I'm Not Going to AWP

Wow, a lot can happen in a few short weeks. Influenza B and the coronavirus / COVID19 pandemic are slamming the United States right now, attacking vulnerable patients at both ends of the age spectrum—children and the elderly.

I asked at least half a dozen people with epidemiological and/or public health backgrounds whether it was wise for me to attend AWP 2020 in San Antonio. For those not in the know, AWP is a huge writing conference with a book fair that sees an attendance of over 10,000 people—also known as a petri dish for potential viral plague. My mom, who is the managing editor of a medical journal and has worked her entire career in healthcare administration and management, told me to listen to my gut. Plus, her field is palliative care, and the coronavirus is currently having a field day in nursing homes and palliative care facilities. One smart friend with an Ivy League master’s degree in public health told me to go to the conference, have fun, live my life, and bring hand sanitizer. I adore this friend, but she is the same one who suggested we go snow tubing on a Wisconsin day in January 2018 when the low reached a dangerous -24 degrees Fahrenheit, not including windchill. So, I adore you, Rachel, but sorry—didn’t take your advice.

Sadly, in the end, and to the great relief of my husband, pup, and in-laws, I’ve decided not to attend AWP in 2020. It was a difficult decision and one I did not make lightly, especially because I was so looking forward to talking with writers on immigrant rights, borderlands writings, and bilingual and translingual projects—and I had booked my hotel 11 months in advance.

However, I have two nephews with severely compromised immune systems due to hypopituitarism disorders. They live down the road from us with my sister-in-law, who is a young single mom with a lot on her plate. Since I spend time with them and with older people at our family farm, I feel the most responsible thing for me to do is sit out #AWP2020.

Given the risks of contracting coronavirus/COVID19 and/or influenza B, which is flooding hospitals with sick infants and children right now (a neglected news story due to slowly mounting coronavirus hysteria), I can’t in good conscience attend a big conference. I realized the risks of contracting an illness, regardless of whether I shake hands with professional contacts, hug my writer friends, or otherwise. I’m prone to colds and respiratory illnesses as it is—when I was young, my mom & I lived w/my grandparents, who were heavy smokers. I just can’t justify getting sick and risking a two to three week quarantine (or waiting until I show symptoms of an illness that has a peculiarly long incubation period and that can reappear even after a patient tests negative for the virus).

As it is, I’ve gotten colds after both AWPs I’ve attended and gotten sick after all three of my December MFA residencies. Once cold/flu season is over, I’d love to make more trips, but I have to sit this one out. I’m sad I won’t be able to catch up with all of my writer and editor friends in real life.

So, since I had to cancel a trip I spent 12 months planning, I allowed myself a little wallowing this past weekend. I made Bloody Marys with Tito’s vodka on Saturday and Sunday to bring the Texas to me—Tito’s is made in Austin.

Alcohol kills viruses.*

*This is a joke. Only topical alcohol, with at least 60% alcohol content concentration, can kill the coronavirus. Do your homework and wash your hands.

I plan on using the eight days I was going to be gone, which now seems like an unconscionably long time to be away from my home, to work on writing, translation, revisions, and a couple house projects. It’ll be a self-made writing retreat, lemonade from lemons. I’ll stay active on Twitter and Instagram and post photos of my progress. I made an overly detailed packing list, per usual, so I think I’ll just wear the same outfits I planned to don in person at AWP around my house. Maybe make some #OOTD posts.

Since I didn’t put any money down on the trip because I was going to road trip and book a cheap hotel on Hotwire to stay overnight halfway between Wisconsin and Texas, I feel relieved and not as financially strapped as I could be. I’m not on an AWP panel as a presenter, I’m not a publisher, so I didn’t need to pay for booth space at the book fair, and my attendance fee was covered by my MFA alma mater, Antioch University Los Angeles. Also, I booked a hotel room in San Antonio, which didn’t authorize my credit card, so I didn’t pay any money upfront. I transferred that reservation to a writer friend when I decided I wouldn’t go to the conference, and she still has until 4 p.m. Central time today to cancel to be within the 48-hour no penalty cancellation period.

But! I know at least three people and have heard of many more via the writing community Twittersphere who leave today to travel to Texas for AWP20 and lots of other people who’ll be out a lot of money on booth space, conference fees, prepaid AirBnBs, and airfares if AWP is cancelled or shortened. I hope Antioch and other programs who generously cover conference attendance fees for their students and alumni can get these refunded. I wish AWP would send out live email updates, or better yet—texts! My similarly broke writer friends are supposed to travel TODAY.

Writers, editors, and publishers stateside and worldwide are waiting with bated breath to find out from the AWP organizers whether the conference will be shortened or cancelled. AWP’s meeting with officials is happening now, I believe, at 10:30 a.m. and 11 a.m. Central. We’ll all just wait to hear more. In the meantime, I’ll exercise at home, hang out with the pup, and write my heart out.

I would have left to drive to AWP today, on Dr. Seuss’s birthday and Read Across America Day, so instead of posting my “travel” meals, what if I just post pics of my homemade food?

Today’s breakfast: two-egg omelet with a little ham, a lot of spinach, and a guilty cheese curd or two. #greeneggsandham #HappyBirthdayDrSeuss #ReadAcrossAmerica #ReadAcrossAmericaDay