February 28, 2007
Chillin’ in Atlanta
Arrived here yesterday for the AWP writers’ conference. Went to the conference hotel this afternoon to get my registration packet and set up books on the Ravenna Press and elimae table.
Talked to some nice folks at various booths — Columbia Poetry Review, Copper Canyon, U of California Press, U of Arkansas Press. Tomorrow I plan to take the train into downtown: the hotel folks told me the 6-7 mile drive could take up to 90 minutes (!), but I can drive 2 miles (away from downtown), catch the train, and be there in 15-20 minutes.
Atlanta has a lot of pretty houses and even pretty condo units, but the traffic is horrendous. One major road, Ponce de Leon (pronounced something like Ponts duhLEEuhn, I hear), has lanes approximately the same width as a full-size car: no leeway against sideswiping at all. Sigh.
But there’s a cool used bookstore in Decatur (about 5 miles east of downtown) called Books Again, and just a couple of blocks away is a fine little bakery and diner (the name of which escapes me — I had a cup of grits and a pot of tea), and just about a block from that is Decatur CD, a cool little independent music store. (I bought the All Saints Record Company compilation — $4 — Scott Walker’s the Drift, which is a very odd record on first listen.
Tomorrow, with some luck, I’ll sell some Ravenna books (maybe even copies of Mosefolket) and meet folks like Kim Chinquee, Liesl Jobson, Girija Tropp, Derek White, Claudia Smith, and who knows whom else.
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5 Responses to “Chillin’ in Atlanta”
Renner, here you are posting about some high-toned parliament of the literati — and I’m writing about a greasy old strip club.
Oh, mama, can this really be the end . . . ?
Stuck in Atlanta traffic . . . listening to Scott Walker’s The Drift!
Just got an email relaying that my best pal in the world, June Spence, will be arriving in ‘lanta for the AWP festivities tomorrow.
I’ll try to send her visiting your way, Mr. Renner.
Give the elimae folks my best!
I am jealous. I got to go for PEN in 2003, and it was fun. Except that I got the flu. Watch out for those writers, Cooper–they all have germs.
Cooper, Check out the Flying Biscuit. Great, and I mean great, breakfasts. And in a very cool part of town.