Tuesday, January 12, 2010

The Writers' Retreat in the Outer Banks, NC

I don't know quite how to talk about my experience at the Writers' Retreat. It was rather life, or at least book changing. We got right to it, after a brief lunch on Thursday afternoon last week and settling in. We are six women children's authors all in a writing group together that has now officially been dubbed Tidewater Writers. We wrote on average, in silence, for nine hours a day. We all felt like if we were in our usual environments we would not have accomplished the things we did or maintained the focus for so long. We did only because five other women were doing the same thing. As for what I accomplished: I nitpick edited my way through three turns of the book, most specifically to get my verb tense consistent throughout the story. I surprised myself with a few new scenes where previously I had described situations. I figured out that I need to meld two characters. This both saddens and exhilarates me. I really love one character I am going to get rid of in the process, and his appearance really defines the family dynamic in the manuscript. Here are some pictures of where we stayed in a little town called Duck.


I took the above from the screened in deck almost as soon as I arrived. The drive was easy and made easier through conversation. I probably talked J's ear off out of necessity, as I anticipated the silence to follow. I'm a talker by nature, and just knowing there would be other adults to talk to who wanted quiet was going to kill me if i didn't get it out of my system. My apologies to J, if she sees this post. The water surface was frozen, hard to see from this shot. It was about the coldest weekend the Outer Banks had ever seen. Think about it: frozen salt water body.


A handful of hours later, after we'd been working, and I had fidgeted and moved around too much, battling my own distractions, I looked out the window to a beautiful golden sunset.

I watched it more than I wrote for a while. Below's picture is blurry, there was a lot less light, and a lot more color. Because of the darkness encroaching, my shutter stayed open too long and I have a shaky hand, so sorry about the blur. Amazing color, not amazing camera, you can see the ice patch better here in the lower quarter of the photo, blurry as it is.


Each night we took turns making dinner. I was shamed by my cohorts. I like to think I am a good cook, but mine was way homier than the presentations by the other women. Even if my spaghetti sauce was homemade. After a couple of hours of work on Friday morning, I wasn't getting very far going crosseyed trying to edit and was fidgeting. I kept thinking about Toots and that I should be home. I saw J getting restless, too, so I approached her as quietly as possibly to see if she wanted to walk down to the water to clear our heads. So we bundled up and hopped the boardwalk over the dune to the peers and Currituck Sound. At least I think it was Currituck. I've looked on a couple of maps and a few sounds and a bay all seem to converge right about where we were staying, on the western shoreline. Again, all these white caps? Not moving, not gently rolling into the shore. Frozen. Solid. The wind was quite brutal.



We wanted to walk out the long peer, but found it blocked by this:


Even though we were renters. So here's a view from below the peer at about ten in the morning.





We didn't stay out for long, the wind was really taking our breath away. I heard some form of wildlife rustling on the dune in the grasses and brush, but didn't catch sight of it. Below is the view of our house from the boardwalk. It was huge. It had a pool, closed, and a hot tub. The hot tub became a vital part of our retreat and writing process. We gabbed about writing bumps and curves, drank wine, and soaked, while the water steamed up into the cold cold night around our heads, and up to where the stars shone brightly.



Saturday, J and I decided, as cold as it was, there was no sense in our coming all the way to the ocean, mere yards away across the main road, and not see it. If you've been reading my blog at least since this summer, you know by now my particular affinity for the ocean and beach. We drove down, parked and walked over the dune around four in the afternoon.


If we thought the wind was cold the day before, it absolutely bore through us on the way up the dune. Below is the view from the crest of the dune as the wind began to tear through my left ear.


We walked southward down the shore with the wind at our backs, but still seriously braced against the cold. My Red Sox cap was the wrong hat for the job. I found tons of cool shells and even pieces of bone of small animals, washed ashore. The shells were bigger than any you can find in the summertime at Virginia Beach or Buckroe, my current usual haunts. I've been collecting beach detris since I was a little girl growing up on Long Island Sound, and all the beaches my parents trotted us to all up and down the East Coast growing up, and any beach I've been on since. I picked up a nice couple of pieces of driftwood on Saturday, along with a pocketful of shells, two whole crab carcasses (two types) and the jawbone of something, I still don't know what, but it still has teeth!
I soon realized we really needed to turn around if we weren't going to freeze to death on the way back to the boardwalk by the car. J agreed and I'll tell you, my mother's old expression 'cold as a witch's titty' does not even come close to the wind that whipped our faces. The seagulls below stood shivering away from the water's edge until I pulled out my camera and approached them.
They gave me some serious WTF expressions as they headed toward the water to get away from me.




By the time we jumped back into J's car, I knew my ears were in serious trouble. I looked in the visor mirror and they were stark white. That is not a good sign. They continued to tingle and hurt two days later, after I'd been warm inside even back home for twenty-four hours.
By the look of these pictures, it seems I spent a lot of time gazing at sky and sea, but really that was a brief respite. The main thing I did all weekend was write. Well, even then, mostly edit, but it was much needed and not something I've been able to stick it out and do with all the home interruptions and easy distractions. I feel refreshed and exhausted. refreshed from all the sleep and hot tub that I don't get at home, ever. Mentally exhausted because I finetooth combed my way through my whole book, and wrote additional scenes. I can't wait for next year's retreat!
I am posting this a few days later than I wanted because I came home to a sick cat, and paying attention to family needs. We're still waiting on test results to find out what is going on with Babette, and I am absolutely drowning under laundry duty, among the usual mayhem.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Babette, the old furry girl

I promise I will blog about my wonderful writers' retreat soon.

I arrived home to my cat, who has been losing weight though eating, looking pretty darned pathetic. So I have spent the morning with her at the vet.

They've run bloodwork, and will be doing some more tests to try to find out what is going on with her.

I'm worried. I love her like she's one of my kids. In fact, I've had her since Mr. Cynic was a toddler. They grew up together. Of course, she grew up a lot faster. I looked at the aging chart in the vet's office while we were waiting to be seen. She's approximately 74 in kitty years. She's beautiful, she's regal, she is very displeased about her visit to the vet today, but she is being very good for them.

Though when it comes to the Evil Eye, she has cursed us all to at least seven generations.

However, there's a wonderful tiny little pill that they sent home with me to give to Lucy, too.

"You should see the fleas just dropping off of her within 30minutes. It just kills them dead. Within four hours, no more fleas, guaranteed. It's disgusting, by the way."

I haven't found a trail of fleas carcasses as of yet, but I did dose the dog as soon as I arrived home.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Retreat

Aloha!

No, the retreat is not in Hawaii, but it sure feels that way to me!

I'll post news of it upon my return.

Yay~

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Another year older

No quips, nothing very profound. I am 44 years old today. but really it's just another day, right?

This birthday is less profound than all the preceding. I'm not particularly looking forward to it or bothered by it's implications of that much closer to the mortal coil. It really seems just another day in the life du Cath.

Of course, my husband is having his little procedure today, too. Not that that has much to do with it.

Generally I do really enjoy my birthdays. This one just feels like it's floating by in the current. Usually I get all worked up, turn into Ms. Happy and Ms. Philosophical and nostalgic for weeks ahead of time. This year, eh.

I'll see how it goes. Maybe that'll change. Most likely it will.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

It Happened Again

I had a great, even meaningful, possibly life-changing idea to blog last night.

And then I woke up.

Monday, January 4, 2010

Random - or Retreat

1. It is freaking bloody cold for where I live. As much as I miss New England for so many things that come along with fall and winter, cold, and wind are not among them.

2. I kvetch. I kvetch to find solutions, not just to whine about what I do not have that I want. I kvetched to a friend about wanting desperately to go on this writers' retreat coming up. He asked me how much it would cost as I was complaining about budgetary issues. He exclaimed, "Cath, I spend more than that sitting at an oyster bar!" Two days later, a check arrived in the mail. Bless you, friend.

3. I'm going on a Writers' Retreat later this week.

4. Wednesday is my birthday. No biggie. Honey has a routine type procedure scheduled the same day. A bit of a biggie. But, I'm leaving for my Writers' Retreat the next day!

5. Did I mention I am leaving my mayhem behind and may actually get some gol-dang sleep, even if it's not in my own bed? More specifically because it won't be my own bed, with the middle of the night waking toddler wedged between Honey and me...

6. Fellow creative types, do you ever have those moments when it is completely inconvenient to have a stroke of inspiration and then you sit down an hour later to BE creative and it disappears? That's me right now. I was feeling very poetic and writerly as I got into the shower this morning. Then I sat down in front of the computer and: nothing. It must be the cold.

7. I really am concerned about my honey's procedure, though everyone is telling me it's no big deal, he'll be fine. But I'm taking it as it comes, hoping for the best, and going on my retreat because even though it's inconvenient to everything else in my life, it's the most important thing to my wellbeing right now. His mother is here, he'll be okay and so will the kids without me for a few days.

8. Toots is stuffy. Crusty nosed toddlers do not like when a tissue heads anywhere near their faces.

9. Captain Comic is back to school. Mr. Cynic is back to school. I think, in each's own way, they are happy about it. Mr. Cynic gets to see his friends and Captain Comic gets back into a regular routine.

10. I need to go find a sweater and pour another cup of hot tea. Layers, people, think layers.

11. Writers' Retreat!!!!!

Friday, January 1, 2010

Happy New Decade

It's not terribly early in the morning. Toots is sleeping in and so are Honey and Grandma. The boys are with their father and but for my usually waking and Lucy who wanted out of her crate for her morning business, the house is quiet.

The route road that runs behind my house is quiet.

I'm enjoying my coffee in relative peace.

No one has to be anywhere under duress. No shoes to find before a bus.

Ah, that didn't last long. I hear Toots stirring.

Well, I hope your New Year and New Decade bring your hopes, desires and the goals of your work. And remember, the goals aren't necessarily as direct as they may seem, like a paycheck. They involve your dreams.

Here, Mother Nature is blessing us with a wee bit more rain, and I will relax with my coffee a moment longer before I make the Hoppin' John for prosperity in 2010.