We've been fortunate enough to attend three AWP conferences in the last few years. Two (including this one) took place where we lived, and once we traveled to DC (which was, without a doubt, the worst trip of my life, no fault of AWP or DC).
This one was a little different, as we had Edie in tow. It was mostly James's thing (as his company paid, soooooo . . .), but we split Friday and I went to two panels. The first was the anxiety of influence for women writers and the second was on motherhood and writing, specifically writing from home. The first one was facinating, with all the panelists answering different questions. The comment that I find myself mulling over still is that we shouldn't worry so much about originality. That, just by nature of being different human beings, we are original. What we should concern ourselves with is ensuring that our originality resonates outside of our own head.
The second panel was amazing. It was in this tiny room, and it was just packed full of women. All chairs filled, people on the floor. It felt so cozy, so filled with kinship.
Our friend, Aaron, came for the conference, and we've been hanging out, eating snacks, and just generally enjoying each other's company.
Oh, and then, on Friday, there was a blizzard. Another one. Ugh. What? Over a foot? Ugh. Ugh, winter.