The Bookfair
I work at a bookstore, so when I found out there would be a
bookfair at AWP, I thought I knew what to expect: a roomful of tables, small stacks
of books from different presses for purchase, a leisurely stroll through a
corridor of literary journals. Ha. How wrong I was.
The AWP bookfair consisted of four giant hotel conference
rooms full of tables, representing literary journals, MFA programs, small
presses, and grant/fellowship programs from across the country. A good friend
and I decided to brave the bookfair our first day, but ended up perusing
only one room, walking down rows and rows of tables without stopping,
overwhelmed, barraged with “swag” (pins, erasers, notepads, pens, etc.), calls
for submissions, contest announcements, and occasionally, free journals
(thanks, Lindenwood Review!). We both admitted it was a little frightening, but
braced ourselves and returned the next day bolder, wiser, and ready to take
advantage of all the bookfair had to offer.
A classmate of mine summed up the bookfair experience by
saying it simultaneously made her feel better and worse about the chances of
getting her stuff published, and I mostly agree. On one hand, you come
to understand how much competition there is. You look around the room, and you
see that everyone is like you, looking at the same journals,
submitting to the same contests. You
realize you are a better writer than some of them. You realize some of
them are much, much better writers than you. You realize these journals only
accept a few fiction pieces per issue. You must not only be better than the
person standing next to you. You are one of thousands. You must be exceptional.
However, you look around the room, and you also see hundreds
of tables of literary journals, all different, all searching for a variety of aesthetics,
many finding new, creative ways to get your work to the masses. Hoot Review
enticed us to their table with a giant dice game, and I won a free sample of
their monthly magazine – one piece of “mini” poetry or prose printed on a
beautiful postcard. We missed the University of New Orleans MFA program’s yo-yo
contest, but got a free swag bag from their summer abroad program in Edinburgh.
I bought a journal from the Cincinnati Review (one of my favorites) and got
free journals from, among others, Crab Orchard, the Missouri Review, and the
Mid-American Review, whose staff enthusiastically encouraged me to resubmit to
their journal after I told them I was forced to withdraw my last piece. (I
managed to refrain from informing the editors of the Missouri Review that they
rejected one of my pieces, as I’ve heard some people tend to do at AWP. Yikes.)
I also worked at the table for UMSL’s lit journal, Natural Bridge, and met
a ton of really cool people.
So overall, I left the bookfair optimistic. I may have an
obscene amount of competition, but it’s better to realize that sooner than
later. I also realize I have options. So many options. If my work is good
enough, it will find a home. It’s now my job to make sure the work is good
enough.
Chicago Miscellany
- I've never seen/smelled a hotel room more disgusting than ours after eight people lived in it for five days.
- The Modern Wing of the Art Institute of Chicago is gorgeous.
- I can now hail a cab like a pro.
- If you've had your fill of Chicago style pizza, try Gyu-Kaku Japanese Barbecue (specifically the enoki mushrooms) and Jitlada Thai House.
- The University of Tampa knows how to make a bunch of awkward writer-types socialize: open bar. Liquor us up and let us dance. I danced so hard I got a mysterious wound on my forehead.
- Stop by George's Louge on Wabash. Awesome dive bar, jukebox, good strong drinks.
- I have very lustful feelings for the city, as a whole. It's big and loud and exciting. I always leave thinking, I could move here someday. But could lust turn to love? Would the feeling last? Chicagoans, what say you?
In other random exciting life news: I'm applying for a
pretty awesome job for next school year. Keep your fingers crossed for me!
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