AWP Memories

From what I recall, the writers' conference went something like this....

We drove and luckily avoided all the storms. We stayed in a creepy hotel outside of Cleveland and we listened to audio books and the dog slept the whole time like 13 hours was nothing.

When we arrived, it was time for dinner and Lily Bean & Sophie were reunited. They cuddled. They didn't want to go to the writers' conference.

There was so much snow. It was hard to get out of bed and go. I went and then there was so many faces and names and blurs and beauties. I was overwhelmed and overjoyed...

The conference was insane and wonderful. So many panels. So much talent. So much love. Here's Nick Flynn reading an Alan Dugan poem (an amazing event). 

Milkweed Editions threw a special party with Manhattans. And we brought bourbon from Kentucky. Adam Clay was a king. 

I found some stolen time with Nicole Callihan and Dawn Lundy Martin and Kristin Dombek. We drank pink champagne and we were surprised that the whole thing was legal. 

This was my first AWP with Lucas and now he'll have to go every single year from now on. I just decided.