Wicked Writing Women

This photo of me and Dana cracks me up. I think we look sort of like we are considering you carefully, and may at any moment call you out for your naughty behavior. Which is appropriate, because we did some of that while we were at the Tomales Bay Workshops, the night we crashed the grad students party. Okay, I did more of it in class. Hopefully I will be forgiven for this sin.

It's a shame that our other roommate, Wendy, is not in this photo. After the night we got lost with Dorianne and laughed our way through 6 hours of wrong turns, bad directions, and cell phone calls to men who might be able to direct us to the right road, Dana and I started referring to Wendy as "Poor Wendy". We hadn't met her yet, we just thought she was probably in for it, being our roommate and all. It wasn't long after we met Wendy that we realized she could hold her own with us, and the three of us ended up looking at each other sheepishly the morning that the conference coordinator made the announcement "And please try to keep the 2AM conversations at a low volume, or better yet, take a walk so that the other people staying in your dorms aren't kept awake". Yeah, we were the ones having impassioned conversations about writing at 2AM. I'm sure we weren't the only ones.

Having Dana and Wendy there was a little like having your sister with you in New York. Like New York, writing workshops are wonderful places full of great experiences to have, and really interesting people to meet. Like New York, they are also scary as hell. There's an energy to a writing workshop - there are ups and downs in the collective mood, in self-esteem, sometimes even in your desire to be there. This workshop was an extremely positive, low-ego experience, but we all still have our doubts about putting our writing out there.

Just like New York, the workshops I've done have always been worth it in the end, and are the kind of places I find myself wanting to return to. As Kristin pointed out, I definitely drank the KoolAid.

Having your sister in New York, was knowing that someone always had your back, even if she didn't always agree with you, and knowing that someone would be patient with the vicissitudes in your moods. I know I shouldn't compare someone I had previously spent only 6 hours with to you, Ali, but sometimes extreme situations forge a bond that doesn't require a lot of time to develop, one that is as forgiving and full of affection as you could ever hope from a friendship 6 hours old.

So, not only did I have that with Dana, and then get to enjoy Wendy's company and writing as well, I had some of the writing group women there, and those women kick ass. I've written about them before, and no doubt will again. At some point I realized that the biggest reason I was sorry I wasn't in Ron Carlson's workshop was that it meant I didn't get to read what they had submitted. I've been assured that I will see those stories at some point and I hope that's true. And don't get me wrong, I aspire to do a Ron Carlson workshop, but I have that thing about not understanding how people write short stories that makes it seem a little inappropriate for me.

So. Thanks for making me feel like you had my back, Dana and Wendy. It almost made me feel like I could have read without passing out. But don't quote me on that.