You go to a writer's retreat to write, right? Well, sure,
that's part of it. I've written some stuff I'm fond of at retreats. But I can
write at home too, and I’m really not going to finish that novel in a weekend.
No, for me, writer's retreats are really about the things I can't do at home,
even about the person I can't be at home.
See, writers are nuts. We work for a pittance that
Oliver Twist would turn his nose up at. We spend hours alone between four walls
imagining worlds full of light and color and adventure, worlds peopled by the
good and the beautiful, the pious and the damned. And yet there is just such a
world outside the room in which we sit scribbling. We're mad, mad I tell you!
The world knows we’re nuts. They treat us as they
treat all crazy people, with gentle condescension. "Would I have read anything
of yours?" they ask, knowing full well that they haven't read anything
other than the back of a cereal box in ten years. "Oh, I doubt it,"
you say modestly. And there ends the conversation. The normal person can now
escape safely without troubling their conscience. They asked a polite question
about writing; their social obligation has been met.
The Briars Resort, full of nooks and crannies, ideal for curling up with your laptop and writing |
Of course, there is one other question we get from
time to time. "Where do your get your ideas from?" If you hear this
one, back away slowly. People who ask this are crazier than you are.
But you know the one place that no one will ever
ask you these inane questions? A writer's retreat. Because we all get it. Of
course we haven't read each other's books yet, because we haven't cracked the
best seller list yet. And we have no clue where our ideas come from: life, the
universe, everything?
That is why we go to writer's retreats, for there,
like Hamlet in England: "Twill, a not be seen in him there; there the
men are as mad as he."
A writer's retreat is a place where everyone is just the same amount of crazy as you are, which is almost like being in a place where everyone is sane.
You can sit staring out the window with a notebook
idle in your hand and a well-bitten pencil between your teeth and no one will
assume you are bored and in want of conversation. No, they will tiptoe by you
in silence because they instantly recognize that you are WRITING!
A writer's retreat is a place where you can
sit the the bar, supping wine and discussing the relative merits of Hamlet,
Hornblower, and Harry Potter and no earnest grad student will derail the
conversation with a Marxist critique or semiotic blither blather.
What makes a great writer's retreat? It comes down
to two things: the facilities and the company. The best place to find both?
Probably some literary salon in Paris, London, or New York in the 1930s. But in
Ontario in the 21 century, it is Brian Henry's annual retreat at the Briars in
November.
(With all due respect to Brian's summer retreat in
Algonquin Park, if I want endless grey-green forests and sunrises on still,
misty, silent lakes disturbed only by the cry of a loon, I can write them
myself, but I can't write a decent glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. The
Briars has a well stocked bar with comfortable seating. Algonquin park has
trees.)
The Briars also has history, character, endless
nooks and crannies where you can install yourself to write or to chat, as the
mood takes you. There are even trees and grass and a lake outside, if you are
into that sort of thing. It has good food and good wine.
Most importantly of all, it has the company of
aspiring writers: people who are exactly the same amount of crazy as you are.
You can talk about the craft and about books and about your ambition for that
book contract that will leave you in penury for many years to come.
You can read your work aloud if you wish. No one
will laugh (except at the jokes). No one will back away nervously. Here they
are all as mad as we. Get thee therefore to a retreat. Specifically, get
thee to the Brian's retreat at The Briars in November. See you there.
***
For information about upcoming writers’ retreats,
at both the Briars on Lake Simcoe and Arowhon Pines in Algonquin Park, see here
(and scroll down). For a report on Arowhon Pines resort where the annual
June retreat is held, by someone who does like trees, see here.
Mark Baker is
a writer living in Kitchener. His stories have appeared in The Rockford
Review, Storyteller, Solander, Our Family, New England's
Coastal Journal, Fantasy Book, and The Atlantic
Advocate. He is the author of several non-fiction books and is working on a
novel (or two).
See Brian Henry’s schedule here, including
Saturday writing workshops, weekly writing classes, and weekend
retreats in Algonquin Park, Alliston, Bolton, Barrie, Brampton,
Burlington, Caledon, Collingwood, Georgetown, Georgina, Guelph, Hamilton,
Jackson’s Point, Kitchener-Waterloo, London, Midland, Mississauga, New
Tecumseth, Oakville, Ottawa, Peterborough, St. Catharines, Sudbury, Toronto,
Windsor, Woodstock, Halton, Muskoka, Peel, Simcoe, York Region, the GTA,
Ontario and beyond.
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