48 Hours after AWP 2012


Well it’s been almost 48 hours since my cramped American Eagle plane grazed the Newark runway with the eloquence of a wounded polar bear. As I stumbled from the cabin (which, was never constructed for men of any sort of girth) and I inhaled the toxic Jersey air I felt my soul sink in my chest. For five days and four nights I lived inside a bubble of creativity hidden behind concrete walls and ducked beneath snow-filled clouds. Ten thousand like minded individuals cramped the Hilton hotel on Southern Michigan Avenue desperate to network, learn, sell, and drink, oh yes drink.

I attended the conference with ten others from Brookdale Community College and as we slipped in and out through blazer-wearing, wine sipping professionals and even worse the onslaught of hipsters, hippies, and goths we attempted to capture the spirit of this creative junction of our lives. Prior to landing at the O’Hare International Airport my life was culminating from years of procrastination and confusion and my writing had become to be taxed by such tiresome exploits. When I was propositioned with attending the trip last semester I was eager to show my prowess and connect with writers and acquire if not, prove my skills in a broad-spread community. However, I met some great writers, sipped some beer with others, but I decided to ignore any networking or promotion of myself.

Instead I decided to breath in the creativity, with one hope to retain one bit of inspiration to bring back to my unknown town in New Jersey. I succeeded. Today is March 6th, and I haven’t written a blog post in over thirty days. To make matters worse I haven’t penned any fiction or poetry for months longer than that. However, during the trip I jotted almost ten poems in Evernote and am steadily back into my flow of writing, writing, writing! By saying I abandoned my networking endeavors I don’t mean I sat in the corner of Kitty O’Sheas and drank alone, I met many many great people that I have met on Twitter- and I even met Taylor Mali, Brian Turner, and Kurt Brown.

After my daily Subway trip (only thing even vaguely affordable), I would sneak back to my sixth floor room and pen away at my offline Evernote account hiding from the chaos, which ensued downstairs. I invested my daily hours from nine to five attending panels some good, some bad, and some so over crowded I don’t know how we got away with stuffing that many people in one room! One of my favorite panels Murder and Mayhem asked the age old question why are humans so enthralled with violence and gore?

But nevertheless, this trip was an awakening to my heart and soul that has invested itself into the craft.I am fully inspired to blog more, write more, read more, and live more.

 

And the night-life was pretty awesome too. I’ll have pictures and more on the blog either later tonight or early tomorrow.

 

To my readers, did any of you attend AWP this year or last or plan to attend next year in Boston? Leave a comment I’d love to hear from you.

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About Damian Rucci

D.F. Rucci is a writer, blogger, and a musician from a small town in New Jersey. View all posts by Damian Rucci

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