Dear Book World,
The Association of Writers & Writing Programs Annual Conference & Bookfair was held last week in New York. I had a great time. Wish you'd been there.
During a panel discussion last Thursday, I heard author Susan Cheever say, "Catharsis is not what the writer is supposed to have. Catharsis is what the reader is supposed to have." She also said that the relationship between writers and their readers is "like an unrequited love affair." And she said, "Good writing is not self-expression; it's communication."
At the same moment, 15 other panels were taking place at the Hilton and Sheraton hotels in midtown Manhattan, all part of an ongoing, relatively moveable literary feast that had begun Wednesday and would continue through Saturday. Each day, dozens of these panels and readings occurred. In addition, three floors of the Hilton were devoted to the book fair.
In its brochure, AWP invited me to "join the national literary conversation," promising "nonstop literary commotion!"
I had been to AWP before; I'm a writer, I have an MFA and I teach a bit. The business of books, however, is also a big part of my life, so my perspective is skewed. I'm accustomed to book shows and conferences where the dominant species are publishers and booksellers. But all these writers in one place? What a concept. Weeks before the event, AWP had to suspend pre-registration due to hyper-demand. More than 8,000 people attended.
You want "commotion?" The conference brochure promised we could "choose from more than 300 literary readings, lectures and panel discussions on contemporary literature, the craft of writing, publishing and teaching. Browse through AWP's Bookfair, featuring 500 literary presses, journals, editors and publishers. Network with your peers at dozens of parties, dances and literary receptions."
John Irving gave the keynote address. Authors were everywhere, ranging from the famous--Joyce Carol Oates, Mark Strand, A.S. Byatt, Russell Banks, Martin Amis, Amy Hempel, Robert Pinsky--to the midlist (well, let's not name names) to the slightly published and unpublished.
In a way, writers have a home at the AWP conference. They are among friends, give or take. They work; they play. In The Shining, Jack Nicholson's character wrote, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" over and over. If only he'd gone to AWP instead of the Overlook Hotel, he could have had the best of both worlds. The conference is as much a social as an educational event, but--and this is where my business side takes over--it is also a fascinating showcase for publishers.
At the AWP Bookfair, independent and university presses dominated. For those of us who attend BookExpo, this is a nice change. Small presses weren't tucked away in dark corners or at the end of unexplored aisles. Even literary journals got to shine. Although some of the big publishing houses were represented, including
Random House, HarperCollins and Penguin, their booths were
suitably modest.
Gradually, as I roamed the book fair, exhibitors' names began to seem like a found poem: Five Fingers Review, Red Hen Press, Ugly Duckling Press, Toadlily Press, Wordfarm, Tinfish Press, Cave Wall, So to Speak, Bound Off, Slack Buddha Press, New Sins Press, Chicory Blue Press, Bat City Review, Tarpaulin Sky, Sheep Meadow Press, Opium Den, Skidrow Penthouse, Pavement Saw Press, Small Beer Press . . .
The exhibition halls were crowded and noisy; it's hard to define the particular sound of those synchronous conversations.
Reverberant.
That seems appropriate because the din emanated from passion--a curious, irresistible blend of ambition and devotion. Words mattered in that place. And I loved the fact that I saw more young faces than old. I could, if I weren't a fatalist by nature and nurture, have almost felt optimistic.
Controversy exists about the increasing number of writers and decreasing number of readers in our world. MFA in Writing degrees get their share of abuse, and MFAs weren't in short supply among this crowd. Undoubtedly, writers were "on the make" at AWP, looking for connections, for a way in. But reading mattered there, too; maybe just as much, or close enough in these perilous days.
"Catharsis is what the reader is supposed to have," said Susan Cheever. I like the sound of that, and its potential for reverberation. Actually, when Susan mentioned readers and love and communication, I thought quite suddenly that she would have made one hell of a bookseller.--Robert Gray (column archives available at Fresh Eyes Now)