This time last week, I was quite nervous about the approaching ChLA, but more importantly I was very nervous about taking Peter Dickinson back to the airport at the end of the conference. It wasn't so much that I really had anything else to do that day, but 3 hours one-on-one with a well known author whose paper I presented on was a little unnerving. I know I said yesterday that I would blog about the experience today (and I sat down to do this morning), but in the mean time, I found Robin McKinley's blog. I'm intrigued for several reasons, but I spent all afternoon reading not because I'd just spent the better part of three days with her husband Peter Dickinson, but rather because she has footnotes in her blog. Those of you who know me well know that I am both unable to function without the footnote and have an irrational fear of footnote punctuation (there's a story here for those that are interested). I don't know that I will be able to pull off the footnoting of my own blog, but I'm in love with this metacommentary.
Anyway, back to the conference. I spent the first half of the conference regretting that I had submitted the paper. The introvert part of me combined with a very strong perfection impulse led me to toy with scenarios that would allow me to not present. I met Peter very early on Thursday morning when Roberta introduced us. I think that I was only able to end the conference without an ulcer because I was able to interact with him on much less pressure intensive situations earlier in the conferences--I helped him send an email to his wife, we printed his boarding pass, I drove him to lunch, etc.
By the time we got to Saturday and the presentation, I felt like I was going to be sick again. I opted for the short version of my paper.* (please note the punctuation of the pseudo-footnote) The paper seemed well received; quite frankly I don't remember much of that time.
The trip back to O'hare was wonderful. We chatted about politics, semis (and truckstops), how I miss the hills of the Ozarks, and numerous other topics. I was worried about the weather because storm clouds were looming, but they managed to hold out until our return trip. We did spend some time wandering through a Joliet grocery store in order not have to drive in the storms, but the flight seemed to depart as close to on-time as O'hare can accomplish.
My final thoughts on the experience have little to do with the confernce, and more to do with Peter Dickinson as an author who is also a human being. Part of my anxiety in this conference came from an experience I had as a master's student. I was writing my thesis on the runner up for the Phoenix Award and I emailed her to ask a question. She responded with a very dismissive and very accusatory email.** That experience made me very nervous about interacting with another author, but Peter was so gracious. Shortly after I helped him check-in on his flight, he gave me a book of his poetry that his children put together in honor of his 80th birthday. He inscribed it to Greg and me as a thank you for taking him back to the airport. I've paid people to sign my books, I've stood in line to have books signed, but I've never had someone offer me one as a gift.***
*it's very bad form to go over the time allotment at a conference, and since I was in the very last session, I felt like everyone's attention span would be shot anyway.
**basically she told me that I (and all other academics) was what was wrong with literature and that I had totally missed the point. I've withheld her name here because many of you know, but simple research can reveal this person if you are really interested.
***this was the honored portion of the previous post
No comments:
Post a Comment