Live from Seattle: It's AWP! (a Recap)

Last week I attended the annual AWP (Association of Writers & Writing Programs) conference in Seattle. Now, many writers out there are seasoned AWP veterans, returning year after year like geese to their favorite breeding grounds (and are often just as noisy). For me though, Seattle was my first time, and I went at it full tilt, attempting to pack every hour of my schedule with panels, readings, seminars, and other activities.  I soon exhausted myself, but not before I learned a ton about different ways to promote myself, went to some amazing readings, and talked to brilliant authors. If you are a writer and haven't done AWP, go. Since I had heard of the event, I complained that I would go once they brought it to the West Coast, which they never did, until now. I missed out. However, if you're on this coast and you're still as stubborn as I am, take heart; AWP 2016 will be in Los Angeles.

One of the panels I attended was on writers' blogs and digital promotion, a subject that anyone who has noticed the scarcity of my posts will know that I have a knack for avoiding. However, in the discussions of blog topics and updates on new work, I was inspired to reach beyond my discomfort in the electronic sphere, and, knowing that I would be doing a recap of my time at AWP, decided to compose it in a form in which I have no experience: the tweet. I have never used Twitter, as admittedly, many the people on there disturb me, but many writers out there are more than happy to utilize this tool to wax poetic about their work, their fans, or life in general. Here's my foray into the genre of 140-character stories, hashtags, and of course, AWP:

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Feb 25
We're on our way to Seattle for AWP! #awp #seattle #roadtrip #lookimtweeting #howdoihashtag #whatisahashtageven

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Feb 26
We're half-way through Oregon. You have died of dysentery and boredom. #roadtrip #oregontrail #awp
  
Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Feb 26
Finally arrived in Seattle. We're live from AWP! #spaceneedle #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Feb 26
This is the worst Star Trek convention ever. People aren't even wearing the right shade of red. #awp #whereskatemulgrew

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Feb 26
I have just been informed that this is a convention for writers, not Star Trek. #sothatswhatawpstandsfor #stillwannaseekatemulgrew #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Feb 26
 I'm at the panel on promoting your work through blogs and other digital media. Mark Doty is funny as hell. #fuckyoubepolite #markdoty #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Feb 27
Having a roommate at the hotel and always being surrounded by people has led to unforeseen difficulties. #nomorebeans #homeiswherethefartis #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Feb 27
Just went to the California writers reading. Some amazing work being read. #calwriters #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Feb 27
Oh man, the Alaska writers just blew the California writers out of the water. #stepitupcali #goalaskawriters #essays #poets #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Feb 27
Joy Harjo giving a brilliant reading. #joyharjo #awp

 Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Feb 27

 So much inspiration here. #writeallthethings #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Feb 27
Tried to go to David Mura's reading. Almost ended up on a ferry to Vancouver with Indigo Moor. #mencantnavigate #justaskfordirectionsdude #lostinseattle #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Feb 28

OMG Heid E. Erdrich is sitting right behind me. Just be cool. Just be cool. #starstruck #aboriginalcaucus #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Feb 28
Crashing Anhinga's 40th anniversary reception. #freefood #nocrunchingduringpoetryreadings #anhinga #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Feb 28
Barry Lopez is a genius. #barrylopezreading #arcticdreams #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Mar 1
This travel writing panel is packed! Who do these people think they are? #sittingonthefloor #whowillpayformetogotoantarctica  

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Mar 1
Time suspended at the bookfair while I read some of the most arresting poetry. #hyperboreal #joannaviyukkane #morealaskawriters #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Mar 1
They're "crepps" not "crayps," people. Standing in line for a smoked salmon crêpe. #lunchtime #iloveseattle #crepeline #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Mar 1
Met up with my old classmate and fellow writer Rooze and had a great conversation. #goodtimes #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Mar 1
Saw some innovative presses and journals at the bookfair. Too bad there wasn't time to see them all. #saddleroadpress #yellowmedicinereview 

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Mar 1

More bookfair highlights: #toadsuckreview #universityofhellpress #riverteeth #asus

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Mar 1
Got told by my alma mater's journal that they will NEVER EVER do an alumni-featuring issue. #nobodylikesyouanyway #stopaskingmeformoneythen #awpbookfair

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Mar 1
A lot of the bookfair tables are giving out pins. Things got really out of hand. #istartedwithjustonewhatthehellhappened #bookfair #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Mar 1
Look at all this bookfair swag. #swag #yolo #awp

 

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Mar 1
With all this walking/ and panels instead of food/ jeans fall from my/ flattening hips #lookimapoet #shouldhavebroughtabelt #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Mar 1 
Awesome poetry reading at the Tap House with Indigo Moor and Allison Adele Hedge Coke. #poetryreading #starstruck #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Mar 1
Sherman Alexie reading. The man is hilarious. Also a genius. #mysideshurt #99tinylovestories #shermanalexie #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Mar 1
That shock when you see one of your favorite writers and they turn out to be a terrible dancer. #notnamingnames #awpdance #awp

Pacific Loon @PacificLoonCA Mar 2
Going home, we finally see the USS Voyager! (Or a Voyager-shaped cloud, anyway.) #startrekafterall #awp

Well, there was my experiment in the Twitter medium. How do I feel about this literature composed of 140-character blips of consciousness and brief—yet at times eloquent—hastags (I'm still not completely sure how those are supposed to work)? I think it momentarily cured this writer of her tendency toward wordiness, but somehow there's still something missing. Or maybe I'm just too much of a stick in the mud to accept this new form. In any case, I might not be ready to "tweet" frequently just yet, but in time, I'm sure I'll be returning to this genre in future, as well as AWP.

Of Ravel and Sea Ice

Back when I was in Alaska, I mentioned once that I listened to the Passacaglia from Ravel's A minor Piano Trio while flying over Kotzebue Sound.  The almost unbearable loneliness of the piece and crushing beauty of the sea ice in the sidelong winter sun was such that it gave one the urge to commit harakiri right then and there.

This summer I'm helping to conduct a seminar in writing about music, and I see how hard it is to put words to an essentially wordless phenomenon.  How is it that scattered sounds come together to tell their own stories, elicit unspeakable joys, draw out the loneliness of sea ice?  As a classical musician by both training and trade, I've had to write piles of academic papers on the subject, and it seemed like nothing I ever said was of any justice to the matter.  It was like throwing pebbles at a river and expecting to create a dam to contain all its fury.  But I've revisited a favorite author recently for another project, and here is what she had to say on the matter:

"Here is where I come to some trouble with words.  The inside became the outside when Shamengwa played music.  Yet inside to outside does not half sum it up.  The music was more than music - at least what we are used to hearing.  The music was feeling itself.  The sound connected instantly with something deep and joyous.  Those powerful moments of true knowledge that we have to paper over with daily life.  The music tapped the back of our terrors, too.  Things we'd lived through and didn't want to ever repeat.  Shredded imaginings, unadmitted longings, fear and also surprising pleasures.  No, we can't live at that pitch.  But every so often something shatters like ice and we are in the river of our existence.  We are aware.  And this realization was in the music, somehow, or in the way Shamengwa played it.

"Thus, Shamengwa wasn't wanted at every party.  The wild joy his jigs and reels brought forth might just as soon send people crashing on the rocks of their roughest memories and they'd end up stunned and addled or crying in their beer."

-Louise Erdrich, from The Plague of Doves, describing Ojibwe violinist Shamengwa

Last week I went to see a jazz band downtown.  The gorgeous tenor sax player played a solo that the word "haunting" doesn't even begin to describe.  I stared at the face of my own loneliness, stood on the edge of the blue-gray sea ice as it spread before me, aware of all I had and had not done.  I was thrust into "the river of my existance," as Erdrich put it.  I saw Arctic winter again, and I sat paralyzed staring into my gin.  I could barely applaud when he was done.  Much more upbeat pieces filled the rest of the program, probably to cheer everyone up after that.

Later in the evening I asked that tenor player out, and when he refused, I found myself staring at the sea ice of sunless winter once more.  

Paper Sandpipers: Birds in Writing

     Recently I noticed that I use birds a lot in my writing.  A lot.  I went back into some old stuff and saw that nearly every piece work had a least one bird reference in it, and all this time I never realized that I was doing it.

     Sometimes, I'm just using a bird (or birds) as part of the scenery.  For example, one of my characters happens to look out a window and sees a robin on a redwood tree.  Pretty basic; the robin means nothing, other than as a visual cue to the setting.  Other times, I'm using the birds as a reflection of a character's state of mind.  In the same story with our friend on the redwood tree, there's a scene when the protagonist is looking at a bunch of sandpipers scurrying to and fro on a beach.  Their movements feel very unsettled, as are the character's thoughts at that point.   Most frequently, the birds are part of a simile or metaphor.  Raptors seem to be a favorite for this, as are various seabirds (and if they've got extensive migrations, then they seem to be even more desirable).  For example, if someone looks at you like a falcon looks at a squirrel, that's some scary shit.

Turkey vultures at Pinnacles National Monument

     All this has me thinking about why I use birds so frequently.  I'm no ornithologist and don't consider myself a bird fancier.  I even find some wild birds incredibly annoying (baby scrub jays screaming at 5 am drives me absolutely bonkers).  My theory is that birds are naturally fascinating to human beings.  Sometimes, it almost seems as if they are more extreme versions of ourselves.  How many myths and legends contain a bird character?  Ravens and other corvids are some of the smartest animals around; they use tools, solve complex problems, and can imitate human speech.

     Bird sounds fascinate us too.  Psittacines imitate; some can even carry on simple conversations.  Lyre birds and mockingbirds have some of the most complex repertoires in the animal kingdom.  People in temperate and subarctic climes look forward to spring, when the songs of thousands of warblers, thrushes, sparrows, and finches return after a silent winter.  Loons have driven some people to tears with their long and lonely calls (and "Pacific Loon" is the handle of this blog, incidentally).  Though seasonally monogamous (not for life, as many believe), loons will continue to call for their mate if one of the pair does not return, the same repeated howl over and over.  I remember being troubled for no reason I could see by the cries of mourning doves as a child.

     Consider migration.  The memory involved to be able to travel that distance and return to the same place year after year is astounding.  We haven't even begun to understand the complexities of avian navigation.  The lark you see at your southern feeder in March will likely be in Alaska or Nunavut by June.  The arctic tern, whom we're enjoying here on the coast right now, is the master of this feat.  Racing from pole to pole in its pursuit of eternal summer, an arctic tern will likely see more of the world in a year than you will in a lifetime.

     I wonder if any other writers out there find themselves with similar habits.  Maybe you use trees a lot.  Or celestial bodies.  What commonalities have you found in your own writing?

Musings

I've been thinking about what I'll miss about Alaska, and what I missed about California while I was here, so I decided to make a list.

What I'll miss about Alaska:

1. No crowds.  I never encountered any place that was crowded, including Anchorage.  I think the most crowded place I went was a drag show in Anchorage.  Those queens know how to party.

2. People who are easy to talk to.  I already mentioned the elders, but that's only one example.  I've been thinking about them a lot.  It's no secret that the voices we carry that endow us with the beautiful stories we tell are the same forces that can drive us to insanity.  Writers and other artists commit suicide at rates four to ten times higher than the national average.  I keep thinking that if we drank and told stories with each other, instead of by ourselves all the time, we might be able to curb some of this.     

3.  Snow.

4. Strong seasonal variations.  Not that we don't have seasons, but the huge swings of Alaska, not only in temperature, but in light, ensure there's always something new to see.

5. The unique and beautiful cultures here.

6. Ravens.  I like crows and their antics too, but they don't wheel around in the wind and play with each other like ravens do.  Watching them makes me wish I had been born a raven.

What I missed about California:

1. Secular radio.  Nome's two stations radio stations are funded by Christian groups, and alternate between cheesy praise songs and country western.  Once in a while you get something good, like Journey's "City by the Bay" (you can bet I was singing along when that came on), or Inuit singing and drumming.  Anchorage had a classical station that was actually pretty good, but when I drove outside the town limits, I lost the signal, and the dial consisted almost entirely of Christian and country western stations.  I think if I'm ever in Hell, that's what my radio will be like.

2. Fresh fruits and vegetables.  There were some in Nome, but you can bet they were expensive, and without much variety.  

3. The sun.  The sun didn't rise until 10:30 am in Nome, 12 pm in Kotzebue, and 9:15 am in Anchorage.  I'm not lying when I say white people in Alaska are pale as parsnips, and for a reason.  I'm a mix and I think I'd be pretty pasty too if I lived up there full-time.  My mother would be horrified if she visited me and then leap into a long lecture on the dangers of being a recluse and not eating enough orange vegetables.

4. Lots of vegetarian options.  Because I don't always eat fish.  I once worked and studied in Dresden for six months, and this was my huge gripe to the folks at home.  At first I tried to assimilate, so I cooked and ate German cuisine, but after a week I got tired of crapping rocks (once I could even crap at all) and started just shopping at the international market all the time so I could make California food.  

5. The relative harmony between the many cultures here.  I met a shopkeeper in Anchorage who had lived for a little while in San Francisco, and he said what he enjoyed most was that many different kinds of people with different backgrounds and different lifestyles could get along in very close company.  I specifically remember one recent July 4th spent with friends and family in San Francisco.  We saw a lion parade in Chinatown, complete with firecrackers, had a British afternoon tea service in the Financial District, and enjoyed amazing sushi and sake at a Japanese restaurant.  I don't see that happening in Alaska.

6. Surf.  I didn't make it to Yakutat or Sitka, Alaska's only surfing destinations, and only towns with surf shops.  Until there was a storm offshore, the waves in Nome were barely ankle high anyway.

Things that came up about even:

1. Recreation.  Plenty of things to do in both places.  I'd probably have to ride the mountain bike all the time in Alaska and set my road bikes aside, but I can fish and kayak quite well in both places, and hiking's good year-round.  I'm not yet crazy enough to do the Iditabike.

2. Seafood.  The seafood was great up in Alaska, but it's great in the Bay Area too.  Maybe there are some different options in both places, but many similarities as well.  We catch halibut from the piers and boats right in the Bay.  We also eat copious amounts of seaweed, and crab when its in season.   

     Jack London ultimately returned to his roots.  After a lifetime traveling the world as an oyster pirate, hobo, war correspondent, and yes, writer, he spent his last years in Sonoma County where he died.  As evidenced in his literature, the North always held a special place for him, and I think for him it was both frightening and fascinating.  I wonder what comparisons he made with the place of his origins, and the place that called to him from the darkness.