A Lot of Lone Wolves at AWP
by Nonfiction Editor Hayley Carpenter
Image: “Sunset, Huntington Beach, CA” by Roger Camp
I’m told the March issue of Barnstorm is unofficially-officially the one with an AWP themed editor essay so, after attending the annual conference, I am pleased to say I have thoughts. First: Do you know the song “Alone Together” by Fall Out Boy? Probably. You’re a writer. Regrettably, I’m not here to wax poetic on the lyrical genius of the song itself, but there’s something in the title that encapsulates the magic of a conference for Socially Awkward Writers.
Not beating the Socially Awkward Writer allegations whatsoever, I was dreading tabling with the Barnstorm team at the bookfair. You’d think someone whose work history involves babysitting, multiple customer service jobs, and teaching would have gotten over the fear of putting on a performance, and yet…
When I was forgetting to make eye contact with passersby, I was taking mental notes on the shoes people wore—I was looking right at the ground, you see—and what those people were wearing if their shoes were gloriously impractical. Then, I noticed: a large amount of attendees on the bookfair floor were alone.
I’d never attended a conference before AWP in Baltimore, so maybe this isn’t actually anything particularly groundbreaking. But, I was struck that in a place teeming with so many bodies, with so much to look at, there were so many people willing to walk around and get the most out of their conference experience on their own. After getting used to the idea of being a conference-goer on day one, I even found myself feeling comfortable at the bookfair and looking forward to going back to the Barnstorm table. Sure, the ceiling above us was très Soviet-esque fallout bunker, but the vibes on the floor from the folks around me were solid.
I think I can put my finger on why that is: once you realize that everyone is there for the same reasons as you (more or less), you feel safer—you’re in the largest tight-knit writing community in the world. Maybe we feel comfortable in one of the most stressful situations ever because we know we’re all alone together, so aren’t we really just together?
I only made it to one panel, but it was the panel I carved out time in my tabling schedule to get to (although there is one about vampires that was prerecorded that I WILL be finding). This was about centering friendship in writing, something I want to improve in both my fiction and nonfiction writing. As I got locked out of panel after panel at AWP, I resolved more and more than I would make it to my friendship panel GODAMNIT! And, as it turned out, many other attendees felt the same way. The room was packed. Sure, I saw plenty of friends come to the panel together—omg how sweet—but most were, like me, lone wolves. United, quite literally, by the community that comes from the power of friendship.
All that said, I’m a nonfiction writer and am cosmically bound to tell you the truth. I fell asleep during it. My only excuse is that it was the last panel slot on the last day of the conference, but I could not be more embarrassed if I tried. Please click the above link to view the panelists and check out their work. Upon waking to applause after one of the panelist’s readings, I realized in horror that I would not be staying awake. I gathered my things, insisted a girl I offered a pen to to keep it (in the name of friendship and community), and ungracefully made my exit.
Fortunately for this essay, despite failing to participate as an alert, enthusiastic writer ready to learn and grow, I hadn’t excluded myself from the community formed at AWP. Instead, when I booked it to the Low Light Space on the opposite end of the third floor, I found myself in a room plunged into complete darkness save for two dim lights—a veritable cave. Along the perimeter were sleeping attendees, tucked into the walls and chairs of tables. I sat at a table, put my head down, and drifted off with them.
So, AWP didn’t break my shell and cure me of my Socially Awkward Writer-ness. I didn’t even learn as much from experts in the field as I wanted. But I did find myself surrounded by my people: the ones who hate eye contact but try, who feel inspired by those who share their interests, and who will go to the Low Light Space where lone wolves are the most vulnerable. In other words, devoted writers who look at each other in the most incredible and terrifying place and say: “Let’s be alone together.”
I guess AWP is in Chicago next year? #AWPGoToMiamiOrSomething
Hayley Carpenter is Barnstorm’s current nonfiction editor and English 401.20’s current composition instructor. She’s a second-year MFA student at the University of New Hampshire where she focuses on nonfiction writing (making her uniquely qualified for this position at Barnstorm). According to the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, she is somewhere between an INTJ and INFJ.
Roger Camp is the author of three photography books including the award winning Butterflies in Flight, Thames & Hudson, 2002. His documentary photography has been awarded the prestigious Leica Medal of Excellence and published in The New England Review, New York Quarterly and Orion Magazine. He is represented by the Robin Rice Gallery, New York.