Writers are a sad and pathetic species. We crave isolation then brood about our lack of social lives. We live in our heads along with our characters and storylines, but flit about in the world to avoid actually writing our tales. Eventually all this neurotic behavior catches up to us, and we are scrambling to meet deadlines or suffering from blocks or kicking ourselves for not getting that story finished.
Recently a handful of Southern Literary Coalition members decided that all our writing-related (and life-related) problems could be solved by a retreat in the heart of Dixie. And so Julie Herman found us this absolutely charming airb&b residence in Jackson, Mississippi...
...where we gathered for a weekend of rest, conversation, quiet time, yoga for writers (you knew I'd make that happen, right?), and actual progress!
There may have been ghosts, demons, dead bodies, or most any other disturbing possibility in the attic room. We'll never know for sure, because Carolyn Haines had to cancel at the last minute (she had an ailing animal, and Carolyn has her priorities straight) and she's the only one who would have consented to stay up there.
The remaining five (Dean/Miranda James, Julie Herman, Mary Saums, Amy Sharp, and moi) spent a grueling two days fighting through blocks of the creative kind.
Ever wondered what working writers look like? Here are a few action shots:
Writers work alone, but it takes a whole lot of good and dear friends to make that possible. I am so very lucky to have these and other friends standing behind and beside me. Thank you all!