In these weeks full of words like isolation, quarantine, flattening curves, N95 masks, social distancing and ventilators, it can be hard to find our own words. We miss our free-range poetry, and our independently-minded characters. We can feel trapped both in our homes and in our heads. Struggling with what to say seems appropriate right now. Our brains and hearts are overwhelmed. Who are we to play in our art when everything and everyone hurts? But this is the function of Art. The inspirational gold awaits at any moment when we bring ourselves to the page, and Take What Comes. Don’t dodge what is right in front of you. This is the moment we are given. Chronicle it, explore it, describe it, say it. I learned this lesson from my grandmother, Anna Elizabeth Jones. Her younger sister, Loretta, died in 1918 from the Spanish flu. Knowing my grandmother, I also know that Loretta shared her older sister’s humor and grit. At 19, she must have been an incredible young woman. Anna was one of the first telephone operators in New York City. She visited her sister in the hospital on her lunch hour and told her that she would be back that evening to visit again. Anna returned at 6:00 p.m. only to be told that in the intervening hours, Loretta had died. I have my grandmother’s eyes as she talked to me. I was a child and did not know to ask more questions. I did not want to cause my grandmother pain by wanting more details. But even in its brevity, I have this family story, and I know something of what my family experienced and what New York experienced at that time. I can see my grandmother sitting in a hospital hallway; I can hear the sound of traffic on the street below; I can feel my grandmother’s hand as she holds mine as she remembers. We live in history every moment. But some moments are underscored by triumph or catastrophe. Both are agents of profound change. Whether writing from memory or imagination, your writing will articulate this moment in poetry or prose. Take what comes, put your fears, your second-by-second strategies, the statistics, the vocabulary, the images, the conversations, the artifacts into your writing. Allow your writing to be where you are, where the world is. Escaping into writing is right too, both kinds of writing help us find balance. It’s also right to grapple and process. I take heart from my grandmother’s willingness to share her sister with me. I heard sorrow, but I also heard courage and love.
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All Workshops Are Now Online
Online Weekly Workshops Amherst, Massachusetts: Thursday Evenings & Friday Mornings, seven weeks beginning July 2 & 3, 2020. https://www.writingfulltilt.com/workshops/
Online Weekly Workshops: Monday Evenings six weeks beginning July 13, 2020. https://www.writingfulltilt.com/online-workshop/
Two-Day, Online Craft Seminars: Each seminar consists of four, 3-hour sessions focussed on elements of craft specific to a genre. Writing generated through prompts, followed by reading, discussion and examination of how choices shape effect. Give yourself a stay-at-home writing retreat! Cost: $200 for each seminar Poetry July 5 & 6 Memoir August 9 & 10 Fiction August 11 & 12
August Retreat Hawley, Massachusetts: Postponed to 2021 Four days of writing bliss. The setting is perfect for allowing your writing to emerge! https://www.writingfulltilt.com/retreats/
Writing Retreat in Malibu California February 22 – 25 2021: Serra Retreat Center overlooking Malibu Bay with tiled fountains, and hidden gardens offer the perfect winter getaway and a place to wander into your writing. All writers welcome, no matter the genre or experience level. There’s still room for you! https://www.writingfulltilt.com/retreats/
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