Retreat-o-rama

Last week, I went on a personal retreat. By this I mean that I went off the grid, alone. No Internet, no phone, no running water. No companions, no guest speakers, no workshops. Just me and my laptop in a cabin in the Wisconsin woods.

Peace Cabin

Peace Cabin at Stargazen Women's Retreat. The owners kindly cut me a deal on rent since it was the off-season.

This was my second personal retreat of this nature. The previous one was a six-day stint at SuBAMUH in southeastern Ohio, two years ago. Six days in near-solitude turned out to be on the long side for me, so this time I tried four days at Stargazen Women’s Retreat. I think next time I’d split the difference. Considering travel time and settling-in time, four days didn’t feel like quite enough.

Peace Cabin, Inside

Peace Cabin, from the inside. Bed, couch, kitchenette... just about everything but running water.

I totally lucked out in terms of the weather. All week, it was sunny and in the 70s. It could have proved distracting, but I managed to stay more or less on task. There was a big, grassy hill near my cabin where I took my notebook, my books, my guitar, and even my laptop to work and rejuvenate. Spending hours undisturbed in the warm sun, in October no less, made the retreat worthwhile right there.

Squirrel

Squirrel outside my window. I eventually saw some deer, too, farther off in the woods.

My goals for the retreat were basic: to get away from my regular day-to-day life (especially that great time-waster, the Internet) and work on my current writing project. When I set more specific goals, I find I constantly have to reevaluate and revise them. It takes longer than I thought to write a scene; I thought I could plow ahead with the plot, but it turns out I need to go back and revise first; etc.

And spending several hours per day writing, rather than my usual one or two, forces me to confront problems that I may otherwise spend days dancing around. On this retreat, I discovered that something I’d considered a central plot point late in the story just didn’t make sense; the story as I was writing it did not lead to that place. It was time for me to stop trying to force it and accept that the characters had other plans.

Trees Through the Window

Another view from my window. I was the only person on retreat that week, so mainly I saw a lot of trees.

I went a full 48 hours without human interaction, but I broke from my retreat one afternoon to meet up with Julie Bowe, fellow writer, Chudney Agency client, and friend. We met up at Norske Nook, a Scandinavian restaurant known for its pies. They didn’t disappoint. I tried lefse (“Norwegian burrito!” Julie said), the sour cream raspberry pie, and locally made root beer—yum. Even better was the conversation with Julie.

Julie Bowe and Me

Today's specials: Julie Bowe and me at Norske Nook.

When and where will I retreat again? I don’t know. The larger question for me, as I think it is for anyone who’s been on retreat, is how to carry home the openness, reflection, and diligence I experienced in the woods and not to slip back into the day-to-day. I fear it’s already too late—that it was too late the minute I walked back into my apartment and checked my Facebook account—but it’s something to strive for.

Fall Journey

Tags

,

Fall can be wrapped up in one word: transition. Transition from hot weather to cold, lush foliage to bare limbs, long days to short.

Arguably we’re in constant transition as the Earth circles the sun, yet winter and summer somehow feel like destinations, as concrete as Breckinridge or the Bahamas. Spring and fall are the journeys between.

Live Monarch

Transitions are exciting. They spark the imagination. Hopes and fears flare as vividly as the leaves of a sugar maple a week past the autumnal equinox.

Everything is certain at the extremes of the year. We are guaranteed sweltering heat and humidity in July, ice, snow, and bitter wind in January. But in spring and fall, each day is a question. Will it be T-shirt or sweatshirt weather? Will I need my sunglasses, umbrella, scarf—or all three? Will today bring green buds to the trees, or will those same leaves, now brittle and brown, finally fall?

Maple Leaf

This fall seems to be full of transitions in my personal life, as well. My supervisor is retiring, and I wonder who will replace her. (I’m not applying for her position, but I’m on the interview committee.) I’m hoping to adopt a dog soon; it’s been four months since Carly died. But when and how will I find the right companion?

Sea Gull

I’m struggling with transitions in my writing, too. This summer I finished a major revision of a “new” project, and now I’m waiting to find out if my editor wants it. It’s hard shifting gears to work on something else. I’m free; I can do anything. The possibilities are tantalizing yet also overwhelming.

Dead Monarch

But today, I put aside my hopes and fears for a while to journey around town and enjoy the fall splendor. To appreciate the “getting there” without worrying about where “there” is.

Yellow Beach Flowers

Creative Writing at the Library: An Ongoing Lesson

Tags

,

Almost every summer, I lead a creative writing series for kids at my library, culminating in the production of a literary magazine. They produce the content; I do the typing, scanning, and formatting. We send it to a local printer to do the rest. Each child receives three copies of the magazine. We also add two copies to the library collection and post a PDF on the library website.

I’ve varied the series format a bit from year to year: the number and length of sessions, the age of the kids, the activities, the amount of free time. My modifications are based on lessons learned the year before—lessons learned the hard way. This year went fairly smoothly, though. I’ll still have some lessons to apply next summer, but there were also some things that really worked.

Program Format

Kids had to be entering grades 3 and up. Due to self-selection, the oldest were entering 6th. I capped registration at 30 and set up the room with tables and chairs for 24. Attendance on any given week never exceeded this number.

We had four weekly meetings during the month of July. Each meeting was 90 minutes long. The first 30 to 40 minutes, we did some kind of group activity or writing game. Then kids worked independently. Once they were busy, I called tables up to get a snack. The snacks were simple, if not the most healthy: white corn chips, unsalted pretzels, sandwich cookies, and water. The chips were most popular.

The last 5 to 10 minutes were reserved for cleanup and, on some days, sharing. I had mixed feelings about the sharing. Some kids were eager to share, but I had trouble getting the rest of the class to listen. This is why I’m not a teacher.

Writing Games

The best activities, I found, were the ones that got kids interacting with each other and sometimes even moving around a bit. Ninety minutes is a long time to be sitting and working alone. (NB: None of these games originated with me. If you trawl the web, you’ll find all kinds of variations.)

Plot from a Bag

This was a great icebreaker for our first session. I packed a laundry bag full of ordinary, unrelated objects: a can of split pea soup, a tennis racket, a roll of toilet paper, etc. I began the story, “Once upon a time…” and blindly pulled out an object. The challenge, then, is to somehow incorporate the object into the story. For example, I pulled out a tube of toothpaste, so decided to start our fairy tale with a royal dentist. I then walked around the room with the bag, and everyone took a turn until the bag was empty.

(Idea from Jennifer Knoblock)

Magnetic Poetry

This turned out to be an interesting exercise not only in creativity but in cooperation. Emulating magnetic poetry sets, I printed out a bunch of fun, vivid, and functional words on cardstock. It’s important to have “people, place, and thing” nouns and regular verbs to which you can add “s,” “ed,” or “ing.” I also included adjectives, adverbs, prepositions, pronouns, and articles. You don’t actually need magnets.

Each table got an envelope of words, and their task was to create a poem or story with them. Some groups embraced the activity and tried to use up almost all their words, with great success. Other groups nitpicked or argued. It was definitely interesting to see the “personalities” come out.

Fortunately, Unfortunately

I started this activity by reading Remy Charlip’s classic Fortunately. Even though it’s a picture book, it’s funny and engaging, plus it’s a great example of how to keep a plot moving through changes in a character’s fortune. Afterward, the kids paired up to write their own story. I gave them a chart something like this:

Fortunately…
Unfortunately… Fortunately…
Unfortunately… Fortunately…
(etc.) (etc.)
Fortunately…

On my charts, I’d actually ended with an “unfortunately,” but the optimist in me prefers to end on an up note. As an aside, it was truly impressive how many ways the kids came up with to kill off their characters…sigh.

Mad Libs

By our fourth session, I was running out of steam, but this was an easy activity to pull off. Ahead of time, I prepared a “Mad Libs” style story-starter of about 100 words, leaving out about a dozen key words. In class, I read off the missing parts of speech, and kids produced their answers on a sheet of notebook paper. Next, I passed out the story-starter worksheets, and the kids filled in the blanks. Then they continued the story.

I missed the group-work element in this activity. Next time, I might prepare two story-starters so that one kid can take my role in reading off the missing parts of speech. Then they can switch off.

Challenges and Lessons Learned

In years past, I’ve dealt with sibling rivalry, girl-boy rivalry, inappropriate behavior, all of which were problems that—whether due to this year’s format or the kids who participated—weren’t an issue this year. But, of course, there were other challenges.

Appropriateness

This was my biggest struggle. I told the kids at the beginning of the program that this wasn’t school and I wasn’t going to ask them to write about particular topics. However, a few kids took this to meant that anything went—especially blood and guts and potty humor.

I didn’t want to be a censor, but there are limits as to what I’m willing to put in a magazine that will be scene by parents, grandparents, my boss, and the Library Board. However, explaining this to the kids in question didn’t seem to make an impression. After all, gory deaths and gross-out humor are popular at any age.

It was when one kid finally said, “Ohhh… you mean it has to be appropriate,” that I realized the word meant something concrete to them. They heard it from parents. They heard it from teachers. Now, they’ll hear it from me, too.

By the way, lest you assume boys were the worst offenders…they weren’t.

Comic Strips

Even though it’s ostensibly a creative writing program, kids were also welcome to draw illustrations and comic strips. A lot of the boys, especially, loved drawing comics. What they don’t love is drawing the boxes themselves.

After the first session, I put together a worksheet that consisted simply of a grid of boxes. No more rulers required, no more lopsided “squares.” Kids could stick to the fun part: filling in the boxes with funny drawings and explosions.

Author Visits

In past summers, we’ve sometimes had an author visit/workshop in place of a literary magazine meeting. Sometimes, we’ve had barely half a dozen attendees. In contrast, last year, when we didn’t offer the lit-mag series, we invited Marlene Targ Brill to do two writing workshops for kids instead. They attracted dozens of kids.

This year, we didn’t offer an author visit during the summer. On the whole, I think this was an acceptable choice. There were a lot of other activities going on, and since the creative writing series was only four sessions long, there wasn’t the opportunity to incorporate it into our schedule. But perhaps next year we can make an author visit a separate event and attract even more kids.

In Conclusion…

That’s it! I always forget what a huge amount of work assembling and formatting the magazine is after the program is over. But no matter how many challenges the summer has offered, it always seems to turn out beautifully—and I start wondering what I’ll do with the kids next year!