From my newsletter: Writing Novels For Young People Retreat 2018

If opportunity doesn’t knock, build a door.
-Milton Berle

Dear Writers,

This weekend was the Writing Novels for Young People Retreat at VCFA. Cindy Faughnan and I have been planning and running this event for many years. This is the place and event where I practiced. I learned. I made friends. I became a teacher. I learned about leadership and planning.  

This weekend, our guest faculty talked about so many things that are important to me: From advocacy (as in: Why me? And Why Not Me?) to  structure and story–from both the editor’s eye and the writer’s. And they talked about the possibilities of quirky characters, play and discovery–and how we woo story. In workshops, we took that magic and applied it with empathy and courage. We talked about the glimmers in our work–and the possibilities. And like every retreat, we offered each other support and most important, friendship. We challenged each other. We worked like detectives (or journalists), asking: who, what, when, where, and why? We thought about who we were in these stories and what drove us to keep at them–especially in this angry world.

I am so grateful to this year’s faculty (in alphabetical order): Will Alexander, Rebecca Aronson, Karen Boss, Donna Gephart, Jo Knowles, Maggie Lehrman, Amanda Maciel and Chris Tebbetts. Today, I also want to say thank you to every writer who came to this retreat–from the very first one in 2005. I am grateful for your stories. I am grateful for your trust. You helped us create this wonderful community.

If you know me in real life, you know that I write in lots of genres. That I love change. And play. And new challenges.

So as my title suggests, I think this story always had an ending. And I think that end has come–for me.

Once upon a time, this opportunity was my first chance–to be a teacher. To see what I could make. Every year, we raised the stakes. We acted and reacted. We pushed ourselves to improve. 

But now I see new opportunities. Just like writing a story–I need to raise the stakes. Change the momentum. Surprise my readers.

Writers, change is always scary.
But we all have to. 

So today, I am using this space to let everyone know that I am saying goodbye to my baby–my first venture–and exploring new opportunities for retreats.

I am really excited about what is out there.

I take with me memories and experience that have made me a better teacher and writer. But it’s time to do something new. 

During the weekend, Donna Gephart asked us to write an obituary for a character. To discover a legacy. Here is what I hope people will say about the retreat:

The community that began as the Writing Novels for Young People Retreat was a great stepping stone for many writers, books, and friends. The foundation was story and craft and learning. But the magic that happened there every year came from trust. And courage. And empathy. This retreat made writers joyful. Over the years, writers thought about every topic possible, from characters to plot, to setting, to secondary characters, to surprises, to storyboarding and play.  It was the place where life long friendships were formed. It was the place where stories came to life.

Are you ready to stretch?

I loved this exercise and I invite you to try it. Write an obituary for one of your characters. In her or his own voice. Make it funny. Or sad. It’s up to you. Look at your character’s WHOLE LIFE, their accomplishments, their yearning, the things they are proud of and the quirks that should never be forgotten.

When the chefs could not make breakfast Sunday morning, retreaters did not get mad. Instead, they ran down the hill to buy bagels and get more coffee for the whole group. It was a funny moment. (And surprise–the bagels were GREAT. In Vermont!) We had already faced a lot of problems (just like the best protagonists), but now we knew each other. We were feeling joyous. We had momentum! As we ate, we all realized that great ideas and events and stories happen when we act spontaneously–when we respond to the world around us–when we roll up our sleeves and get to work–when we think about others and forget the ego. 

Today, Writers, I am filled with gratitude. I thank every single writer and editor who attended this event. You have made me a better writer. You gave me so much to think about.

Have a great writing week!

sarah