Fishtrap 2

August 6, 2010

Where to begin? I seem to keep taking too long to post new blog entries. Sorry. This has got to be one of the slowest summers — as far as (paid) work for me — I’ve ever had but still I find myself busy, frazzled, distracted.

So, first, Fishtrap. Got back from my 8-day writing retreat/gathering at Fishtrap in Northeast Oregon (Wallowa Lake, to be exact). Beautiful beautiful country — big blue Wallowa Lake, mountains with snow at the tips (still!), deer outside my window, writing on my laptop next to the river that rushed past my bedroom and back porch (talk about white-noise).

I had the most amazing writing workshop — not really a workshop, thankfully, but more a seminar — with Karen Fisher (I’m not worthy; I bow down to her), author of A Sudden Country. She was just incredible. Inspirational. There were no daily prompts. No sharing of work (except one-on-one with her). No BS. She talked about her process, about structure of the novel, notably “historical fiction.”  We talked about our own books, our own projects, asked how to get over our own specific hurdles. She talked about structure of scenes, momentum, pace. And most important (especially to me — or at least I really took it to heart) she emphasized COMPRESSION. Sometimes in this book i’m writing, because it’s historical fiction I want to put every bit of detail, fact, statistic, trivia, that I know into it. She told us, “Just because you love all those statistics and facts and lists doesn’t necessarily mean your reader will.” COMPRESSION. Pick what is really essential to the story, the characters. If what you know doesn’t fit into your story, it doesn’t belong. Don’t force it into your story. Get over the impulse to (over)inform! (That’s Karen in the red sweater in the middle.)

Can more be achieved in fewer pages?

Test every word or moment in your writing for the truth.

She talked about revision: Revision comes from the 1. head, 2. gut, 3. heart

The three truths to adhere to about Revision:

1. clarity

2. authenticity

3. the heart/credibility

Revision is increasing engagement with what you are doing. Increasing the reader’s engagement in your work.

She also suggests to create folders for each character — hard copy folders or electronic.

A week with Karen Fisher was worth the entire trip.

Other highlights included meeting Cosy Sheridan — folk-singer-story-teller-funny-bone-tickler-extraordinaire. She and I shared a rental car from the Boise airport through the 4.5 hour drive to Fishtrap. I don’t think we stopped talking once. She was funny, irreverent, political, compassionate, and we got along like wildfire. I just love her. And this was before I had even heard her sing (well, live anyway — I had heard her online). She is fricken awesome! A crystal voice and her songs are real stories. Her banter with an audience is nothing short of dazzling. She rocked the Fishtrap house!

Check out the video below of her singing “Do You Love the Life You Made?” last year.

And, meeting Jack Loeffler (with the beard) was a kick — he’s a much lauded aural historian who has spent countless hours taping Native Americans telling their stories and published many of them in a terrific book (that I bought) that comes with a great DVD called Healing the West.

Also, the four other fellows, Christine Colasurdo, (and, from left to right) Dave Jarecki, Chris Robertson, and Bill Wright — were lovely– super writers and fast good friends. Had many fun nights, slumber-party-style (a.k.a. long talks, red wine, chocolate, lots of laughs, impromptu poetry readings) with Dave and Chris and Bill, who were my cabin-mates. And what a cabin–huge!

Now… for the downside. Don’t get me wrong, I’m very grateful to Fishtrap for bringing me out there. They paid for just about everything, including my travel. There were many nice people there. It was wonderful having the time away to think, write, learn. But truthfully, I felt there were kinks that needed to be worked out in their organization. First of all, there is a huge age gap, and very little effort is made to bridge that gap. The fellows were all mid thirties to mid-late forties, but the participants, for the most part, were 60s, 70s. No problem with that, but there seemed to be a big separation, a segregation, between ages. Where were the 20, 30, 40-somethings? Why haven’t they reached out to them? (There were a couple of women in their 20s who spent a week camping and then they came down the last few days.) And again, don’t get me wrong, all my life I’ve gotten along with people much older than me. When I was a kid I used to hang out in the living room with the grownups and my grandparents and their friends, emptying ashtrays, talking about movies and books, while the other kids were in the playroom. But at Fishtrap, there was a weird lack of young people. (However, there were very young kids there– a sort of writing camp for kids all week).

In addition, there were odd rules: no alcohol at dinner — or anywhere near the food (granted, maybe that was out of their control, the cabins and yurts–yes there were yurts!– were on a Methodist campground). We could not use ‘explicit language’ or ‘sex’ in our reading — and all of the fellows gave a reading — or if we did, we needed to give a disclaimer to the audience so they could leave, or take the kids out of the room. The fellows could only read for ten minutes and we were chastised, even harassed, for going slightly over. Seriously. I actually kept mine to about 8 minutes, but some of the other fellows, bless them, went over. Maybe 15 minutes total. They were pulled aside the next morning. And then at the reading the next night, we were all chastised in public. (“We are using a timer tonight because last night the readers couldn’t stick to the plan…” or something like that. And YES! they used a timer and even flashed a red light in people’s faces when they hit the time limit.) However, a couple days later, when a few of the instructors read — who were also told they had a specific time limit–most of them went way over — some even 35 minutes–without a word being said to them. It was all very strange and oppressive.

Finally, when I was introduced for my reading they made no mention of the book I edited with my husband, From Boys to Men: Gay Men Write About Growing Up – which is the first thing on my bio — a best-selling and award-nominated anthology of, omigosh, GAY nonfiction. Only two of the fellows, myself and Christine, had books out, and they mentioned Christine’s (Return to Spirit Lake — an excellent memoir of Mt. St. Helens). Not a mention of my book. Not a mention of me being gay. In fact, though at the opening ceremony and subsequent events, there were talks about the Environment, Native American Issues, Political Activism, there was no acknowledgment of GLBT anywhere, despite the fact that several of the women participants were clearly out lesbians AND one of the employees is an out lesbian. There’s no outreach to GLBT writers or any plans for GLBT workshops, etc. Kind of a shame, considering they could really pull in some great folks from Portland: Tom Spanbauer, Mark Acito, Chuck Palahniuk, Judith Barrington, Sage Ricci. I don’t know if it’s that they were worried that anything too ‘adult’ would offend board members, or, as one person there on staff put it– Fishtrap is made up of the old ‘boys club,’ but they are missing out on a vital part of the writing population– and, we have money (i.e. donors… though of course not me and Ted, we’re poor!). But anyway, it seemed a little ridiculous when, in the opening address, with all of the talk about spirituality, nature, environmentalism, activism, Native American life, there was nothing about this being GAY PRIDE MONTH throughout the U.S.  and no welcome to our GLBT brothers and sisters.

Am I just being sensitive? Maybe. But the fellows and I talked about it in my cabin and when, at the end of the week, they gave everyone evaluations to fill out I said as much as I could in the tiny space they allowed for comments. I’ve decided, though, that I’m going to send a letter to the new Executive Director, who starts in September.

Because really, the place, the scenery, are all incredible and so conducive to writing, sharing, thinking, reading, inspiration, discussion, dialogue, friendship, learning. This place should be huge. Fishtrap, though it’s been around for, I think, over 20 years, seems to still be figuring itself out– and I’d like to see them really do it, really become something great, something inclusive and welcoming to everyone.