Getting Dumped at AWP
Why writing and dating are really the same thing.
Hi writers,
Last week I traveled from Paris, France to Baltimore, Maryland to attend AWP with the Hewes House team (including the youngest member, 4-month-old Theo). I made a reel about it:
What I left out of my reel was that I got rejected (romantically speaking) at AWP. But okay, fine, yes, it was a very soft rejection. Also, it’s a metaphor for writing.
Back in January, I posted a story on Instagram asking if anyone wanted to share an Airbnb in Baltimore with me. This 38-year-old guy who lives in Brooklyn, whom I’d met in Paris, replied that he was interested. “I’ll go bc I get to see you,” he wrote. It would be his first time at AWP but he has a chapbook and a new book out; he’s a good writer and a handsome, lovely guy, and we had kissed once in a bar in Paris and had a little coffee hang just weeks prior.
Another friend, the beautiful and brilliant Francesca Kritikos of SARKA, was also interested.
We started a group chat, I found a cute Airbnb, and all went well. I wouldn’t say the exchanges between me and this man were super flirty but every once in a while there was a sense of that, like this text from him on January 31:
(To be clear, there were 3 beds in the Airbnb, in case my mom or anyone else’s is reading this.)
It’s not like I had huge expectations. I could tell we were both curious to get to know each other a little better. And he was likely curious about AWP and this huge writing world that it brings together from different places.
But nothing happened. It was all fun, pleasant, platonic. I spent my days at the Hewes House booth in the conference bookfair. This man and I went to Francesca’s multiple readings or Lucy K Shaw’s readings in the evenings. He was generous and open to tagging along wherever I wanted to go. Toward the end he got sick and stayed in the Airbnb. But I wondered if he was really sick or just making up reasons to avoid me.
At 5pm on the final day of the bookfair, just as Josh Boardman, Dasha Sikmashvili, and I were packing up the booth, he sent a text:
It was nice of him to clarify, but it felt a little too late. Why not tell me on day one? I thanked him and said I wish I’d known earlier, that I was a little embarrassed. (I felt horribly rejected.)
Back at the Airbnb, after the Zona Motel reading that reading, he and I chatted more. And this is what’s nice about dating when you’re over 40: You can just ask. You can just talk about it like two adults. Turns out he had matched with a Swiss woman on Raya two weeks earlier and was talking to her every day. He’d decided (at some point, maybe during the weekend with me?) to fly to Switzerland to meet her. He’d bought tickets.
I can’t be mad; this is the sort of crazy thing I’ve done not once (Croatia), not twice (Mexico), but many times, in fact.
I did see his stories in Basel the weekend after AWP, so I know that much is true. I asked how it went with his Raya match. (I’m invested! I’m playing it cool!)
Of course, he might have concocted a story to reject me in a softer way. But I like to give people the benefit of the doubt.
* * *
Because we are writers, you and me, we want to share what we create, we want to find our readers. We send pieces out for consideration at journals or lit mags, query agents or small presses, read at salons or open mics.
At every turn, we risk hearing no. No we don’t want your poems, no we won’t publish your story or book, no we won’t represent you, no we aren’t inviting you to read your work, no you didn’t get the residency, no we didn’t like it.
What this means: No, it’s not the right time or place. It’s not a match. It isn’t love.
What this doesn’t mean: That you aren’t good or your writing is shit or you should stop trying.
Dating, looking for the right person to partner up with, often feels like sustaining a thousand paper cuts to the heart. But so does writing. We must press on. It might help to think of it not as competing against all the other writers or romantic hopefuls for the same piece of pie (book deal, readership, commitment), but as you—one person with something to say—looking for the right fit with someone who wants to hear what you have to say because, for both of you, it’s the right time, right place, and shared end goal.
* * *
During AWP, Josh and Dasha sat down to film a live recording of First Person Present. In part one of the two-part special AWP Edition, Dasha and Josh spoke with author and Hewes House client Pamela Gullard about her experience publishing and marketing her latest collection of short stories, Lake Crescent and Other Spirits.
When the conversation turns to Pam’s thoughts on rejection, she says, “I tell young writers, until you're at 50, don't talk to me. You need 50 to start.”
* * *
No reply from the man I shared an Airbnb with in Baltimore about his big romantic adventure to Switzerland last weekend. But I did send out my poetry manuscript to a few places. So I’m still out here, courting rejection (or a yes) all over the place, then writing about it.
And you, how are you handling rejection these days, in writing or otherwise? With a dose of humor and self-awareness and refusing to take things personally, I hope.
xo
Kristin
o. m. g.
Loved reading this!! You are so inspiring.