Like a Lion, After All

It’s snowmageddon time on the east coast again. Starting Tuesday night through Wednesday night, we should expect five-plus inches, twelve inches, or “substantial accumulation” of snow, depending upon which weather prognosticator you hear. Normally, I’d just hunker down with my DVDs and books and MacBook and shelter-in-place until it’s all over. And frankly, we’ve had these predictions several times this winter, and in my section of the Shenandoah Valley we’ve had a total of maybe two inches of snow.

Which could mean we’ll get walloped on Tuesday night.

Here’s the rub. I’m due to hop on a train Wednesday night to go to Boston for AWP (the Association of Writers and Writing Programs annual conference). The “snow event” should be over by the time my train leaves, but getting to Union Station in Washington, DC, on Wednesday, during the day’s snowpacalypse, could be the issue. I have a four-wheel drive vehicle, but when VADOT urges you three days before the storm to stay off the roads, you get a little worried.

I already know of several writer friends who have moved up their arrival to Boston–traveling on Tuesday instead of Wednesday–and that’s probably what I’ll do.

The non-writer might ask, why go to all the trouble? Stay home. Hunker down. Watch the pretty snowfall. Don’t risk it. Don’t disrupt your schedule.

In my previous blog posts after attending a writers conference or workshop, I’ve tried to convey just how motivating they can be. You learn something (a lot, actually), you network with other writers, you get exposed to publications and publishers, and you’re immersed twenty-four hours a day in all things literary. Writers conferences are like a Star Trek convention for book nerds, minus the filk sing and the costumes of your favorite Klingon. (Oh, yes, that collective, horrified gasp you heard was the literati expressing dismay at a pop-culture comparison.)

So, pardon me for the shortness of this post. I need to go stop the newspapers, change reservations, pay bills, and pack–and probably several other things I’ll forget until I’m in Boston. But then, the fun begins.

One thought on “Like a Lion, After All

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