Editor’s Note: Annalise Grueter is a member of the Aspen Writers Network. This column details her recent experience at the Aspen Summer Words juried workshops.
If you’ve been reading The Sopris Sun for at least a couple of weeks, you already know that this valley harbors an impressive roster of passionate writers.
From local journalists to those who write national headlines (Zoë Rom’s work with The New York Times and NPR, for instance) to a myriad of novelists (Linda Lafferty and Scott Lasser among many others), the love for words runs deep in this pocket of the Rocky Mountains. And for many of us, Aspen Words’ late-June conference in Snowmass Village represents a doorway toward our aspirations.
Originally called the Aspen Writers Conference by local poet Kurt Brown, it all started in 1976 as a series of outdoor classes and evening lectures in barrooms or private-homes. Aspen Words became part of the Aspen Institute just 16 years ago — in 2009. Throughout its existence, the organization has focused on nurturing literary culture in the region. The Summer Words conference in particular has become known as a quality stepping stone for writers developing their craft.
Many of the artists who visit the Roaring
Fork Valley for Aspen Winter Words sessions also stop by local schools to speak with students. As a teenager in this valley, I was lucky to attend talks and Q&A sessions with writers like Alexandra Fuller, Walter Isaacson and Colum McCann. At 16 and 17, I had an inkling just how lucky and cool that was, but the magnitude of the opportunity set in a few years later when I read works by those authors.
I was already an aspiring writer in high school (really since age 6), but that ambition was both vague and tempered then. I was well aware that for many writing is a long road. My goals at the time were to write often in my free time and to collect broad life experiences. During Fuller’s talk at my high school it may have flashed through my mind that someday I wanted to stand where she was. But that hope and desire, I knew, was too bright at 16 to try to actually hold.
In my early twenties, I made a few fleeting forays toward the Big Dream. I was deep in Kerouac idolatry and tried in little ways to be him. I toted a small journal around in my purse and jotted down stream-of-consciousness thoughts and observations whenever I had a spare moment. Even at work, even at 3am after partying. One of my jobs included working a reception desk, and my supervisors were indulgent enough to look the other way when I stuck my nose in a book if things were quiet.
I solicited feedback from my former college professors as well as esteemed local journalist Paul Andersen. I got a two-page essay into my university’s alumni magazine and a tiny freelance contract with a trail-conservation start-up (a whopping $300).
When other parts of life pushed in, like landing a full-time job with benefits and developing a hiking and mountaineering obsession, writing receded to the background for many years. Stumbling into journalism early last year was an unexpected but delightful twist of fate. But applying to Aspen Summer Words this spring felt like an audacious, nothing-to-lose, near-delusional endeavor. I’m a good little dreamer, though, and was well prepared for rejection.
But I was accepted.
So I walked into the conference a few weeks ago feeling breathless, joy poised to spill from my eyes down across my cheeks. How had I arrived at this communal oasis along an unknowably long expedition? And, in so doing, found a whole tribe gathered — far larger than the small groups of writers (mostly introverts) who meet occasionally in this valley.
Aspen Summer Words is a week stacked with both juried and open workshops, plus breakfast and lunch each day for scribblers to get better acquainted and talk broader projects. I was accepted into one of this year’s juried memoir workshops with West Coast-based, beat-phenom Joshua Mohr at the helm.
Mohr, who has churned out indie novels since his 2009 debut, published a relapse memoir, “Model Citizen,” in 2021. His work is by turns searing, filthy and even Vonnegut-funny and irreverent. He also excels as a teacher. Mohr aptly calls writing conferences “nerd church” for the devotion attendees have in discussing and contemplating words. Sessions with him were uplifting and informative, full of valuable perspectives on facets of craft.
During meals and the open panels, all attendees showed an air of excitement and motivation, unlocking doors to better carry works forward. For aspiring writers, Aspen Summer Words is more than worth the price of admission. (Even if, like me, you resort to crowdfunding to cover the tuition). The conference is joyful and restorative, a threshold into a foyer of the more formal writing world. Take it from someone who applied with only the faintest notion of getting in: It’s well worth the leap.