Surreal notes on AWP 2015 Minneapolis
Oh, there are a lot of people here. Some say 12,000. Some say 15,000. How many are published? How many are teachers? How many just love books?
Wow there are so many people here. That’s bad in a way, there are so many writers. Maybe there are more writers than readers? I heard someone say that. No, it’s a good thing, it shows how much interest there is in writing!
Tornadoes seem to be an image jumping forth from my psyche. Why a tornado on top of a tornado? Maybe because it’s so hard to write (tornado) and so hard to be published (second tornado).
Tornado dances between two ancient wisdom pyramids. One wisdom is the fact that we are addicted to stories and are stuck with this as a species. The second pyramid is probably referencing how old storytelling is. Older than the pyramids, really. Monkeys probably jabber stories. Look, a leopard! Flash fiction.
This is the Nike “Just do it” mother-of-all tornadoes. So just do it. Remember the old New Yorker joke: there are two doors, one says Heaven and one says Lecture on Heaven. There is a line for the lecture. No one walking toward the other door.
There are layers to this thing of being a writer, being creative. And no maps really. It’s a squirmy mass of information. Good Luck. Run for cover.
Some people are like walking headless birds on superlong legs with glowing something or others in their minds. Some are like intertwined woven sticks with mechanical legs. Yeah, we are all here for the lecture! There is room for all kinds!
Ant-people are a good metaphor for something, but I’m not sure what. This is a picture of a queen ant and a male horned ant (with antlers). What does this mean? Are those drones in the background? How do you know if you’re a drone?
the ancient wisdom (symbolized by the pyramid) is on shaky legs, still the ant-queen and warrior determine what plot is, and that is essential. The angry guy says: Plot is character! What are you talking about? Beware of rocket ships!
Celtic wisdom: it’s all intertwined and we are destined to be forgotten when our sun explodes in like billions of years. Or do we only have millions?
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