Writing with a Psychoanalytic Edge
It didn’t take long for most of us to realize how smart we had been in having responded to Deirdre Callanan, Don Chiapinelli, and Lauren Wolk’s offer that we might come to Cape Cod for the summer writing retreat. And by “smart”, I mean “incredibly lucky.” Those of us who had the chance to hear Lauren, Don or Deirdre speak at the April weekend, Inspiration in our writing: Who are our heroes? already knew that we would be working with extraordinary teachers of writing. What we didn’t know beforehand was how beautiful our setting would be, how hard Don had worked all summer to prepare all of the details of our time on the Cape, or how generous and gracious Deirdre and Jack Harrison would be in welcoming us to their home.
The retreat started on Saturday evening with a reception on Deirdre and Jack’s back deck, a nice opportunity to reconnect with friends from pervious New Directions events and to meet those new to us, including partners who had also made the trip.
The writing began Sunday morning, as we gathered in Deirdre’s dining room around her expansive table – actually a reclaimed worktable from a local high school library. Each morning, Deirdre or Lauren began by reading a poem or an excerpt from a novel or short story, a work of non-fiction or even, to my delight, a picture book. They led us in discussions of particular features of the writing, followed by exercises that alternated between devious and delightful, that produced groans and laughs and surprising writing.
Take Lauren’s requirement that we write using only four letter words. I suspect that I am not the only one who came to the secret conclusion that surely she did not count “the” or “and”:
Lauren pushed us to think: Is this the right word or the easy word?
Sleek and elegant in its Upper East Side certainty, the computer refused to notice the pencil.
How does everything in the scene tell the story?
Hunkered down in the most comfortable chair, which wasn’t saying much, her concentration all on that new phone, sending and reading texts, stifling chuckles. Glancing up only occasionally, sliding her eyes across the scene then back down. Her brother leaning into the door frame, decidedly not in the room. Her sister at the side of the bed, quiet then loud. The scorned second wife, assigned to a corner, ignored. It was late, and the coroner was slow to come.
But it was Deirdre’s questions that took me by surprise:
I had come certain I knew what I wanted to write about, until Deirdre asked, “What did you build, create or imagine as a child?” and something completely unexpected took flight in me.
-thumb-225x147-367992.jpg)
Later each morning, we broke into four smaller writing groups. Besides working with Deirdre and Lauren, we now had the chance to work with Don and with Catherine. In these groups, we began the work on the pieces we had each brought to the retreat as our primary focus for the week, although some participants worked on new pieces created at the retreat in these groups.
I was assigned to Catherine’s group, which was put together for those of us who wanted support for professional writing. This gave me the chance to work closely with Anne Adelman, Billie Pivnick, Sheila Felberbaum, and Mary Davis, who provided an outstanding audience for a book chapter I was revising. These groups met for four of the six days, and on the other two days we were split up and had the opportunity to work with other teachers and participants.
In the afternoons and evenings, we had the option of writing or of enjoying the many tourism opportunities the Cape has to offer. For me, this meant trips to the beach, to Provincetown and to art galleries, and a nearly constant consumption of seafood. If lobster could somehow be incorporated into a dish, I’m sure I ate it. Early mornings likewise offered opportunities to enjoy the Cape. Several participants gathered regularly for morning walks through the Harwich Conservation Trust. For Billie, Don and I, early mornings meant unforgettably beautiful swims across Sand Pond.
It seems right that this New Directions: Writing With A Psychoanalytic Edge blog was conceived during the 2012 Summer Writing Retreat. It is the third day of the retreat and I am standing in the kitchen of Deirdre Callanan and Jack Harrison’s Cape Cod home. I’m talking with Jack about using social media to get out the word about the New Directions writing program, while trying to help wash the dishes from the morning’s writers’ workshop. Deftly countering my efforts to worm in beside him at the sink, Jack proposes, “What brought people to this retreat? What keeps people coming back to the writing weekends? That’s the news that you need to get out about New Directions.”
There is so much to be said about the New Directions Program. The most basic point is that New Directions is a three-year, post-graduate program that brings together practicing psychoanalysts, psychotherapists, academics and writers who want to develop their professional and/or personal writing skills. These skills are developed through small group writers’ workshops led by experienced writing faculty and through whole-group presentations and discussions of weekend themes.
This description, while accurate, doesn’t answer Jack’s questions. What happens at New Directions that draws people in and keeps them coming back? That’s what I hope to capture here.
Through this blog, I hope to engage you in the powerful writing community that is New Directions. I am writing this for past and current New Directions participants, as a forum to help keep us connected. I am also writing for those who might be interested in the program and want to understand the experience better.
I plan to add about three or four new posts per year. I will write some of these and some will be written by guest bloggers who are New Directions participants. I anticipate four categories for the blog posts:
I’m glad you found this blog. To follow the blog, email me and I’ll put you on the subscription list. I hope through your comments and suggestions that it will become an extension of the New Directions community, in miniature.
Recent Comments