In the company of writers
August 24th 2008 05:30
Apart from coveting her scalding wit and turn of phrase, I am envious of Dorothy Parker for the years of lunchtimes she spent at New York’s Algonquin Hotel on 44th street with Robert Benchley and Robert E Sherwood, forming the core of what would famously become known as The Round Table. What began as a social event amongst three like-minded writers who met on a daily basis for lunch (expanding to include a host of other sterling literary minds that could cut diamonds including Harold Ross – founder of the New Yorker, Harpo Marx, Franklin Pierce Adams, George S Kaufman, Edna Ferber, Noel Coward to name a few) soon became an institution, epitomizing the emerging creativity and buoyancy of post World War 1 American culture.
The closest experience I have had to this enlivening companionship of minds was a period in which I spent eight weeks at the Hedgebrook Women’s Writers Colony on Whidbey Island off the coast of Seattle in 1996 in which I wrote the first draft of my first novel The Dreamcloth. Days would be spent reading and writing in the seclusion of my cottage, the only interruption to the train of my thoughts, the soft knock of the gardener’s hand to bring me a fresh basket of lunch wrapped in Little Red Riding Hood napkins. But come twilight, I would make my way down to the farmhouse where I would meet with the five other writers. And over dinner, we would talk and laugh and spin ideas and toss poetry back and forth. Later we’d make our way into the lounge and read from our work, offering thoughts and suggestions and endless praise for a day’s work under the pen.
I suppose it is a vanity of sorts. This desire I have to spend time with other writers. Is it an acceptable narcissism? Do doctors long to spend long lunches with other surgeons and gastro-intestinal specialists so they can talk about the latest surgical procedures and the fabulous re-attachment of limbs and tendons they’ve recently undertaken? Do lawyers crave the company of other solicitors so they can pontificate on the most recent judicial rulings and speak in half-Latin terms lay people can only guess the meaning of?
Yesterday I had the good fortune to be included in an invitation to spend an afternoon on a boat in the company of several writers and organizers of the recently passed Sydney Jewish Writers Festival.
The writer, Alan Gold (also columnist for The Australian and dear friend of mine with a heart the size of a humpback whale) and his gorgeous wife Eva, had co-ordinated this get-together and with his humour and her insight, and the combined talents, stories and quips of the wonderful guests including the Melbournian writer Yvonne Fein, I was in some kind of bantering heaven. Our gracious and generous hosts welcomed us with profuse hospitality and a buffet of delicious food and wine. I savoured every moment of that day.
When I attend formal occasions, I iron my pants and straighten my hair. I put on blusher and jewelry that makes me sparkle in unexpected places. I am able to pull off a certain level of physical respectability I certainly do not keep up in my everyday life. Similarly, in the company of writers, my own thoughts and ideas step up to the mark. I don’t allow myself intellectually lazy remarks or to speak before considering ‘do I really know what I’m saying here?’ I leave other writers feeling like my own brain has achieved its own PB.
The best part of being a writer? The solitude. The worst part? The solitude. Days like yesterday reminded me of what a privilege it is to be a writer, and to be in the company of others consumed by the urgency of life made lucid through language.
www.joannefedler.com
Dorothy Parker
The closest experience I have had to this enlivening companionship of minds was a period in which I spent eight weeks at the Hedgebrook Women’s Writers Colony on Whidbey Island off the coast of Seattle in 1996 in which I wrote the first draft of my first novel The Dreamcloth. Days would be spent reading and writing in the seclusion of my cottage, the only interruption to the train of my thoughts, the soft knock of the gardener’s hand to bring me a fresh basket of lunch wrapped in Little Red Riding Hood napkins. But come twilight, I would make my way down to the farmhouse where I would meet with the five other writers. And over dinner, we would talk and laugh and spin ideas and toss poetry back and forth. Later we’d make our way into the lounge and read from our work, offering thoughts and suggestions and endless praise for a day’s work under the pen.
a cottage at Hedgebrook Women's Writers Colony
I suppose it is a vanity of sorts. This desire I have to spend time with other writers. Is it an acceptable narcissism? Do doctors long to spend long lunches with other surgeons and gastro-intestinal specialists so they can talk about the latest surgical procedures and the fabulous re-attachment of limbs and tendons they’ve recently undertaken? Do lawyers crave the company of other solicitors so they can pontificate on the most recent judicial rulings and speak in half-Latin terms lay people can only guess the meaning of?
Yesterday I had the good fortune to be included in an invitation to spend an afternoon on a boat in the company of several writers and organizers of the recently passed Sydney Jewish Writers Festival.
The writer, Alan Gold (also columnist for The Australian and dear friend of mine with a heart the size of a humpback whale) and his gorgeous wife Eva, had co-ordinated this get-together and with his humour and her insight, and the combined talents, stories and quips of the wonderful guests including the Melbournian writer Yvonne Fein, I was in some kind of bantering heaven. Our gracious and generous hosts welcomed us with profuse hospitality and a buffet of delicious food and wine. I savoured every moment of that day.
with the wonderful Alan Gold
When I attend formal occasions, I iron my pants and straighten my hair. I put on blusher and jewelry that makes me sparkle in unexpected places. I am able to pull off a certain level of physical respectability I certainly do not keep up in my everyday life. Similarly, in the company of writers, my own thoughts and ideas step up to the mark. I don’t allow myself intellectually lazy remarks or to speak before considering ‘do I really know what I’m saying here?’ I leave other writers feeling like my own brain has achieved its own PB.
The best part of being a writer? The solitude. The worst part? The solitude. Days like yesterday reminded me of what a privilege it is to be a writer, and to be in the company of others consumed by the urgency of life made lucid through language.
www.joannefedler.com
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Comment by Jayne Kearney
Writers In Writing (and other writing)
What an envy-inducing post. Firstly, your description of your time at Hedgebrook Women's Writers Colony sounds heavenly - especially the hand delivered Litte Red Riding Hood lunch! (after the writing and the community spirit of course)
And your cruise with these fabulous writers (about whom my interest is piqued) would have been the highlight of my week had it been on my calendar - although I'm sure I would have been terrified to air my slender wit and intellect in front of such heavyweights. I love how you described your thoughts as putting on their best party clothes for the outing.
Thanks again for the glimpse into an 'honest to gosh' writing life. Inspirational as always.
Jayne
Comment by Chris Champion
moneywhither
Vyoos
Zoomies
Bloggercises
NewlyOld
The Blog of Lists
Only the dull ones Joanne. The interesting ones would rather have a long lunch with Dorothy Parker, Robert Benchley et al
Comment by James Rickard
unlucky_ fishermen.com
Angling Fish
Comment by JP Shaw
Sassy Ink Author
Parent Writer
You are so talented and I love you for it my teacher of words!
Comment by Joanne Fedler
Secret Writers Business
Too true, Chris.
James, writers groups are so much fun if you get the right balance of people, don't you think?
JP, what a beautiful message. I hope, that you too will find your way to a writers colony someday. Every (woman especially) writer needs and deserves this island of space in which to focus on her creativity. You keep at it, and you will make it happen
Jo