Days in Los Angeles

attending the AWP writers’ conference

the book haul, more or less

Well, I just got back from hanging with 12,000 other writers (and writing-related people) at the annual AWP writers’ conference. Here’s a run down of the adventure because: 1) it was kinda wild, and 2) I’d love to share with you these other writers doing really cool things.

So, click on a link or two and see what they’re up to. You won’t regret it.

Wednesday

Nothing says adventure like time to kill. I got into the city a day before the conference began and spent the afternoon walking around Silver Lake and Echo Park.

Here are a few pics to set the scene . . .

I like you, too, Los Angeles

Somehow I walked seven miles and Los Angeles is pretty hilly, so I was kind of beat, but my hotel was right next to the old-school movie house Quentin Tarantino refurbished: so I wandered into a 1978 Sam Shepard / Richard Gere flick playing on 35mm film, complete with a Looney Tunes short before the feature. The place was packed.

when in Hollywood

Thursday

One of the best parts about the AWP conference is the off-site readings that various presses and magazines put on at bars and venues throughout the city. Normally that happens at night, but

Adam Voith

’s Little Engines kicked off the whole thing at 9:30am with a reading called, naturally, “Morning, Fuckers.”

It happened in the basement of a liquor store. I didn’t take any pictures. But the first guy I met was holding a loaf of challah and we broke bread together. Seemed an appropriate way to start.

Highlights included

Lexi Kent-Monning

reading from her debut novel The Burden of Joy and

kyle r seibel

’s fully-committed performance of a short story from his debut collection Hey You Assholes.

the book fair floor

Spent the afternoon wandering the book fair floor, meeting a bunch of folks running indie presses—Lanternfish Press, Rose Books, Transit Books, and CLASH books among many, many others.

That night hit up a reading put on by Rejection Letters and House of Vlad Press, featuring the likes of

Tex Gresham

,

Kevin Maloney

and

Aaron Burch

(who publishes HAD and Short Story, Long). It was hilarious.

Wrapped up the night at some German Biergarten with a half-liter of Warsteiner and a gigantic pretzel in front of me. Time to call it.

Friday

I think it’s safe to say that writers, generally speaking, are pretty introverted people. Get enough of them together and, sure, it leads to party time; however, there were plenty of moments throughout the conference when I just wanted to go back to the hotel and take a nap.

But I have to say pushing through that discomfort led to some of the best conversations and connections I made over the weekend. If that’s the one thing I learned from this trip, I’ll take it.

Anyway . . . the party continued.

That night went to an amazing old synagogue-cum-community center to hear poetry from the Kenyon Review, Adroit Journal, Pleiades Magazine. After the reading, the DJ kicked up the music and we ate quesadillas in the parking lot and all felt right.

Saturday

Final day of the conference and I was pretty toast, but couldn’t let the final night slip away. Maudlin House put on an incredible reading featuring the band Movie Club backing all the readers. Definitely the most fun I’ve ever had listening to people read from books.

Sunday

And that was that . . . well, almost. Capped off the urban adventure with a casual hike into the mountains rising above the city—great view of downtown—and all I can say is it was the perfect way to close the whole thing out.

Here’s to all the writers out there making it happen.

(Now read them, seriously.)