My Top 10 Reasons to Attend the Hedgebrook Spring Salon

Tags

Hedgebrook, Whidbey, women, writing

The Hedgebrook garden.

The Hedgebrook Spring Salon is on April 27–here are some reasons why you (yes, you!) should attend!

 

1. You’re a writer who needs a kick in the seat of her pants to slough off the winter grey and infuse your writing with sunshine.

2. Secretly, you wished you wrote 50 Shades of Grey and will greatly benefit from an erotica workshop with Jennifer D. Munro.

3. You want to unleash your inner rock star and will greatly benefit from studying songwriting with Sue Ennis (she writes songs for Heart, people!)

4. You’re an actress who has a play inside of you, waiting to be written. Amy Wheeler can help you with that. She’s a pro.

5. You’ve dreamt of participating in a poetry slam. Karen Finneyfrock is a superhero on this front and will help you let the fresh air into your poetry and other writing.

6. The food. It’s HEDGEBROOK food. Which means it’s extra delicious because Denise made it.

7. The open mic at the end of the day. I laugh and cry every time–it’s magical to hear writers read their work after experiencing the transformative power of mere hours at the retreat.

8. The wine that goes with open mic.

9. The opportunity to be in community and conversation with other like-minded, local women writers. Network and build your tribe.

10. Because you deserve it. Nurture the writer within yourself with the radical hospitality Hedgebrook has to offer and she will do cartwheels and write some of the most profound work you have ever come up with. I promise.

Register Now: http://www.hedgebrook.org/page.php?pageid=125

Farewell to NaNoWriMo, Hello Writing as Practice

Tags

Hedgebrook, NaNoWriMo, women

I participated in NaNoWriMo for the first time this past month.  The goal is to hit 50,000 words in 30 days.  My ending total was 31,041.  I’m proud of myself for participating and hope to make it an annual tradition.  One day, I will hit 50,000 words!

Today at Hedgebrook, we had our winter salon.  During the Q & A session after lunch, one of the questions asked of the panel of teachers was “How do you find time to write?”

Laurie Frankel started out by answering that paying for childcare is a good motivator.  It allows her to focus exclusively on the writing process and making the time count.

Carol Cassella continued by telling us to strike the word “finding” time and replace it with “making” time.

Donna Miscolta closed by telling the story of how she started writing.  She decided she wanted to be a writer when her children were 4 and 7.  She committed to writing every night at nine o’clock, after they had gone to bed.  She would spend between thirty to sixty minutes writing.

“Sometimes you only get a couple of sentences.  But over time, a couple of sentences make a paragraph.  A couple of paragraphs make a page.  And several pages make a book.”

She put it so simply and eloquently.

I struggled with NaNoWriMo because fiction is foreign to me.  I am much more comfortable writing poetry or creative non-fiction.  As the month went on, I started to feel encumbered by my own characters.  Who were these people and why did they need me to tell them what to do?

I fully intend on continuing to write Illicit Congress, in bits and pieces.  It has been extremely heartening to discover people who have been following the story the entire month.  I have friends who can’t wait to see what happens next.

The experience of NaNoWriMo, paired with the amazing energy at the Hedgebrook salon today made me realize that writing is essential.  It’s not something to be taken lightly, to be brushed off until after the laundry is done or after you’ve caught up with your favorite television shows.  Writing is a process that needs to become a daily ritual for me.  That is why one of my New Year’s resolutions is going to be to write a poem or a piece a day for a year.  Even if it’s a haiku.  Even if I have to sneak it in at 11:59 PM.

I will post most of what I write on this blog.  Thanks for reading.  It feels fabulous to have an audience, albeit a virtual one.  We divas need our stages.  Even if that stage is a blog.

Finding Freud

Tags

NPR, Whidbey, women, writing

Washington State Poet Laureate Kathleen Flenniken answers questions at the Coupeville Library.

Tonight, I got to hear Kathleen Flenniken read poetry at the Coupeville Library.  Her last poem was entitled “Coyote” and played on the two pronunciations of the word.  Which triggered this poem for me:

Finding Freud

My buoyant 10-year old self

loves to hear the sound

of her own voice.

She will read anything

out loud.

The insides of slick CD inserts,

chapters in textbooks,

synopses of television programs

found beneath the nightly

schedule in the newspaper.

Her mother is inundated

with menus of summer camps

for precocious children.

Most outside of the price range

of possibility.

10-year old me

reads these brochures out loud

to get a taste

of where her hungry mind

might go.

In a description of a class

about psychology

she sounds out “Free-oode”

(instead of Freud.)

Her mother muffles laughter,

then guffaws.

10-year old me

stops in her tracks.

Her voice crumbles.

She smiles sheepishly,

goes to her room

pretending to have homework.

***

Three years later,

I win a contest

to be a guest announcer

on a quiz show

broadcast

on Public Radio International.

I practice privately.

My mother

makes me read the script

out loud to her.

I comply begrudgingly.

The flawless end is in sight

except for tripping

on Ter-kelle.

Studs Terkelle.

My mother gently corrects

my mispronunciation.

Her eyes are kind.

“Terkel.  Studs Terkel.”

***

Oral or aural history,

it doesn’t matter

there will be these inevitable slips.

Push past them

to find greater resonance.

Every girl’s voice

deserves amplification.

Youth is not a handicap.

Gender should not be used

as a plunger mute

to surpress the timbre

of trumpeting.

Ode to Nylons

Tags

humor, women, writing

Gird your loins

and dress your wounds

before returning to battle.

Cushion your high heels

with orthopedic inserts.

Wrap pinky toes

in neutral bandages.

Approach the cellophane

package of death

with great caution.

Each fingernail and toenail

must be filed down

to harmlessness.

All hangnails,

exterminated.

Carefully, cut

the nylons free

from their

cellophane prison

and

c

a

r

e

f

u

l

l

y

point your right toe

with the grace

of a prima ballerina

and gingerly insert it

into the taupe-colored

cocoon

of elasticized fabric.

Point

and roll

point

and roll

inch by inch

up over the knee

gradually overcoming

the thick thigh.

Intermission.

Repeat with left

toe, calf, knee and thigh.

Stand up.

Roll the tummy-control panel

UP UP UP.

Shimmy and jump,

Shimmy and jump.

Return to sitting.

Pinch any extraneous fabric

with the meticulous nature

of an archeologist

removing dust

from a relic.

Move that extra fabric

up

from ankle

past knee

through thigh.

Repeat for left leg.

Stand again.

Wiggle and jump

Wiggle and jump.

Apply anti-static cling spray

generously

(be careful NOT to inhale.)

Now you may put on your dress

and heels.

Now that your nylons are properly applied.

(Be optimistic,

but keep clear nail polish in your purse

in case of inevitable runs.)

Becky’s New Car Takes the Audience for a Wild Ride!

Tags

acting, comedy, Whidbey, WICA, women

The cast and crew of Becky’s New Car. Photo credit Jim Carroll.

Suzanne Kelman is amazing.  She is one of those women I keep my eye on because secretly I want to be her when I grow up.  She brings this amazingness to the stage in Whidbey Island Center for the Arts production of Becky’s New Car, directed by Deana Duncan, which opened this Friday.

You may have heard the term “triple threat” associated with a certain actor or actress.  This phrase refers to a performer who can sing, dance and act well.  Suzanne is more of a quintuple threat and beyond, because she is also a screenwriter, choreographer–her list of artistic accomplishments is impressive and seemingly limitless.

Because of her diverse artistic background, Suzanne is able to approach the title character of Becky with a unique sense of awareness.  In this play where interaction with the audience is key, she is both ringmaster and curator of the evening.  And she is damn good it at it.  She gives us the gift of a Becky who is kind, lovable, quick-witted, hard-working, and not quite sure in which direction she would like her life to go.

In my opinion, the most enjoyable and excellent aspect of this production is the characters.  Each actor brings amazing depth and heart to his or her role.  Phil Jordan breathes life into Walter, the eccentric millionaire who any woman would consider cozying up to. Tom Harris embodies the role of Joe, the dependable husband with a dry sense of humor.  Newcomer Jeff Riggs is endearing as the perpetual free-loader son, Chris, studying for his graduate degree in psychology.  Athena Michaelides is stunning as Walter’s fashion-plate daughter, Kenni.  Eric Mullholland is hilarious as Becky’s co-worker, Steve, who is dealing with both grief and gorp.

And Patricia Duff is absolutely fabulous and stunning as Ginger, the granddaughter of a lumber barron who has recently lost most of her fortune.  It is worth the price of the ticket merely to see how well she wears and moves in her sparkling dress and high heels.

Becky’s New Car was originally commissioned by Charles Staadecker for his wife Benita’s 60th birthday in 2006.  Since its premiere at ACT Theatre in Seattle, the Staadecker’s have attended all of the opening nights of the more than two dozen productions around the country.

“People think commissioning a play is incredibly expensive,” Staadecker says. “It was a choice. You can choose to take a cruise. You can choose to buy a car. You can choose to go on a safari. You can choose to go two weeks to Paris. We took the same amount of money and choose to invest in art.”

It is well worth your while to spend a night at the theatre enjoying their investment.

Tickets are available by calling the WICA box office at 360.221.8268.  Tell them Ginger sent you.

Patricia Duff as Ginger. Photo credit Tyler Raymond.

The Joy of Women Who Eat

Tags

food, Hedgebrook, Pioneer Square, Whidbey, women, writing

One of the many fabulous spreads I have enjoyed since I started working for Hedgebrook.

I am sitting at a coffeeshop and catching up on some work.  On the way to the coffeehouse, the idea for this post came to me: writing about how awesome it is to be in the company of women who like to eat.  I mean really eat.

I am not talking about grabbing coffee or tea with friends and sharing a pastry.  Or having soup and salad with a friend and feeling vaguely virtuous afterwards.

I am talking about the joy of watching Kelsye, my co-worker, attack a meatball, turkey and bacon sandwich which dwarfed her small frame.  Or at Hedgebrook staff meetings where we take the first bite of whatever Denise has made us (her mac and cheese and enchiladas are my favorites). That first bite where all the women emit a visceral “Oh my GAWD this is so good!!!!” whether it’s audible or not.  (Sometimes that feeling comes out in a sigh of relief and appreciation, barely louder than a whisper.)

At Hedgebrook, you EAT.  You EAT with WOMEN.  Powerful women. Soulful women.  Intelligent women.  Irreverent women.  Women who have won Pulitzer Prizes.  Women whose writing you watch on television the next day.  Revolutionary women. Women who make you take stock of who you are, what are you doing to make the world a better place, what are you eating and the company you keep when you are eating.

When you are hired at Hedgebrook, I feel that part of the orientation should include an overview of feminist literature and a food and wine primer.  I am the youngest person on staff and still learning.  But one thing is for sure, when you work at Hedgebrook, you are surrounded by feminism and foodies.

Sometimes I work at the retreat on Whidbey, but most of my time is spent in our Seattle office.  No worries–we eat there, too.  In Pioneer Square, if you’re willing to hoof it a few blocks, you can get almost any kind of cuisine.  I have been lovingly introduced to spicy chicken pho and Beard Papa’s cream puffs at Uwajimaya.  One day the three of us walked almost all the way to Pike Place Market to a store that will cover almost anything in chocolate, only to realize on the way back that there was an identical store three blocks away from the office.

I love my co-workers, because we are instantly able to create a farmhouse kitchen table wherever we choose to eat lunch.  We immediately switch gears from talking about Twitter and databases to talking about preschools, favorite places to eat, where we all like to shop, pets, family…the list is endless.  But I love that we are able to switch from head-talk to heart-talk.  And eat good food while laughing and smiling.

Whether or not we acknowledge it, there is a collective mindset of nurturing our small but mighty satellite hive as well as filling our stomachs with warm, delicious sustenance.  Once we ate at an Irish pub for lunch.  We all ordered various burgers and pulled pork sandwiches.  Two men in their 50s or 60s sat next to us, eating caesar salads and drinking two or three beers.   We were having a very animated conversation about a news item citing the lack of childcare available at the Democratic National Convention.  I don’t know if it was the subject matter or volume that they found annoying, but there was a lot of eyebrow scrunching going on at the neighboring table.  But we didn’t care.  Because we were joyfully eating in the company of other women.

I had uploaded the picture for this post and left it to simmer while I worked on other projects.  I was then interrupted by a very thin, possibly drug-addled woman  who pointed at me and yelled through the window “You, YOU are a fat, crazy, stupid bitch!  Go work out!” and then staggered off.  I was shocked.  Then I abandoned my other projects and started blogging.  I can’t help but think that woman might be happier if she ate something.

Hope.

Tags

feminism, Hedgebrook, women

Hope is the thing with feathers.

Hope is a kind of planning.

 

In middle school, my favorite thing to wear was a ragged navy blue sweatshirt

with brightly colored orange letters that spelled out HOPE.

I was told it was college somewhere.

I had found it at Goodwill–

it was comfortable

and kept me warm.

I cut holes in the wrists so I could

poke my thumbs through.

That was fifteen years ago.

Upon reflection,

I would say I had more confidence then,

when I hadn’t yet grasped what my place was in society.

Listen: white, lower-middle-class Midwestern girl goes to

small liberal arts college,

obtains bachelors degree in Theatre/Dance.

Takes the occasional Women’s Studies class.

Gets jazzed.

Feminism starts as a toy,

becomes a necessity.

Girl/woman treks out to the West

serves with AmeriCorps,

gets a job working for a non-profit that champions

“Women Authoring Change.”

Feminism becomes a mandate.

Hope as well.

Although often the youngest at the table,

she/I takes note, takes hope.

Envisioning the time

when she has the right/write words to say

when the conversation gets heated.

When people don’t want to identify with feminism

when they discard it,

declare it unnecessary,

“We’ve come so far, why is this even still an issue?”

 

Hope sputters a little on the inside,

takes a deep breath

and whispers,

“Well, we may have come so far, but we still have so far to go. Step forward and raise your voice.  It has value.”

 

If you fan them in the right way,

sparks become flames.

 

Hope is a kind of planning.

Hope is the thing with feathers.

 

 

Kelsye, Kelsye, Kelsye…

Tags

Hedgebrook, social media, women, writing

When I grow up, I want to be like Kelsye.

If you have read the tagline of this blog, you may have been wondering who Kelsye is and why I needed to out-Klout her…

Kelsye is the new Marketing/Communications goddess at Hedgebrook. She is the most famous person I know on Twitter and have actually met.

Luddite that I was, I had not yet heard about Klout. As soon as tech-savvy-super-famous-Kelsye told me about it, I knew the gauntlet had been thrown down.

“A really good way to improve your score is to maintain a blog,” she said, not suspecting my ulterior motives.

Done and done.  Starting and maintaining this blog have been important and rewarding to me.  Cathartic even.  As we go through the strategic planning process at Hedgebrook, there is much discussion about how we are committed to giving women equal voice and empowering them to take their space in the world to tell their stories.

Kelsye is an inspiration.  Being in proximity to her and her unrelenting passion for writing and writers on a daily basis makes me sit down when I get home at night and compose new blog posts.

Really, she does amazing things.  She is off to save spider monkeys as I’m typing this.  Check her out on Twitter: @Kelsye

Or peruse her kick-ass project, Writer.ly : a “Marketplace of independent publishing services.” Click here!

Even though Klout has recently changed their algorithm and I no longer lord over Kelsye, I heartily enjoyed the brief span of weeks while I reigned supreme.

Drinking Mint Juleps at Double Bluff

Tags

Hedgebrook, Whidbey, women, writing

 

The most delicious mint juleps

have ingredients from the Hedgebrook garden:

there is the mint, freshly harvested,

a quickly concocted simple syrup,

expedited by ice (and wanting),

and a splash of Jack Daniels,

left by a writer long gone

(now our inheritance).

Sipping slowly at the beach

we watch the sky turn from

blue to pink

(whispering premonitions of dusk).

The conversations bubbles ravenously.

Do actual books exist in the future?

Which toilet is the most prudent

to order for a stay in Antarctica?

Is there a hope of ever really unplugging?

There are seven of us around the table

each of us a day in the week,

Aphrodite is here,

also Athena.

They chuckle from beneath tide pools

and beyond mountain tops.

This picnic table is an altar

to the divine feminine,

as we raise our glass

to say “cheers.”

 

50 Years of Farewell to Marilyn

Tags

comedy, women

 

I first saw Marylin Monroe in the movie Some Like It Hot.  When I was bored, I would go over to my neighbor’s house.  She was a Mary Kay lady in her 50s who knitted a lot and also watched old movie musicals.  I was enthralled.  I fell in love with Gene Kelly, Fred and Ginger, and, Marilyn.

I remember reading Blonde by Joyce Carol Oates during my college years.  The novel is a fictionalized biography.  It is both dark and comic.

This past year, I watched the television series SMASH (created by Hedgebrook alumna Theresa Rebeck).  I will remain forever enthralled with Marilyn as an icon.  She holds a place in my pantheon of sheros: Gilda Radner, Lucille Ball, Mae West, Nora Ephron, Julie Taymor, Kristen Wiig, Amy Phoeler and Tina Fey (among others).

This post is short and sweet.  Just a little nod, a remembrance, for an eternally beautiful entertainer.  I will close with one of my favorite Marilyn quotations:

“I’m selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.”