Hello and welcome to a rainy October Saturday here at the Wannaskan Almanac. Today is October 9th.
Woo-wee, what a week! A big shout-out and thank you to the Wannaskan Almanac Kid Writer-in-Residence who held down the blogging fort during my first-ever Red Shoes Writing Retreat in Wannaska country on Lake of the Woods during the last week of September. I may have sweetened the deal by doubling his wage - $1/paragraph to $2/paragraph - and he may have negotiated a $2.50 rate, which I may have agreed to. (I believe it's important to pay writers.)
I seldom mention my Red Shoes work on the blog mainly because there's always plenty of family action to write about. One (1) temporary tooth that fell out followed by an emergency dental visit just in time for Homecoming? Check. Tending a lacerated eyebrow? Check. FAFSA filled out? Check. Impromptu birthday party for the neighbor girl complete with pumpkin painting? Double check. All in the last week! But, today, I would like to take a moment to celebrate and express my gratitude to all of the community partners and individuals who helped me execute a fabulous and very successful writing retreat. And during a pandemic, at that. Even mother nature cooperated, blessing us all in Wannaska country with blue skies, summer temps, and brightly colored leaves of yellow, orange, and red. Even the browns had a certain cheery shimmer in the sunlight.
Writers can be a lonely lot. I have lived in Wannaskaland for 15 years so I know firsthand the challenge of writers organizing themselves. We are like cats. We like affection, but not too much, preferring to be by ourselves (Yes! Sometimes even me!). We'll wander in for an occasional snack and scratch behind the ears, but we live largely in the space between our ears. In the world of our imaginations, we're hitchhiking across the United States (Chairman Joe), ghost flying (Jack Pine Savage), piecing family histories together from the few bits of evidence that remain of the long lost but not forgotten (Wannaska Writer), spinning thoughtful tall tales (Mr. Hot Coco), or stretching our vocabularies while we peruse the daily lunch menu (Joe - Wednesday's Child). I keep coming back to the theme of embracing the crazy of family life.
The writing retreat was an attempt to herd the cats, if only for a short time. And the cats came. And they purred and basked in the porch sunlight at Doc's Harbor Inn or on the roof terrace at the Hampton Inn.
Writers came from as far as Appleton, Wisconsin, and as near as Salol, to gather for writing exercises and outdoor adventures. We worked on glimmers and remixes and rolled smart words like "anaphora", "epistrophe" and "pantoum" around our mouths like those delicious chocolate-covered coffee beans they sell at Lake of the Woods Coffee Co.
We awoke from an 18-month catnap, yawned, stretched, and discovered a whole world out there that had gone on spinning while we lie curled in fuzzy balls in our homes, hunkered over our laptops.
We tromped through the woods and delighted in hearing stories and learning the history of this area. I marveled how each guest speaker was a brilliant storyteller. We have storytellers in our midst, people! They are among us! And if you don't believe me, let me tell you about our smashing community storytelling event. As part of the retreat experience, I thought it would be fun for local and guest storytellers to come together and share stories based on the theme "There's No Place Like Home."
It was a gamble. I mean, isn't my side of Wannaska country all "windows, walleyes, and hockey?" Yes! AND these things make great stories. Storytelling was completely voluntary and still, we had 16 people sign up to tell stories. Sixteen! That's a number worthy of admiration in a big city let alone in a small town!
Yes, the storytellers may have been motivated by the chance to win a free Lake of the Woods Brewing Company beverage - that is, if they kept their stories under 5 minutes, and yes, we had a timer - but, I like to think that people chose to tell stories simply because stories are built into our human nature.
We were designed to love stories.
There's a great book I read over the summer called Wired for Story about why stories are older than dirt. It turns out that humans have been cherishing stories since the beginning of time for a surprisingly very practical reason and that is stories are the most efficient and effective way of relaying information that pertains to our survival.
So we listen. And when the storyteller gets to a really good part in the story - like when there's disgusting white stuff sticking out of a bloody elbow (as one storyteller shared) - our bodies instinctively lean forward to find out what the white stuff was, how it was taken care of, and most importantly, is there a happily ever after here or just a really important lesson on what not to do should audience members ever find themselves in a situation that involves a bloody elbow with a white substance protruding from it.
True to my generally happy cat nature, I thrilled in the joy of community. While video chat and online courses absolutely did the job of connecting me to other writers - many of whom I otherwise would have never met - there is something about sharing real-time, real-world physical space with other writers. Ideas spark and an electric current of creativity flows. The feeling wasn't new, but familiar, and I couldn't help but think, "Wow. I've missed this."
I was reminded that stories bear witness to life. Stories share lessons. Stories share laughter. And tears. Stories open our hearts and minds. Stories connect us. (And give us survival tips.)
My greatest takeaway from a week with writers is this: If stories can do all these powerful, wonderful things, perhaps stories are also the medicine that can heal us.
So, (click) here. Have some stories.
On This Day
Historic Highlights (credits)
Happy Birthday to You!š¶
Remembering You
I'm glad to see someone is being paid for their writing.
ReplyDeleteBut we don't do it for the money, do we?
It was a fine night out.
Even the train told a story.
Gosh! I didn't know I had lived here eight! years longer than you & fam have. WooHoo, as you would say. What I admire about your sojourn in Warroad is how you create your own novel experiences and always find the bright aspects of our our lives in the Northwest.
ReplyDeleteI agree with the Chairman about the open mic night being most enjoyable. Even the trains provided a wistful atmosphere. Those who told their stories in various forms (prose, ~essay, and poetry were al quite the experience for your audience. Congrats on the retreat's success. You created a memorable experience with (it seems) a nice balance between fun and well, fun.