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Two days home from a slice of heaven-on-earth, and I
can’t yet return to the status quo. Really, there’s no “status quo” after one
experiences such growth in so many ways. In time, the summer writers’ retreat
at the Hemingway-Pfeiffer Museum Educational Center will become part of the new
status quo, right?
One of a dozen writers from as far as Sarasota, FL
and as near as McDougal, AR, I melded into the group bound by more than
geography: we wanted to learn to “write like Hemingway.”
The mentor, a University of Central Arkansas
professor with a heavy British accent—a writer himself—deftly led us through
five short stories of the “master,” with writing assignments—if we needed or
wanted them—for that night’s and/or the next day’s writing times.
And if that weren’t enough, one of the writers, a
professor emeritus from my alma mater, Hendrix College—across town from UCA—had
an even heavier Irish brogue. He is scheduled to further his studies with
Garry, the mentor, this fall.
Other writers hailed from “out in the country” in
Piggott, Rector, Little Rock, Fayetteville, Benton (one other besides me),
Jonesboro and Pollard—all in-state.
One wrote Christian romance—and had books for sale,
one had written a personal memoir and
was working on a family history, one had a manuscript out, one wrote
devotionals and was into a novel, one hadn’t written before this week except
for herself, one wrote for (and won) contests, one was writing a series of
stories based on his work in a homeless shelter, one wrote stories from his
experience, one wrote family history and poems, and one wrote plays, skits,
dramas for church and Vacation Bible School. I put my sequel out of mind and
wrote short stories based on the assignments.
Breakfasts at The Inn at Piggott prepared by Beverly
Scott, lunches at H-P prepared by Karen Stout and Carolyn Caldwell kept us well-fueled
for the days’ work. Supper, ‘scuse me, dinner was on our own. One night, it was
Los Compadres, the next, Donna’s (Beverly’s sister), one night at the Piggott
Diner and one night, we stayed in and ate our own snacks, etc.
On the Sunday before my first trip to HPMEC, during the 'joys and concerns' in church, I asked for traveling mercies, that I was going to Piggott for a week. The minister slowly turned with
questioning eyes, like “Why would anyone go to Piggott?” But he didn’t say
that. What he said was, “You’ll be the most exciting thing in Piggott.”
Not true! Not true! It wasn’t true then, and it’s
definitely not true today. Tracy and Joe Cole bought the former Downtown Inn
and began refurbishing it immediately. Already, two of the rooms have
Hemingway-related themes: Pauline’s Room (Pauline Pfeiffer was Ernest’s second
wife) is one and the Hunter’s Room contains furniture made by Joe Cole. Imagine
a chandelier of animal horns in a circular design.
The room I usually stay in will be transformed into
The Safari Room by the next trip, Joe said. We’ll see how well I sleep
with a rack of kudu horns over my head.
Google Image!One day's breakfast at the inn in Piggott. 2012, including yours truly.
c 2015 Pat Laster, author of A Journey of Choice, and an up-coming sequel, Her Face in the Glass.
3 comments:
Wow, how great this must have been!!!! I thought I would like to do it and then I thought how scary it would be to produce under the eyes of all these folks! Will you be sharing the stories, pulling them together in a book,or something???? Have a good weekend at home...no place like home, like Dorothy said!
Really enjoyed this year's retreat. Learned a lot and had fun after hours.
Thanks to both Claudia, uh, Bookie, and Dorothy, fellow writer, for your comments. I don't guess I'll ever forget the experience.
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