Showing posts with label Anam Cara Writers and Artists Retreat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anam Cara Writers and Artists Retreat. Show all posts

Thursday, 24 September 2009

WEEKLY POST Sept 24


(Pic:Sunset from Anam Cara.)

Retreat Roundup
I had a wonderful two weeks at Anam Cara Writers’ and Artist’s Retreat. A full fortnight to work hard, focussing on nothing else - plus two days for travel. And lots of good creative company, all under the conductor’s baton of owner Sue Booth-Forbes who among other incarnations has been an editor at Cambridge University Press, and whose input into my writing life is invaluable, always.
Some great company, some fantastically useful conversations. Lots of laughs. Most residents were there for a few days to a week, except Eileen, a Professor of design from Syracuse NY, who is staying for five weeks. I very much enjoyed her company – although we were working on very different projects, we fell into a routine and seemed to have productive days and frustrating days in synch. And many laughs during walks and swims.
Yes, swims. The weather was more than kind- we enjoyed a whole week of unbroken sunshine at one point. It was perfect for walking, and I tried to get out most days. But also perfect for swimming. There is no Gulf Stream on this coastline; it is seriously freeeeeeeezing! But for once, being chubby has its advantages. (!) Once in, I could swim for ages, dead from the neck down. Which is arguably better than dead from the neck up...
There is a lovely beach almost at the end of the peninsular, where we took a picnic lunch one day and swam in clear cold water accompanied a little way out to sea by brilliant white gannets with black wingtips, diving for fish. The crow-like black birds that flew over our heads as we swam were choughs. Please note: The pink blob in the water is meself.


But most days, it was lovely to sink into the Anam Cara routine.
8.30 meet in the kitchen for breakfast – cooked by Sue. Porrige, bacon, waffles, pancakes, duck egg scramble, tomatoes… endless and blissful.
9.30 off to the room to collect the thoughts and start work. I often worked in the grounds.
1.30 lunch all ready in the kitchen. Either collect it and go, or:
2.30 back to work
5.30 technically the end of the working day, but I sometimes carried on or went out for a walk then. Down to the village of Eyeries and on down to the sea, where there are rocks you can sit on, listening to the waves.
7.30 dinner is ready in the kitchen.
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(Pic: A quick sit-down with Jack the Dog.)

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Work.
So what did I do? I wrote about 15,000 new words including a completely new section of the novel. My wordcount is now over 90,000 words. Really? Yes, really.
I finished rewriting another two sections, added a new character to one section, identified areas of work neeed in others, especially on the voice. I reconfigured, organising sections into three or four separate chapters. I wrote a contents page. That was really useful, for structural considerations...

Subliminal inter-species communication.

One day I wrote poetry. The cows in the fields around us had been calling all night. Both Eileen and I only cat-napped that night, so we discovered at breakfast. And we both had painful dreams about children. It turned out that the cows had their calves taken away the day before.
I wrote a poem and several haiku that morning. My first haiku experience – and it is SO hard to get the right words when you are only allowed seventeen syllables. (Some conventions say a different number. I chose that one.) It was lovely too, to get an email that day from poet Caroline Davies, and to swap some work.

Green and blue cliffs…
One afternoon, needing a change of scene, I drove to Allihies and the copper mines. The new museum is very good, and there is now a marked walk/road to all the mine sites. Allihies is littered with old engine houses, mine shafts, and other relics of the industry. The cliffs still run bright green/blue with malachite in places. I spent hours walking over the hills, visiting the ruins, listening to the wind in what’s left of the mine chimneys.
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.Two hags...
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I always make time to visit The Hag. Legend has it that her man went to sea and she promised to wait for him. He never returned, and she is still waiting on the rocks. Another legand says that she was a witch with great powers, who challenged a Christian saint when he arrived to convert the populace. He turned her to stone. Whatever, The Hag of Beara is covered in gifts from women. Coins, ribbons, flowers, fishing lures, messages, coloured stones. Toys. She is also the centre of witchery in these parts. last year when I visited, taking her a coin, there was a half-burned doll at her feet. Blackened plastic face, hair gone... seriously spooky.

Short Circuit, a Guide to the Art of the Short Story
The proofs of ‘my’ forthcoming text book, (due out soon from Salt Publishing) arrived mid-stay. I sent the file to all the contributors to proofread their chapters. Very exciting.

Booking for 2011!

Finally, a week-long short fiction/inspiration workshop has been arranged for May 2011. It will be lovely to teach in this most inspirational of places, with boundless resources right at our fingertips. Places will be limited, and I guess it will be publicised nearer the time.

Bridget Whelan, Bernadette Cremin

An added bonus of my stay was an event on Sunday 20th, one in a series of literary events held at Anam Cara that raise funds for various charities. This was a stop on a publicity tour by novelist Bridget Whelan, together with performance poet Bernadette Cremin. And the fundraising is for the provision of fresh water to a village school in Uganda, which will save the children daily hours of lugging filthy water from a swamp used as a watering hole by cattle and pigs, for drinking washing and cooking. It will save lives, in more ways than one.
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Talking of water- there is something adrift with the water supply in the area, so we had to draw drinking water from the well in the village for the duration of my stay. The water tastes peaty, and rich. It makes toothpaste taste very odd...
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(Pic: Tina Pisco and Sue drawing water, Eyeries village pump)

I came back relaxed, pleased with progress, thankful for creative friends both old and new. Within a couple of hours of arriving back, fellow writers Jo Cannon and Claudia Boers arrived to stay while they attend the Asham Atelier, part of the Small Wonder Festival. Today, Tania Hershman arrives, and tomorrow, Selma Dabbagh. A house full.

Other news
There is actually too much, but for the moment, just this:

Tales of the Decongested

Selma and I are reading tomorrow night at Foyles Charing Cross Road, for Tales of the Decongested. 7.00 pm for anyone who is about and wishes to hear a tale of woe and colonic irrigation…


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.(All pics by Eileen. Sunset pic edited by me)

Monday, 7 September 2009

SIX THINGS I AM HAPPY ABOUT


1) Going to Anam Cara Writers and Artists's Retreat, on the Beara Peninsular, West Cork. The pic above, on their website, was taken by moi a year or so back. It shows the swing seat in the conservatory, which has a view out over the gaden then to the hills on the next headland. People ask why I need to go away when I have a perfectly good house, study, here. I tell them it is because I get work done there at a depth I rarely manage at home. I switch out of being a wife, a mother, a daughter, a housewife, a colleague, a reluctant forgetful shopper (our fridge is full of dead things) and a procrastinator, and I become nothing but a writer. Sue-Booth Forbes has created the perfect environment for working in, keeps us fed fabulously well, insists on work and not natter between 9.30 am and 5.30 pm. Books live everywhere. One gets the sense that they own the place, and graciously move back to their shelves to allow residents to share their space. It is like going to my spiritual home - I have never yet failed to write well when I am there, and wrote among other things I Can Squash the King, Tommo there (2nd, Bridport, 1st, Daily Telegraph), Silver Leaves for Judah Jones (Per Contra Grand Prize, and it provided me with so many of the images and feelings for the title story of Words from a Glass Bubble (2nd, Fish).
2)Having spent a summer holiday in Cornwall with my family. With the age gap we managed between our boys (14 years - we waited until the eldest could babysit (!))it is not often that we all get together these days - so to have them both with me was very special. Two six footers, of whom I am very proud. One established in his own business, and doing fine, married to a very special lady. The other entering his last year at school and being given many responsibilities. And thriving on it. What more can you ask of your kids than they grow up caring about others, honest, fun to be with, prepared to work hard and play hard... and far too bloody handsome for their own good.
3)I am happy that I have a mind that creates its own characters, images, connections, sparks, thunderclaps, mudpies and snowflakes. That I see things strangely. The potential in things. That my work surprises me, changes, shifts about and is not the same story repeated, clad in different rags. Someone said to me not that long ago: 'Look beneath the dressing. How many writers are actually repeating the same story like a broken record over and over again?'
4)I am happy that I find the hilarious side to things, even when they are sad. people are endlessly fascinating, funny, weird, strange. I am happy that I can stand back and see events sideways, and giggle at the absurdities of life, always. That I may get low, but it doesn't last. Did you read about the American woman who married the Eiffel Tower?
5)I am happy about creatures that seem to have no reason for being. Like wasps. They are actually stunningly beautiful. And animals we give dreadful names to. Like the dugong.
6) I am very very very happy to have discovered a software programme called Freedom, which allows me to ban myself from the internet for hours at a time on my Apple laptop.

Friday, 31 October 2008

ANYONE FOR ANAM CARA WRITERS RETREAT??


I am going over to Ireland on 11 November, for a week... flying Gatwick Cork, and driving a few hours to the beara, West Cork, staying one week, coming back 18th.

The lovely writer friend I was going with is very sadly unable to come, very suddenly. A - I send my love.

That means there is a spare place...


Please do contact me for any details, or contact Sue Booth Forbes at Anam Cara

WEBSITE HERE