AWP 2024 starts in less than a week in Kansas City. Right now, my feeds are flooded with personal invites and event announcements. I have terrible FOMO.
I’m not actually a regular AWP goer. Over the last twenty years I haven’t often had the time or cash to invest in literary shmoozing. Plus, crowded and overwhelming aren’t my jam. If you don’t usually go to AWP either, I understand. Maybe you find it especially hard to justify because, like me, you’re not part of an institution that supports and subsidizes your attendance.
So, what’s to miss? Errrgggg, for me this year, a lot, actually. I was planning to go—I had my pass and a hotel reservation and everything—until life intervened in a big way (circumstances that I won’t go into here).
My new book Pine Soot Tendon Bone—winner of the 2023 Washington Prize, due out this spring—was going to have its pre-launch with The Word Works at AWP. I would finally get to meet the press’s editors and authors in person after all of these months collaborating remotely.
I was also planning to hit the book fair to look for trends, particularly in sub-genres like eco-poetry and hybrid texts, and to discover new outlets that match my poetry coaching clients’ “zones of unique genius” as we call them.
But here I am, moping on my couch, not packing those classic blazers I picked up at the thrift shop with AWP in mind.
Will you all please help me overcome this AWP FOMO?
It would cheer me up so much to hear from you.
Are you attending AWP? Why or why not? Share your thoughts in the comments.
If you ARE attending, would you be willing to share a few takeaways with the Poet to Poet community? Let me know by replying to this post.
(Also, if anyone here still needs a pass, let me know. I have one to gift.)
What do I mean by “takeaways”? Here are a few of mine from last year. (These are also some of the reasons I will consider attending again.)
1. It’s a good place to connect with/extend your community.
Last year I attended AWP because it was in Seattle, the city where I did my MFA. I figured I would see friends and connect with publishers who had supported recent work and thank them—and I did.
In 2023, I found:
As Steven Dunn said: ”This year I gave AWP one more ambivalent, skeptical shot, and I was wrong. That shit was so much fun, and I’d definitely go back. I still think it’s true it’s not the best place to promote your book, but maybe it’s an *okay* place to do it. But mostly I had to change my thinking from AWP having to be about myself and my lil books (that idea is common for how AWP gets talked about), and realize it’s a cool place to kick it with my homies, see some readings, and listen to smart people talk about shit they love, which means I get to learn some shit too.”
AWP’s value isn’t in its hugeness or in the potential for promotion—the dozens of panels every hour, the big group readings, the acres of books in the bookfair. It’s in the accidental meetings, the small moments of connection, the serendipities.
2. Literary publishing is a vibrant landscape.
In 2023 …
I was happy to see so many university presses still going strong, but I was even more excited to see so many independent book publishers that have started up in the last 10 years or are now in a second decade and actively growing their lists.
Though the financial side of independent publishing remains a challenge, publishers are finding ways to raise funds (such as Kickstarters, grants) to publish emerging and seasoned authors alike.
Literary journals’ online presence is growing, and not just because the cost of printing has proved prohibitive for unsubsidized (independent) journals. They’re excited to publish cross-genre work incorporating art, images, sound, and video.
In book publishing, too, publishers are showing increasing interest in hybrid, visual, experimental work. It’s a great time to be working in creative ways on the page (or screen).
3. Some panels really are worth your attention.
For example, last year:
I attended two panels on book promotion. To state the obvious, the marketing landscape has been permanently changed by the pandemic. Tours, readings, and other live promotion activities remain disrupted.
So how can authors and publishers reach more people? The answer isn’t more Facebook ads. It’s this: Be generous. Build a community in whatever way feels genuine to you. The authors on these panels underscored that promotion starts long before a book, with building genuine connections with fellow writers and readers slowly, over time.
And it’s not all about having a big blog or social media presence. It can be this simple: Shine a light on others’ work. Recommend journals and books to friends. Start a reading group. Teach a class at your local library.
Now, at the risk of opening up the floodgates …
Let us know: Are you attending AWP this year? Why or why not?
And if you are attending, I’d be so grateful if you’d share a few takeaways with us. Just reply to this post when you have something to report.
And if you’re launching a new book, or supporting a literary journal or program, or sharing your hard-won wisdom on panels, or just wandering around and bumping into friends at AWP 2024, know that I’m cheering you from my couch.
Upcoming Events / Poet to Poet Community
How to Publish Poetry — Monthly Lunch & Learn
Yes, getting poetry published is challenging—but confusion is optional. You can get clear about what matters and be strategic about getting your poetry published with strategies at our monthly Lunch & Learns. The next one is February 14th. I hope you’ll join us—and bring your questions! Get a free guest pass.
As a self-taught poet and artist, I lack the history of connection with homies, sistas, bros, colleagues, and mentors/teachers that often draws people to AWP. I'm not ashamed of this fact, but it tends to place me in a marginal zone (a term I borrow from science) that I experience acutely when in large themed groups like AWP. I feel your FOMO, which I know from experience is a real thing but seriously, other than a few days of drinking, schmoozing, and spending money there are other ways to chat with friends about writing and poetry, promote your new book, and Poet-to-Poet interviews give you a great way to check out trends. And there is always another AWP...
I went to AWP last year, after a long absence, and I'm skipping this year. Partly it's because the people I'd hoped to see there, none of whom live in my home town, dropped out one by one. But also I have, like you, some issues in my personal life that would keep me from going even if I'd decided to go without my friends. I agree that there are moments of serendipity at AWP, but overall I find it dispiriting and nothing concrete has ever come out of my attendance. I am also a translator, and the annual conference of the American Literary Translators Association is very different--attendance in the hundreds rather than the thousands, and a community that actively supports each other. I have made friends there and I've come away with leads that led to publication. The panels and roundtables are more engaging, more interactive. At AWP, I feel like pond scum, though I've published several books; at ALTA, I feel welcomed as a colleague.