Scarlett Letters

I spent last Wednesday through Sunday at the Rainforest Writers Village on Lake Quinault on the Olympic Peninsula. It's a beautiful location and never fails to take my breath away when I arrive each year. It was, as it always is, a productive time, a social time, and a time for introspection.

Some folks, while at retreat, produce as much as 20,000 words over the course of 5 days. I am in awe of such productivity. Myself, I produced a little over 5,500. I have learned that on my good writing days, about 1,000 words is what I can expect to produce before my brain is done. That being the case, I did pretty well. It's 5,500 more words I have now than when I left, and the time and the work produced a lot of good thought about the project that I spent most of my time on. During those days, I also provided feedback to someone else on a story, I attended some really good seminar/discussions about craft (if learning is remembering what we already know, then I always learn at these things), and I got to thinking about and revisiting a story of mine that I adore that I've never quite managed to get right. I also, as it happens, took a terrific hike with Janka Hobbs; went on an Elk Quest with davidlevine, Janka, Susan Matthews, and a number of others (elk sometimes congregate on a nearby golf course in the morning; we missed them); and had, among the many fine meals of the week, dinner at the Rain Forest Lodge with David, Jeremy Bloom, Diana Pharoah Francis, and Amy Thomson.

Dinner among the trees and the writers:


Last night, I was on the phone with davidlevine about said short story. This particular piece is bound up in my personal issues in a way very few other stories I've written have been. We hashed out questions that I've never asked before, examined characters who have gotten short shrift in my meditation about it, and I considered starting the story in a different place than where it begins now. This morning, I find myself meditational about it, not quite ready to dive into a redraft, but feeling myself on the way.

I also met some great people and reconnected with a couple of folks whom I haven't seen in a while. I find myself wanting very much to maintain those connections and to nurture them. Time and opportunity will provide, I hope. I'm thinking about advocating for a get-together at Norwescon.

I am also transitioning back into the real world. Yesterday, I worked at home, sorted and posted photos from the retreat, did some smashed penny club administration. Today will be real-life full bore: working at the office and getting back to my freelance project--so much to do. The days aren't long enough to accommodate my to-do list or my aspirations. And as always, coming out of a retreat, I find it hard to make sacred space for my writing. I need to do that, though. One thing at a time.

My Flickr set includes all the pictures I took (not as many as I thought), but said set doesn't include any pictures of me. Here are a few from the party on Saturday night where there was whiskey, margaritas, a ukelele and lots of singing.

Singing along:


Our epic rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody looked a little like this:


I couldn't resist choral directing the last few words of the song, because I'm like that: "Any way the wind bloooows . . .":


Photos by Andrew Williams