[an error occurred while processing this directive]
Be
sure to visit the
Letter from Joyce Archives
Look for the February 2004 release of The Usual Rules in paperback!
Five months on the road, and Thirty Years Later
December
3, 2008
Dear Friends,
After
five months on the road -- a writing workshop in Guatemala, two writing
retreats in the U.S., a road trip through British Columbia, a wedding
in Cleveland, a fundraiser in Chicago, a day of mountain climbing with
my daughter and a hip hop concert featuring my older son on the lower
east side of Manhattan, and visits with friends in Maine, New Hampshire,
New York, Vashon Island, Washington and Glouchester, Mass -- I arrived
back home in California just over two weeks ago. Having lived out of a
suitcase since June, I was ready to burn the six outfits I lived in all
that time –two pairs of yoga pants, a few t-shirts, one bathing suit,
a red dress and a pair of fake leopard skin high heels. It's very good
to be home (though I have to be honest: even as I write this, I'm preparing
for a quick trip to Lake Atitlan, later this week, to make arrangements
for my writing workshops there this winter).
I'm definitely not complaining about all of this moving around, mind you. As dislocating as it occasionally felt, hauling around my bags of books and my laptop, I loved every single stop on my travels, and wouldn't have missed any of them. In the end, with drafts of two books completed at my writing retreats (one novel, and a memoir) -- and too distracted by the election to do any more good work -- I left the last retreat a few days early to spend a few days in my home state of New Hampshire working for Obama. Election day night, I celebrated my November 5th birthday at midnight, just as our new President-elect stepped out on the stage in Chicago, feeling as if, in so many ways, a corner had been turned in so many ways.
I
ended up my time on the road with five days at The
Kripalu Yoga Center in Lenox, Massachusetts, doing yoga and a juice
cleanse aiming at starting my 56th year of living off to a good start
(and getting rid of the extra pounds I'd put on, with all the great meals
they fed me at the MacDowell
Colony and Yaddo).
Some good news here: A week after getting back, I sold my new novel. Titled Labor Day, the book will be coming out with William Morrow next September (though I am told it will be in stores by the end of July, 2009). I'm enormously happy about this, naturally, and eager to share the story -- particularly with the readers of this letter, who I always think of as my most loyal. You are the ones I think of, when I write. Having felt sustained by your letters and stories in so many ways, over the years, I love having a story to give you again, and feel hopeful this one will speak to you. In the months ahead, I'll hope to tell you more about it. And for those of you who have sent me letters about the two chapters I've shared with you from the new memoir, I want to add that though I'm still in the process of revising that one, I'll have more to show you from that book soon, too.
Part of the story of the memoir has to do with the phase of life so many of you share with me, that finds us having launched our children into the world to adventures of their own, and asking the question: What do I do now? And where do we look to find meaning in our lives?
Of
course, they haven't left us entirely -- thank god, though keeping in
touch with them may take us to places we wouldn't otherwise venture. (Last
month, one of my stops was a club on the Lower East Side of Manhattan,
where my son Charlie's band, The Beatards, were performing in celebration
of their new CD release -- in a set that started around 11:30 pm, an hour
I am generally asleep. I adore my son, naturally, and my heart filled
with pride as he bounced out on the stage, wearing his paper boy hat and
wild shirt, with a Brazilian dance whistle around his neck, and his crazy
hip hop moves. But it is true, I never pictured myself dancing along to
a song with the refrain "Sex addict... got to have it... going
at it... like rabbits... " (I do recognize a certain theme --
dating back to his growing up years at home in New Hampshire -- when Charlie
goes on to sing "Why do we make the bed... just to mess it up again?"
I invite you all to share one of the Beatards' songs on You Tube, by the way. Though I want to issue a parental advisory here, and also tell you (because I'm his mother) that despite his hijinks on video, my son really does respect women (his sister, me, and our entire gender) a whole lot. As does his younger brother, who was recently seen on television, getting murdered on the show Cold Case, but who remains alive and well and training for the Los Angeles marathon at the moment. For those of you who have been reading my letters long enough to remember our wonderful dog, Opie, I will add that Willy has a Boston Terrier puppy named Tucker whom I met earlier this week, when I traveled south to Thanksgiving at his apartment there. A wonderful dog, though I am not sure I can go along with Willy's concept that this puppy should be viewed as my grandson.
As many good things
as I have to report here today -- and as fortunate as I am feeling, and
as much as I am celebrating the election of our new president -- it seems
important to acknowledge, too, the dramatic and scary changes going on
in our country at the moment, that have no doubt affected nearly everyone
reading this letter. Having experienced some pretty major financial losses
over the years, I've had an education in making a good, rich life without
a lot of money, but I won't pretend to know what it feels like to lose
your job or your home, or to be faced with devastating medical bills --
and to anyone reading this who may be going through that, I want to say,
simply, that I will try, in what I write, to keep always in mind the struggles
of those having to get by on less. I have often been such a person myself.
But if -- when I write -- you feel I need to understand better, I hope
you will write and tell me, yourself, what you are dealing with. My greatest
education, as a writer, has always come from readers, and that will 
always
be so.
This seems like an unlikely moment, perhaps, to tell you once again about my writing workshops coming up this winter, but I want to say a few things about those. We've got some terrific people joining us -- returning students, and first timers, both total novice writers and some very experienced ones. But no doubt in large part because of what's going on in the economy, spaces remain in both the February and March writing workshops at Lake Atitlan, and as always, I'm hoping to encourage those of you who may have been thinking about joining me -- including some of you who tell me you have never written anything before -- to do so. And because I'm so eager to have you join us, I've given some thought to ways that make this more possible.
For the February workshop, I've arranged for housing (very basic, but fine) for a person who might love to come down, but one operating on a particularly tight budget. If you'd like to discuss that, by all means drop a note to my assistant, Melissa Vincel.
And in March -- the workshop scheduled for March 15-22 -- here is a way I'm hoping some of you might manage to join us: Come with a friend (and share one of Posada Santiago's beautiful bungalows with him or her) and each of you will pay only $1500 per person, tuition, plus the shared-accomodation rate of $315 per person. This brings your total workshop cost down to $1815, all inclusive. (And of course, for any of you who have already signed up, solo -- if you enlist a friend to join you and share your bungalow, this same rate will apply to you.) Don't hesitate to email Melissa or let her know you'd like to speak by telephone, if you're interested but have questions.
Meanwhile: I am happy to tell you that we have added, to our teaching roster, two terrific writers. In February, I will be joined by Laura Lippman, the best-selling author of What the Dead Know, and the Tess Monaghan series, including Hardly Knew Her, Another Thing to Fall. Marie Howe, a wonderful poet who teaches creative writing at Sarah Lawrence College and New York University, and a recipient of NEA and Guggenheim fellowships, will be joining me and Ann Hood for the March workshop.
Before
I close, I want to let you know that I will be appearing at Book Passage
in Corte Madera, CA, on December 12th at 7 pm, to read my piece that appears
in a new collection, called Going Hungry. For my readers who won't
be able to attend, I'm also adding it to my website. It's called Thirty
Years Later, Still Watching the Scale.
And look for a new essay from me that will appear in the January issue of Prevention Magazine, on sale in Mid-December.
With friendship,
RECOMMEND JOYCEMAYNARD.COM TO A FRIEND
