Sparkle glitter shimmer princess. With laser eyes.
Oh the brilliance of the Downtown Omaha Lit Fest. Sublime. Simply sublime.
On Friday I drove all day with the amazing Amy Guth through the fine states of Illinois and Iowa. We spent about two hours trying to come up with a title for her new book. This is actually way more fun than it sounds. In particular for me, because I've been way too obsessed with my own book lately. It was really relaxing and refreshing to think about someone else's work for a change.
We arrived at our host's home and it was gorgeous: an impressive art collection, dark wood everywhere, luxurious furniture, and a magical back garden that extended to the property next door. Everything had been carefully and strategically placed, and the home was immaculate. Bob and Gerry have clearly been reading some shelter magazines. They also lived right next door to the Joslyn Castle, this crazy ass castle in the middle of Omaha. Our hosts greeted us at the door with chardonnay and were treated like royalty. Being a visiting writer sure has its perks.
Then we were off to glamorous downtown Omaha. Along the way we picked up Monica Drake, who was just pulling into the lit fest from Portland. We had never met her before. We just told her she was coming with us. Then we ate and drank and ate and drank and then drank some more. On the way home Guth and I got lost like eighty times and I got a serious case of the giggles. Really I was just so happy to be in such a spacious, friendly city. It was a huge release for me.
The next day was all about the panels. I ranted and raved on my Women on the Edge panel (where I was joined by my pal from the blogging panel last year, Omaha Momma) about how it's always the boys who get to be deemed the genius writers, and the girls have to fit in a box. I hope that I didn't sound bitter in the slightest because I am not. I love my publisher and they have treated me like gold and have definitely not tried to categorize in me any way other than being a writer, plain and simple. But it is impossible not to notice that - and this is in general - a man can write a book and it can just be a Good Book, and rarely is a woman allowed that same freedom. I mentioned at one point that my frustration with the industry at large just makes me want to write harder and smarter and better. The only thing you can do to change it is to make great work. This weekend really reminded me that it is all on me to kick ass.
Later on I got in a disagreement on the sex panel with another writer. I don't want to get too detailed but the other writer - a woman, which was so odd - said something along the lines of, "Well women don't read literary fiction as much as men do," which was INSANE. I disagreed with her and then she went on to explain, "Well you live on the east coast, you don't know what it's like in the midwest." And there we were, sitting in the midwest, in a room full of people, many of them women, who I can assure you all read literary fiction. Anyway there was some back and forth and then she referenced Kathy Acker as literary fiction and only men read Kathy Acker (!) and I just had no idea what to do with that although I did make the comment, "Perhaps I'm just too mainstream."
I mean, really.
(I should mention that she came up to me later and said, "Point taken," so at least there was that.)
Also I read One Plus One out loud and it was so much fun and I got such a nice reaction I might do it again and record it as a podcast.
Later Lauren said, "You do realize you just read a story about a coked-up threesome in the public library of Omaha."
I think I might get that on a t-shirt.
Speaking of LC, she was brilliant on every panel she either spoke on or moderated. She's a real treasure and visionary and she talks a lot about lasers that shoot out of eyes and Belgium and things that she loves by way of things that she hates. You won't find a better conversationalist around.
By the cocktail party we were all totally beat but we kept talking. I don't know if I've talked that much in years. I had a good time with Maud Casey and so many other writers I can't begin to mention. There were also these adorable grad students who had been at the sex panel and came up to me and said, "We've been stalking you all night." I love literary stalkers. They're the best kind.
On Sunday morning we woke up to a wonderful brunch that Bob and Gerry threw for all the visiting authors. We plotted next year's lit fest with Timmy Schaffert and sat and laughed a lot on the back porch. The weather was perfect and the sun came out occasionally. I finally got a chance to catch up with Friend-of-Sampsell Laural Winter. She told me about the next cool neighborhood in Portland and offered me the name of an awesome real estate agent.
I want to know: will you all still read this blog if I move to Portland?
Also I got in a last night minute conversation with Andrea Portes, the author of Hick, who I had been eyeing from afar all weekend because there were just so many fun people to talk to. I was glad I got to chat her up.
And then it was a long long long drive back. I had to drag Guth away from LC because they were quickly falling in love, but we had to head out on the road. I woke up this morning with a sore throat because I talked so much this weekend, ending with seven hours straight on that ride home. I feel invigorated and challenged and ready to do it all over again next year. And I'm also ready to finish this goddamn book.
(09/17/07)