writerly world: news & tidbits
May 2024
In this issue: artist residency; write around the world; summer workshops; writing from prompts & sub ops; pencil editing; acceptance/rejection/revision.
community at creekside arts
This week I began my 3-week writing residency at Creekside Arts, nestled among coast redwoods on Wiyot land in Humboldt County, CA. All 7 multidisciplinary artists (writers, poets, painters, dancers, performers, sculptors, ceramicists) stay in private living quarters (cottage, bungalow, cabin, treehouse, tiny houses, Airstream) with individual work/studio spaces. I immediately made myself at home in a spacious yet cozy cottage, which includes a separate bedroom, living room/kitchen & writing playshop—with decks & picture windows under towering trees where ospreys nest.
My daily routine begins in the nearby hot tub with a soak while I read Braiding Sweetgrass, then making hot breakfast cereal & pour-over coffee. I handwrite in journals at the picnic bench or fire circle, read in an armchair or outdoors, and work on my big-picture project in the studio: interconnected essays on Featherknoll Farm. Based on experience, observation & interviews with my late in-laws, Nels & Pearl, it includes their rural upbringings plus aging & caregiving with Parkinson’s & cancer followed by hospice care & the grief that comes with loss and change. At its heart, these are stories of love—for the families, life partners, and land we belong to.
Open Call for Writers for the FALL RESIDENCY at Creekside Arts:
September 8–15, 2024. Completed applications due June 1.
Aside from dedicating time to writing & reading, our calendar is chock full with artist mixers, happy hours & neighborhood potlucks. (I also signed up at a nearby health club where I’ve taken yoga and Latin Fusion dance classes.) In addition, all 7 of us participate in a Community Engagement project—I’ll lead a 2-hour AWA Method workshop session for a dozen neighbors next Saturday—plus sharing our work at Creekside Arts in the 24th North Coast Open Studios on June 8 & 9.
For me, this residency is also a homecoming. In my late twenties I swapped San Francisco for the fishing village of King Salmon, and later Arcata (& I had a boyfriend who lived in Trinidad). It was a formative 3 years in the late ‘90s, working on the North Coast Rape Crisis Team while witnessing clearcut logging of old-growth redwoods. I left just before Headwaters Forest Preserve was established in 1999 due to activists like Julia Butterfly Hill, who documented her 2-year tree-sit in a platform 18 stories high in The Legacy of Luna, a 1,000-year-old tree she saved from destruction.
“We’re not promised any amount of time. All we’re given is this moment… What are you going to do with the story of your life? Make it count. Make it matter.”
— Julia Butterfly Hill, 2024 on Instagram
While Luna still stands on protected land, the parcel is surrounded by Pacific Lumber property, so I plan to hike the Elk River Trail through Headwaters where I once trespassed with a synagogue to plant seedlings as protest on Tu B'Shevat (the New Year of the Trees). Slowly I am remapping my relationship to place.
I already went birdwatching at the Arcata Marsh and will hike the Hikshari' trail leading to the Elk River Wildlife Sanctuary—part of Mouralherwaqh, the 46-acre forestland and coastal property the Wiyot reclaimed for ecological stewardship in a Tribal acquisition of ancestral lands in 2022. Healing is happening.
sounds of joy
I awaken to a chorus of birdsong each morning. This week I attended The Sound of Joy, an online writing workshop in celebration of Spring with Linda Broder—part of Write Around The World, which raises funds for the scholarship programs of Amherst Writers & Artists (AWA). In addition to playing the piano, harp, rain spiral & singing bowls as writing prompts, she offered the poem “Kindness” by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, who will be the keynote at this year’s AWA Professional Development and Writing Retreat in early October. Below are poems I wrote from:
“out of the same soil / which is, of course / not at all the same soil / but new”
— Rosemary Wahtola Trommer
Transplanted back to my homeplace, a temporary space I migrated to
in my twenties, a seed on the wind, a whim, planting myself
like a weed—thriving, despite drought, although it rained plenty
a downpour, an outpouring, the double rainbows providing hope,
color bands stretching sky like waterfowl descending at dusk
to roost in safe havens among reeds while I, solitary,
watched from a rock on the shore, always longing for more.On this rotating planet revolving around the sun, a revolution
decades ago kept some old-growth redwoods standing, a resolution
to preserve these groves. I resolve to embrace their hollowed trunks
encircling scarred earth, resonant with time before the chainsaw,
their canopies hundreds of feet high, crowns inviting ospreys
who nest with branches fallen from winter storms, their squeaky
cries joining the morning whistlers like singing bowls chiming
under an almost-full moon, this ripped-apart land reseeding
where dams came down and salmon return to spawn, the rain
saturating soil now blossoming pink with rhododendron.
more sessions with AWA
There’s still a week left of Write Around The World! At least one online writing session is offered each day, with upcoming themes like Writing about Mothering, Writing the Body, Strange Words, Writing as Spiritual Practice, and Narrative Medicine. Pay $20–40 per session, or attend 5 groups for $15 each or 10 for $14 each.
This month I also led two sessions for WAW: Treasured Objects and Lit Mags & Publication. The former was an intimate yet mighty group of four, including one writer who referred to my leadership style as “softness with structure,” plus AWA board secretary Carla Hanson who loved my scaffolded prompts and reflected:
“You’re a great facilitator!” Board treasurer guy howard klopp attended the latter session with 9 participants, calling my facilitation “smooth as butter.”
Susan Wingert, a member of AWA’s monthly Facilitator’s Salon, emailed to share the group’s interest in learning more about sending work out for publication. She asked me to consider offering a how-to workshop. Stay tuned!
summer writing workshops
My next 8-week workshop series, From Memory or Imagination, runs June 12–Aug 7 (skipping July 3), 10am–12 noon PT. Registration deadline is next Friday, May 31.
Each session follows the AWA method. Rather than critique just-written work, we practice deep listening and mirror back what is strong and memorable in the writing. This approach allows for uninhibited experimentation without causing damage to a writer’s distinct voice and artistic self-esteem.
Here's what recent participants experienced in my 30th workshop series:
writing in community is so wonderful & validating!
sharing generosity, kindness, humor, intelligence & imagination
joy of connection with such gracious, talented women
I feel seen, witnessed, empathized with
I didn’t know what I wrote had value until I read it out loud & heard responses
these mornings have become a precious gem: each voice enlivening my spirit
the range of emotions I experience from gifts of story
Cost is $240 for the 8-week series (no drop-ins). Women & nonbinary writers with any experience are welcome. Please use the Contact Form on my website to inquire.
prompted writing
I’ve posted two pieces sparked from prompts in my last workshop: a poem by Basha Hirschfeld, "Being A Mother," and another piece by Barbara Sapienza, “Mamma Mia, Gloria, Happy Mother’s Day”—each expressing challenging aspects of motherhood.
Karen FitzGerald, a former workshop participant, has publications in The Ekphrastic Review and Dorothy Parker’s Ashes plus acceptance by The AutoEthnographer. I recently used her poem, “This Women’s Pantoum,” published in Ariel Chart, as a prompt.
Read each piece or their prompts, then set aside a few minutes. Write whatever comes.
Wonderful writing also emerged from my aforementioned WAW session with prompts provided by several literary magazines seeking new pieces. I included 3Elements Review, which provides three words, or elements:
“For our spring issue, the 3 elements are: Wedding dress, Crowd, Anchorage.”
Your story or poem doesn’t have to be about or even revolve around them; simply use your [memory or] imagination to create whatever you want. Deadline: May 31.
blue pencil editing
Amherst Writers plans to launch its Blue Pencil program to the public next month! You can sign up for an editing session with an AWA-trained mentor who will review up to three poems or 10 pages of prose and include comments on the manuscript. During a scheduled 30-minute consultation, you’ll receive supportive guidance to develop the work and encouraging feedback to deepen your craft as a writer.
You can choose among 10+ mentor editors, including me, from the Directory.
$70 Full Price Blue Pencil Session/$50 Discounted for Writer & Affiliate Members
acceptance, rejection & revision
Four weeks ago I received a Submittable notice from Ann Beman, CNF editor at Tahoma Literary Review, indicating they were “moving ‘Roadside Markers’ to the next round of reading.” A week later, Amy Wright at Zone 3 accepted the flash piece: “We love it and would like to publish it in the next issue.” It was still under consideration at several publications, including Lunch Ticket, The Common, and Storm Cellar.
Lit mag protocol for simultaneous submissions is to withdraw a piece from consideration when accepted elsewhere. Only once before was something accepted by two pubs within the same day when I had to decline one of them. What to do? Before signing a letter of agreement granting Zone 3 First North American serial rights, I reached out to TLR to explain the situation in case they were on the cusp of a decision.
“ ‘Roadside Markers’ is an excellent piece. I could not commit to publishing the essay, but I'd love to see more of your work in the future.” — Ann Beman, TLR
Meanwhile, Zone 3 published an online issue sans mine, and hasn’t replied to a note I sent 3 weeks ago asking about publication date & payment. Hmmm…
In other news: “The Ties That Bind”—the opening chapter to my memoir-in-essays, Just Some Things We Can’t Talk About—was turned down in standard form by The Sun magazine last Friday. However, one week before I received a prized personalized rejection with an invitation to resubmit it for consideration at The Rumpus:
“… and while we ultimately felt it wasn’t right for us, I wanted you to know that we love your voice and I hope you'll submit a revision of this essay to us again in the future. Our editors felt that it didn't yet stand on its own fully, so could the narrator do a bit more reflection and provide some further contextualization to situate the narrator today in relation to the scenes?… I hope that's helpful feedback…”
While they can't guarantee acceptance, they hope that I “have many productive writing days in the months to come.” For now, I’m off to the woods again.