Back from Atlanta

Got back Saturday night from the AWP conference in Atlanta, where the people are oh-so-nice and the architecture--at least downtown--is oh-so-soul-crushing. Had a great reading at A Cappella Books in the lovely Little Five Points neighborhood, and had a chance to bond with all the Red Hen people.

Thanks especially to all the (self-styled) Red Hen Chicks for sharing a night out on the town. Who knew that eight people could fit in a compact sedan? Steph, you're a rockin' driver.

Thanks also to Doug Van Gundy, West Virginia poet extraordinaire, for all the conversation, and for the fiddle music. The Polynesian setting of the Trader Vic's at the Hilton gave it that edge of cultural dissonance we all love.


What did I learn on my journey? First and best, that people laugh in the right places when I read from my book.

Next lesson? That spending three days in an airless hotel full of writers is like being on a mental version of one of those crazy pirate ships at an amusement park. Talk about mood swings: I'm brilliant. I'm worthless. My work is important. My work is meaningless. All 5,000 of us, more or less in unison.

Glad to be home.