Wildacres Report

That was the week that was.  About a hundred writers convene on the mountain for a week of workshops, music, partying, and quite a lot of silliness. 

There are student readings and faculty readings, a costume night (the theme was Outer Space and I went as a Hitchhiker as in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. It was a great costume for someone who's resistant to dressing up -- I carried my Kindle with the words DON'T PANIC in large friendly letters on the cover and also a towel "one of the most massively useful' things a galactic hitchhiker can carry. ) And on the last night is the legendary Gong Show -- extreme silliness.

There were nine in my novel workshop and all of them were great at critique. Each participant's 4,500 words got thoroughly examined and we all learned from one another. The students caught lots of things that I had missed and by the end of the week, everyone had not only revisions to consider but a lot of things to think about concerning the direction of their work. 

It's a grueling (wink) schedule. Five class meetings (half a day) and the rest of the time free to audit other classes, write, play music, wander around taking pictures of flowers, nap, or practice for the Gong Show.

I admit to some naps. I also read a lot and will report on my reading in another post.  Three walks a day helped offset the three meals that someone else cooked.

And best of all, I wrote. One very short piece about a place we lived in Florida, most of a piece about my accident two years ago,  and something that may be the beginning of a novel tentatively titled THE SPARROW WITCH, set in Appalachia in the present day and the Twenties..

Wildacres Writers Workshop was recently listed by The National Geographic as one of a hundred places that will change your life. Students come from all over -- as far away as California, Hawaii, and, this year, even Australia.

Highly recommended for writers!

A Week on the Magic Mountain

Come July 7, I'll be leading a critique workshop at Wildacres -- aka The Magic Mountain. It's a week of learning and having fun with your fellow writers -- all of whom are serious about their work, whether they're new to the game or seasoned veterans. 

Classes meet either morning or afternoons (and there's one day off) to allow for attendees to sit in on other classes, hike, write, or just hang out. At night there are readings, jams, and parties. Plus box wine.

If John C. Campbell (where I'm teaching June 10-16) is summer camp for grownups, Wildacres Writers Workshop is its wild and crazy kid sister. 

Still, lots of good stuff is incubated in the various classes and writers from across the country make the yearly pilgrimage to the mountain to kindle or renew the writing flame. And drink box wine.

If this sounds like something you might be interested in, follow THIS LINK for complete information. If you still have questions about the workshop, feel free to ask me in the comments.

What Is It?

At Wildacres I found this mysterious arrangement at the base of a tree in the parking lot.

My first thought was of the Yunwi Tsundi -- the Cherokee Little People I've written of before. 

Then I decided it might be a charm of the sort my friend Byron Ballard (Asheville's Village Witch) works. The wrapped sticks could be prayer sticks; the pretty rocks, barred off by twigs, could represent wishes being kept safe . . .

What do you think?

A Week at Wildacres

See that picture above?  I like to think that's Inspiration pouring down on Wildacres -- the idyllic retreat just off the Blue Ridge Parkway that was the scene of a week of writing, teaching, learning, partying, and generally enjoying being in the company of about a hundred like-minded people. 

For two and a half gruelling hours a day (okay, there was one day off,) I met with a group of aspiring novelists/memoirists in the cute little building with the purple door.  My class, five men, four women, was diverse in age, experience, and genre. There were three memoirs from the guys-- one set in a North Carolina mill town during the Depression, one about the past and present of of a remote Blue Ridge Valley and the boy who grew up there, and a series of startling adventurous moments from a fella making use of his military and law enforcement background.

The other two fellas were writing novels -- one that I would characterize as a novel of manners -- kind of John Updike/Ann Tyler-ish (I mean this as high praise, by the way.)  The other (a  young man still in college) is working on a thriller/crime fiction type thing about some very bad guys and the Russian mob. This one was in the Elmore Leonard camp -- lots of good dialogue.

The four ladies (I think this was the first time ever that women have been in the minority in one of my classes) were also quite diverse in their subject. One was a well-crafted culinary cozy with a cute, zaftig protagonist who is a caterer; a second was a highly original dystopia -- I wish I could share some of the really cool details -- but I can't; the third was what I would characterize as an apocalyptic semi-cozy with a fascinating premise; and the fourth was a novel based on family history, mostly set in the past and present of a remote section of Mexico -- an area controlled by drug cartels. 

As I said -- diverse. Never a dull moment. 

How, you may ask, can folks writing such different things comment on one another's work? Very well, as a matter of fact. I was impressed at the depth and precision of the various comments, as well as the helpful, polite, and, above all, kind way in which said comments were offered. 

I make a point of warning my students that they won't learn from cheerleadering. ( Oh, I think your work is just wonderful...) and that, because of time constraints, we will probably focus far more on what's wrong with the work than what's right with it. The intent is always to help the writer improve his or her work by pointing out what isn't working and suggesting ways of fixing it. And, boy, oh boy, this group was full of terrific suggestions!  It was a real pleasure to work with them -- thank you, Alaine, Alex, David, Gale, John,  Kim, Lourdes, Leon, and Les!  Well done, all!

There were many other classes going on -- poetry, novels, short stories, creative non-fiction -- as well as student and faculty readings, a Mexican party night, and the extremely

silly Gong Show on the last night in which many extremely silly skits were performed. I was in the traditional faculty skit, typecast as a wicked witch . . . what a world, what a world!

And, best of all, I added several thousand words -- all in the right order and pretty good 

words at that -- to the work in progress.

Wildacres Writing Retreat - 2011

A poet lays a poem by my breakfast plate . . . a student’s reading moves me to tears . . . my class erupts in laughter at what is now a shared joke . . . a farm bell summons us to classes and meals… and always there is the beauty of the wooded campus and the pleasure of being surrounded by like minds -- others whose joy it is to play with words.

Faculty like Ron Rash and Phebe Davis. . .

Beautiful surroundings in which to socialize. . . or be alone with your hula hoops. . .

 

A faculty room much more interesting than the one you remember from high school . . .

Somebody else doing the cooking . . .

High atop the Blue Ridge Mountains, just off the Parkway . . . they call it the magic mountain.

I taught Commercial Fiction -- a grueling two hours a day with one day off. Back in June, each of the campers workshop participants  submitted about fifteen pages of their work in progress and all of us gave these pages our closest attention. During class, we discussed these pages, praising what we thought were the strengths and (gently) pointing out the weaknesses and suggesting ways to fix these problems.


We were dealing with all sorts of popular fiction -- thriller, sci-fi, chick lit, women's fiction, mystery, relationship stories -- and I was impressed with the level of writing and with the excellent critiques that emerged from our combined wisdom.

When the campers writers weren't in class, they were free to sit in on other classes, goof off, sight see, write, sleep . . .

 A lot of time was spent just hanging out. . .

There were faculty readings and student readings . . .  but it wasn't all work; there was considerable silliness.

Hollywood Night brought out some amazing characters. . . 
many of whom, I'd thought deceased. . .

 
Michael Jackson made an appearance --

Groucho and Harpo  looked on . . . and Marilyn was ravishing. . .

But wait! There's more! The final night was given over to skits and many an inside joke . . . The Gong Show is a yearly tradition and there's a whole room full of costumes, wigs, and props of various ilks.

A week at Wildacres Writing Workshop is an opportunity to hone one’s craft, to delight in the art of others, to sit at table with strangers who quickly become friends.

A little like summer camp with the bells, the communal meals, the skits, and the dress up night . . .

A little like beach week with the sense of having escaped from care and the jello shots, loud music, and dancing on the patio till the wee hours . . .

   And a little like Shangri-la, a place apart where wisdom can be found -- the Wildacres experience is probably slightly different for each attendee.

I highly recommend it.