Reflections of AWP 2022: An Aspiring Writer Goes to Philly
By Mae Fraser
Ding! The “seatbelts on” light turned on as the American Airlines plane accelerated down the runway. I grabbed onto the chair's armrests as we were sky bound, my stomach dropping as we went up, up, up into the clouds. Once the cabin stabilized and my stomach wasn’t threatening to make its way up into my throat, I took a deep breath through my black paper mask. Just an hour and 30 minutes to Philly; an hour and 30 minutes until we landed in a new city with a new experience that was about to unfold.
The Association of Writers and Writing Programs, or AWP, is a literary conference that is held annually. People come from all over the country to promote their literary magazines, journals, MFA and MA programs, presses, publishing houses, and more. Thousands of people attended this year’s conference in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, including some SSU students and faculty.
I was very fortunate enough to attend this year. Flying down with five other peers in the English department, along with Professors JD Scrimgeour and Kevin Carey. The conference and our hotel were right in the middle of downtown Philadelphia, surrounded by the Reading Terminal Market, Love Park, and down the street from Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell. After landing in Philadelphia and having a hurried race via Uber to the hotel/convention center from the airport, it truly hit us. We were there and we were actually going to this conference, right here, right now.
All eight of us were tired, hungry, and excited for the day to truly begin. We threw our belongings into our rooms (after getting lost trying to find said rooms in the labyrinthine hotel that was the Marriott) and went to check into the conference as fast as we could. Once registered and checked in, to the bookfair we went. Upon walking into the conference hall where the bookfair was held, all of the exhaustion and hunger fell away from my body, replaced with excitement and wonder. Hundreds of booths set up with books stacked high. It was a bookworm’s paradise; it was my paradise, a dream absolutely come true. I knew this conference was going to be bigger than I had ever dreamed of it being.
As part of the deal for attendance, the SSU students were to work the Soundings East booth, offering copies of the last issue of SE as well as information about our writing programs, contests, and associated literary journals. While at the table, we got to meet a lot of different people from presses, editors, authors, poets, and even the director of the conference’s bookfair, who called herself “Bookfair Claire.”
The conference lasted three days and was filled with information sessions, panels, readings, speakers, and interactive writing workshops that happened outside of the bookfair space. Throughout the conference hall, there were events that surrounded publishing, the Fulbright program, chapbooks, poetry, LGBTQ+ writers, BIPOC writers, trauma, memory, and tons more. So many events, not enough time.
Over the course of those three days, I acquired so many books (as one does when left alone in a massive bookfair), however I also gained so many useful and meaningful experiences that will stick with me forever. I have made connections with people in the writing and publishing field, which will help me with future careers and endeavors in those areas, but also in marketing. Informational sessions, questions asked at graduate program booths, and random conversations in hotel lobbies gave me insight into further education possibilities, travelling and writing opportunities, and what to expect in the future of this field.
It was a whirlwind of activity. Even after being home for a few weeks at this juncture, I still don’t think I’ve processed it all. There was so much to take in that I was hoping it would never end, and that wasn’t even because of the bookfair and the informational sessions. It was the little personal moments I found the most exciting; talking craft and telling jokes with peers and SSU faculty, reading poems after a filling dinner, running in our pajamas to catch the keynote speaker in person, walking 30 minutes round trip for pizza that was cold when we got back. Those little moments suspended me in time; in those moments, I felt free, comfortable, like I belonged there. It was the first time in a while that I truly had that feeling of belonging bliss.
As the trip came to an end on March 28, we marched ourselves to the airport, the excitement we felt still buzzing within our bodies. Boarding the American Airlines flight back home to Boston, I felt myself get emotional. AWP was an enlightening experience, as everyone I had talked to said it would be, and I never wanted it to end. However, even though we left, flying high into the clouds towards Logan International, I remembered that those memories would stick with me until the end of time, and for that, I will forever be gratefule for this experience.
I don’t think I have it in me to ever try and forget the moments that made me feel infinite.
Edited by Jana Morgante