Am I the Asshole For Trying to Pitch Editors and Agents at Crowded AWP Parties?

Well, hello there! Great to see you. Welcome back to another terrific (terrifying?) installment of America’s favorite drunken advice column, Am I the Literary Asshole? It’s the place where we can read people’s anonymous letters and judge them privately (or in group texts with our friends). I’m your host, Kristen Arnett, and I’m fresh off the plane back from AWP! I saw so many beautiful faces and wonderful friends! I ran into my benevolent editor, Jonny Diamond (you know, the guy who makes sure this column somehow manages to stay somewhat coherent). I sang karaoke! Baltimore, you are truly a charmed city. Thanks for the beers and the memories!

Speaking of the hotel bar, why don’t we pretend we’re back there again while we drink to today’s questions? Quickly, everyone form an impenetrable mass in front of the four feet of bar while the solitary bartender struggles to hear anyone’s order! It’ll take two hours to get your drink, but hey, at least we’re all in this together.

Cheers, and we’re off to the races:

1) I’m writing this from the airport, BTW. So, I was just at AWP and had the misfortune of being introduced to someone for the (fourth? fifth?) time who did not remember who I was. We have been in multiple spaces together, have shared dinners with colleagues, talked at length about various projects. Some of this can be blamed on alcohol, but at least two of these times there’s been nothing stronger than coffee involved. They remember everyone else, just not me. At this point, I can’t tell if they’re doing this is on purpose? It feels so incredibly rude, I can’t stop thinking about it. I know they’re kind of an asshole, but just how big of an asshole are they for this?

Not even home yet from the conference and already writing in! I love it!

So, yeah, of course this person is (probably) being a real jerk about things. We’ve all been in situations where we forget someone’s name (as you’ve mentioned, alcohol is often a culprit, but so is meeting many, many people all at once at a place like AWP). But if you’re saying that you have met each other five times already? That’s a lot of introductions! It feels slightly more pointed.

It’s totally possible that there are extenuating circumstances involved. Age can be a factor, certainly, and there are a variety of conditions that would make someone have memory issues. I know that certain individuals really do experience face blindness, so conference meet ups can be a bit dodgy when it comes to remembering who’s who. Generally speaking, though, people who have face blindness tend to mention that upfront whenever they meet people. And it seems as though you’ve repeatedly hung out in a lot of different spots, not just in overcrowded, overwhelming spaces like the convention center floor.

You can continue this song and dance with this individual—reintroducing yourselves to each other every six months or so—or you could make a point to just avoid them in general. You get to decide how you’d like to proceed from here. Do you happen to know how other people feel about this person? How do your colleagues get along with them? If you hear from others that they’re just not very nice, I might just say good riddance. Spend time with people who seem glad to see you.

Still no movement in the bar line, but we’ve got another question on deck:

2) What’s the etiquette for pitching agents and editors at conferences like AWP? I tried talking to people before and after panels, but it went nowhere. And at parties I could barely hear anyone. Everyone was more interested in talking to people that they already know. 

Another AWP question! It seems like everyone has a lot to unpack.

First of all, I just want to say I’m sorry that you didn’t get what you wanted from this weekend. I know it’s not cheap to attend. There are upfront conference fees, then lodging and travel, and that’s not even including stuff like food and ubers. I’m sure it was incredibly frustrating to realize you weren’t going to get what you wanted from this experience after forking out a bunch of cash.

I will say that it’s tough to network at these kinds of events, and most of that has to do with numbers: it’s crowded as hell. Thousands of people attend AWP each year. Imagine being an agent or an editor and having dozens and dozens of strangers approach you, all with very big hopes and dreams, and there’s no more than a few seconds to talk to each of them before the next panels begins. And those offsite parties you mentioned? Yes, they are intensely crowded and extremely boisterous! Generally, that’s when people are blowing off steam after a long day of conferencing. It’s difficult to talk shop when you’ve got several free drinks in you and the music is dialed up to a cool eleven.

For next time, I’d ask you to reconsider your approach. Were there any panels that featured agent/editor advice that you could possibly attend? Those can be helpful, especially when it comes to practical advice. Do you know any other writers who could give you an introduction to their editor or agent? That’s a nice way to meet people, and it’s way more likely that you’ll be memorable if you share a person in common. Also, not all the parties are ragers! Pick and choose your events, including offsite readings that happen at earlier hours. The vibe at these is more likely to be coffee and shop-talk, which is more in keeping with what you were looking for from your experience.

Also? It can be worth your while to just go with the flow at these kinds of conferences. We can pick and choose panels and parties to attend, but we can’t guarantee that any kind of real and meaningful career moves will take place. And it’s always nice to make some new writing friends!

I’m still waiting on that conference bar drink… Let’s check out our final question of the day while we wait:

3) Hi Kristen! I’m hoping you can help. 

I have a very close friend who, like me, is also a writer. We’ve known each other a long time (since freshman year of college) and I’ve always been a fan of her work. She’s extremely talented. I’m on staff at a small literary journal and decided to solicit her for a piece. She was excited and said yes right away, but now it’s been months and I can’t get her to turn in a draft. 

I’ve sent multiple emails at this point. She just keeps putting me off. It’s going to wind up turning into a huge ordeal for me professionally, because we could have asked a number of different people, and instead I chose to take a chance on my friend. I’m unsure how to proceed moving forward. 

Do you have any recommendations? 

Yikes! Buddy, I’m sorry to hear this.

The fact of the matter is that this just plain sucks. You really like your friend’s writing and you tried to do them a solid by publishing their work. They rewarded your kindness by bailing on the project altogether. Unfortunately, we can’t control what anyone else does. We can only control ourselves and our reactions to those things.

You’re likely going to have to treat this as a kind of “live and learn” situation. They let you down. But, you’ll know not to ask them for this kind of thing in the future. That way you can hopefully keep the friendship going without deadlines hanging over both of your heads. If you want, you could ask them (gently) what’s going on? It’s possible there are extenuating circumstances involved here, especially if this person is a long-time close pal.

Hopefully they’ll apologize for this behavior and offer up a reasonable excuse for why they left you hanging, but even if they don’t, you can just chalk it up to the fact that sometimes friends aren’t the ones we would necessarily choose to work with on projects. You can be friends in myriad other ways that don’t require you to shepherd their writing into the world (which sounds like a good thing, personally; editing this individual would feel a lot like herding cats). Good luck out there.

And now, a little extra treat, because it made me feel good and I need a pick me up after that long conference weekend:

4) Hello, Kristen (and Lit Hub team Kristen?) –

I LOVE YOUR COLUMN! 

Thank you for doing it!! It helps me stay sane!

That’s nice! You help me stay sane, too!

And that’s all the time we have for today, dear hearts. Join me next time when we’re hopefully not still waiting in line at this hotel bar? And please remember to send me your anonymous questions! I live for them!

Conferencely,
Dad