not like the New York Time's is running a best seller list or anything for hot poets. And, I was also surprised at how well defined many of the images were. But the most enjoyable part, besides Sully trying to keep the judges moving along, was the passion in the work. I also picked up that the more you slam as a performance instead of a reading, the better you will do, even when the judges are using their fingers and toes to count the score.

All we needed was matching t-shirts with “CCP’s The Family Woo” emblazon across our backs. We came ready to “represent” and a fine job of representation we did. It ended up being about four rounds. And as with all contest, it got really interesting with each advance of our favorite.
I don’t know if Martin came with four ready-to-read poems or if he came with a couple and wrote a few more. I do know he was awesomely prepared. He ditched us to get ready.

The readings went faster than the vote tallying. The audience offered the judges calculators. Then it occurred to me that these were literary people. They probably spent most of their adult life avoiding math of any kind. Finally, despite our attempts to speed up the process, there were two finalists: Jeffrey Stump and CCP’s own Martin Wiley.

Now, to tell you the truth, I was pretty tired by 10 pm but I was alert enough to know the difference between poetic imagery and performance visuals. In this forum, performance visuals won out and, guess what; the winner was a performance artist. Not at all implying Mr. Stump was not good. Martin read his poetry the way we had been seeing poets read their works all day. Mr. Stump performed and in the end the judges were mostly watching, not listening. As is evident when you consider they were having severe difficulty averaging sixty points. (It’s almost impossible to divide other people’s fingers and toes.)


None the less, Martin and Jeff hit it off wonderfully and I have the picture to prove it (although, this was the day after :-)

Martin and Jeff Stumpo

The All Collegiate Afterhours Poetry Slam Winners

With our winner in tow, we left the arena and made our way to the neon decorated streets of New York determined to find something for Sully to feast upon, again. (We had found a pizza parlor earlier.)On the corner of 7th Avenue and 57th Street, Thom sent us looking for BB King’s Restaurant. And although I was pretty sure skunk was not one the menu, I got an address. Tiff figured out how to enter the start and end points. The directions returned and we headed down 7th Avenue after having left a pretty memorable mark on the All Collegiate Afterhours Poetry Slam at the 2008 AWP Conference in New York.

Gracie in New York Post 4

2/12/08

Ah....bonding. It is a wonderful thing. Where once you felt like a duckling following a bunch of other ducklings, you now swim that pond like you've had oiled feathers for a lifetime instead of, ohh, six hours with the absolute certainty that you will see those ducklings again. After texting each other to make sure Keisha had arrived, we all went our merry ways, carefree yet determined to take advantage of this opportunity, especially when we found out how much one night at the Sheraton went for...even with the discount.

The first seminars for me had been great. The expectations were high for the keynote address. Unfortunately, things were a little, well; let's just say the keynote speaker spoke about everything concerning the keynote speaker.

John Irving is a fine writer, not that I should have the audacity to pass any opinion whatsoever about a writer with 12 books and 3 films under his belt. However, I was expecting more of a "from my (John Irving's) perspective, AWP is a beacon (yeah, yeah cliché) of excellence and support for all writing professionals" kind of speech. Instead, I sat through what had to be a first draft of a new book, unless it just reads aloud sluggishly, and a few anecdotes of how "you must know your ending in order to write a novel."

Granted, if I'm going to the store or BB King's restaurant, I probably should know where I'm going to end. But I am still naive enough to believe that at some point all those characters and ideas form their own energy and pretty much takes me to an ending. Now, I may rework it, revise it or ditch it all together but I don't think I knew it was coming before I wrote the first word.

Or maybe I missed his point all together. I couldn't ask him though because his posse escorted him out the side door as soon as he finished the somewhat Hollywood story of his ex-wife, her boyfriend, a law suit and a ceiling fan. So, there are no pictures of John Irving. And I realize I am taking pictures of those things I want to remember.

Gracie in New York Post 3

2/11/08

Well, the end of Mr. Kinnell’s talk and reading was a bonus for Tiff and me. It is always good when your first experience is a positive one. So, remaining in our seats looking forward to Ms. Joyce Carol Oates, we were filled with high expectations.


The Grand Ballroom of the New York Hilton is an enormous room. The stage, which is directly center as you enter, was set with a podium at stage left and two chairs at center. This ended up being the set up for all the “Conversation with…” events. A back screen of about 15 feet high and a good thirty feet long reminded us of where we were (the AWP NYC 2008)and what it took to put this shin-dig on (it had to be at least thirty or forty sponsors listed) It was “The Actor’s Studio” for writers and Ms. Oates didn’t let us down.

She was gracious and dressed like a character from a Tim Burton movie. As a matter of fact, she looked like a character from a Tim Burton movie. So for the afternoon, about 400 guests sat in her makeshift living room, we listened to Ms. Oates remind us what a bold and daring lot we, writers, are.

She began by reading passages from “The Garden of Earthly Delights” and “The Wanderlust Quartet”. I can’t remember the readings. I do remember the advice. For Ms. Oates, the key to good writing is in the revision. By her account, revising can help break through writer’s block. “Revising earlier works can help you capture the enthusiasm for writing something new,” says Ms. Oates. “It is the process where the writer’s ego is restrained so that the characters can breathe.”

Ms. Oates has an eclectic list of favorite authors; Hemmingway, Lovecraft, Mansfield. As such, she lives by her advice to all writers, “You can’t be a writer unless you read.”

I, we, were in “The Big Apple” at the “Hot ticket” conference (it sold out) for about five hours and already I received encouragement from an established author and an introduction to poetry by a poet whose writings I could imagine. Day one was excellent. John Irving reads and speaks later in the same ballroom. I will learn from that experience there are humble writers and there are “Rock Star” writers and you can choose which one you wish to be. A more detailed experience of Mr. Irving’s presence will be posted in the future. Right now, we’re just remembering the “happy times.”

The Family Woo, however, meets after the final Thursday readings and we are dismayed to find out that hunger has Sully asking for delicacies that may be unavailable in New York. However, it is Thom who comes to the rescue suggesting B.B. King’s restaurant. We stand at the corner of 7th Avenue and 57th Street looking very much like tourists. Not one of us knows exactly where the restaurant is located but thanks goodness for overpriced Christmas gifts. The iPhone is our friend as collectively we figure out how to use the “maps” function. It works. Alas, BB’s is closed but there is an Appleby’s across the street. Sully is quieted down considerably and we all manage to find something on the menu to eat.

And the lesson for Thursday is that not even New York is open twenty-four hours, no matter what anyone says.

Gracie in New York Post 2

2/8/2008

Since our last meeting, so to speak, the family "Woo" arrived on time, in high spirits and considerably tired. Kelly had dutifully held reading lists conferences so the class work was out of the way. We had gorged on soft pretzels and arrived at Penn Station in the afternoon. The station looked nothing like it did the last time I saw it. (We will not get more detailed than that.) We loaded into cabs and headed for the Sheraton New York.

Green, maroon and navy seem to engulf everything and everyone in the lobby. And it was all held together with a pristine white marble like floor. I refuse to believe it was real marble. Simone laid out the meet every morning at 8:30 rule. For the superstitious among you, we were all on the 33 floor which probably would make a pretty good title for something.

Some of the rooms where not ready yet , so Simone was kind enough to allow us to stash our bags in her room with a 3:30 pm rendezvous time to get them. After settling in, that left Tiff and I just enough time to catch the end of Galway Kinnell's reading.

The poets among us will probably know the name. I, to the chagrin of Tiffany, was clueless. (Thank goodness for Google.) I came to hear Joyce Carol Oates.

However, Mr. Kinnell's words would probably do well to be heeded by all writers no matter what the genre. For young poets, his advice is to:

"Stay aware of your senses. Stay aware of your surroundings. The art of poetry is an exercise of the senses."

He wore the poets' attire: an elderly collegiate look of a dark suit, blue shirt, understated tie and the best looking tan leather briefcase I've seen in awhile. But, what I noticed most was the aura of accessibility that was around him. In the coming days, that attitude would be so important for a novice writer who is more comfortable with the written word than the spoken one.

Monday: Joyce Carol Oates, Skunks, iPhones and There is a Wrong Night to go out in New York City. no matter what anyone tells you.

What did it feel like being at AWP?--from Kelly

What did it feel like being at AWP?

Did it feel good to be a part of so many like-minded souls, or were there a lot of posers? Who seemed genuine to you and who seemed like a writerly cliche? Did you make any new friends?

I was fortunate to see a lot of old classmates and instructors. My old pal Jennifer and I got to hang out and reminisce about the time we spent writing in Madrid. If any of you want to find out more about her low-residency writers program now in Mexico, her email is jstewart@mac.com.

Usually being among so many writers is stressfull and exhausting. But this year I found the panels inspiring and uplifting. Now if I could only find more time to write!!!

Gracie in New York Post 1

2/7/08

The Family "Woo"

Sully, Keisha, Gwyneth, Marvin, Patricia, Tiffany and Thom

(we misplaced Martin, but we found him later)

I must admit, I was apprehensive in the beginning about spending 4 days with 10 complete strangers but I wasted that mental state. The AWP conference with CCP was a most exciting and fun experience. A few of us read in front of an audience for the first time. One of us came in second at the Poetry Slam (the overall consensus is the judges couldn't count). And, five of us shared Sully's cold. I found out other uses for skunks (although, I probably won't indulge). The iPhone gives excellent directions to BB King's Restaurant, as long as someone with good eyesight is reading the map.

We covered a multitude of seminars and readings. I know this because I didn't run into my classmates too often, despite rumors to the contrary. As representatives of one of the writing programs of this conference, we did CCP and the family "Woo" proud.

I witnessed the uniform of a writer with 12 books and 3 films (you must wear black, sport silver gray hair and never let anyone forget that you have written 12 books and 3 films). I fell in love with poetry, at least the works I was privileged to hear read by their authors. I watched my classmates write spontaneously and marveled at their ability to put what they felt into words so quickly.

In the coming entries, I'll post pictures and the good advice from some well-known writers and writing professionals. The posts will be numbered in the title and dated in the body.

Sully@AWP

AWP was a great experience. The panels were informative and the readings were entertaining. Of course I got Brochitis and coughed through the entire weekend, but all in all it was a great time.
Sully
P.S. Does anyone know where I can get some quality skunk

who the member authors are for our blog

dissidentpoet@hotmail.com, sullyfire14@yahoo.com, pat@plblack.net, kgabbid1@ccp.edu, sistervigilante@yahoo.com, gbacon3@ccp.edu, tkaten1@ccp.edu, mpowell2@ccp.edu, kmcquain@ccp.edu, szelitch@ccp.edu


These are the email addresses that I have used to invite people to the new CCPstudentsAWP blog. If you had trouble joining, you should use your email account above, not a different one.

To login, go to ccpstudentsawp.blogspot.com and use your email address and make a password. You can later edit your profile as you see fit.

Getting started...& Kelly's thoughts on AWP

2/6/2008


To get started with posting information on this blog, use the tools on the toolbar in the upper right corner. See something called NEW POST? Well, in a minute, click on it. When you do, it will open up a new message window, which is where you will post information. Each of you should create a NEW POST with a title like "Kelly's thoughts on AWP" so we will know whose page is whose. Once inside the message window, you can also add photos. To add photos, there is an icon that looks like a tiny square photograph. Click on it to add a photo. That's how I added this picture of me. You can use the icon to add a picture of YOU at AWP!


Later on, if you want to write an additional entry, you can simply click on add a comment and post it under your initial entry. Other people can also comment on your initial posting. You can also edit your NEW POST later on--at least I think you can (I could do so). But it may take some playing around with the various functions to get the hang of it! Experiment. If you worry you will lose something you have written, compose it in Word and cut and paste it in to the Message Window.

And remember, the message window for Postings allows you to save as a DRAFT or to go ahead and PUBLISH POST to the blog. So be sure you select the one you want.

The only way you will really screw up is if you don't try, so give it a shot!

If you are wondering WHAT to write about in terms of AWP, how about starting with your MOST MEMORABLE MOMENT?

What Was Your Most Memorable Moment? Describe it for us! Was it someone you met, something you attended, or something you discovered? Let us know!!! Also, be sure to date and sign your postings so we can all better keep track of who wrote what and when!

--Kelly McQuain, 2/6/2008