I have always been a golfer even when I wasn’t. My father played golf and he often watched the tournaments on television; I watched him watch golf, and play golf, and perhaps that is where my affinity for the game comes. Golf is a sport filled with beauty, imagination and precision. When one steps to the tee and looks onto an immaculately manicured, 300-yard fairway, it is an awe-inspiring view of soaring possibilities. When one approaches the close-shaven turf of a green it is a challenge to succeed measured in inches. Continue reading
I attended my second conference of the Association of Writers & Writing Programs (AWP) this past week. It is a very well attended gathering of students, administrators of MFA writing programs, publishers, scholars, and writers of all ilks.
I love the diversity of this conference in both its attendees, and the topics covered. Hats off to the AWP organizers for the breadth of topics covered in the more than 300 sessions.
Somedays, I learned a little bit; other days, I learned a lot about the craft of writing. That’s why I attended. But the most important thing I gained was a renewed sense of my power and goals in writing.
Poets ruled this conference (and the world, I’ve come to realize). As a fiction writer, I am inspired by poetry.
The immersion in the life of writing: reading, pitching, crafting, researching, collaborating, encouraging, reviewing, critiquing, teaching and learning were the gifts I received during AWP.