A Fond Farewell to 2015

Normally, at the end of each year I like to get my house and office in order to ring in the new -- files filed, everything printed up that needs printing, fresh lists made of the ever-expanding roster of fiction projects I've completed and the shrinking list of those yet to achieve their first drafts. As 2015 waned, I did all these things, only to fall more than three weeks behind on updating this blog with the first of 2016's posts.

Without adieu, I hope to fix that one shortcoming. Know that the weeks between Now and Before have been busy ones, devoted to writing. In fact, the first two weeks of 2016 saw me completing the two of my oldest as-yet unwritten ideas (unwritten no more!), which hail from the long ago. 1984, in fact!

Back to 2015. The year kicked off with promise, despite a winter so brutal and long that I wondered if it would ever end. We suffered frozen pipes, both in our basement and elsewhere in town, ice dam damage to the roof, and what seemed an endless supply of snow and icicles, which transformed the sun porch of our home into a jagged dragon's mouth filled with transparent teeth. In 2015, I lost three relatives, including my beloved and brilliant Grandmother Rachel, who once wrote for Highlights For Children. Grammy Rachel was a great friend, and one of the two best grandmothers in the history of the universe (I'm looking at you, Grammy Lovey!).

In April, a week of sunny spring weather had me and the cats out on the sun porch writing, where I finished a first draft of my novel Kingdoms Be Damned in seven days. The sun porch throughout the summer was like my own private, comfortable, and efficient Command Center -- out there in my al fresco-style office, with its stunning views of the woods and mountains, I penned the longhand draft of a novella, Sweat Punk: A Love Story that kept me walking around in a daze for two months while I worked on numerous other projects. I was so wrapped up in the love story between two characters separated by walls both physical and cerebral that when the last page was put down, I mourned. On my birthday, I started my Space:1999 fan fiction novel, Metamorphosis, and found myself writing back and forth between both projects, and inspired to a height I haven't known before. I completed Metamorphosis in early October and shared the final chapter at one memorable meeting of my beloved Tuesday night writers' group, where I forgot I was German and blubbered nonstop throughout the reading. For the first time in my life -- my fiftieth on Planet Earth -- a new year began without a single Space:1999 story on the unwritten story idea list.

My collection of three novellas, Tales From the Robot Graveyard, was launched at Anthocon, an annual gem of the conference circuit held in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. During that fantastic weekend, it was my honor to see three other anthologies debut containing my stories, including Anthology: Year Three - Distant, Dying Ember, which features my long epic SF tale, "The Sun Struck". On Christmas Eve, I learned that 2015's conference would be the last, and wish to extend my profound thanks to Anthocon's organizers. I attended every one. It was a pleasure, truly.

(Reading from ROBOTS at Anthocon, photo courtesy of Tony Tremblay)

I kept some pretty spectacular company in 2015. Within the covers of Firbolg Publishing's spectacular anthology, Enter at Your Own Risk: Dreamscapes Into Darkness, my short story "One More" shared space with reprints by none other than the D.H. Lawrence, Mary Shelley, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Earlier in the spring, editor Dave Goudsward sought me out with a personal invitation to write a story for his charity anthology to benefit the John Greenleaf Whittier farm and museum -- my gothic ghost tale "The Coldest Room in the House" was selected to be the anchor story in Snowbound With Zombies and is nuzzled up against a reprint by Mister Whittier himself. And in May, H. David Blalock solicited an original short story from me -- "Breakwater" -- to appear alongside a reprint of "Beyond the Wall of Sleep" by the master himself, H.P. Lovecraft, in his anthology devoted to the lesser written of human villains in Lovecraftiana, The Idolaters of Cthulhu.

I traveled to an event at the Whittier Farm to read and autograph Snowbound, and spent three luxurious days at The Coppertoppe Inn for a Halloween writing retreat with my writers' group. Joining us at the retreat were my good friends Laura Bear from New York State, and Tina McCollum, my best friend from my teen years -- Tina and I used to hang out and write together weekdays following our release from the humorless prison of Salem High School, and did so again for a full week between my home and the top-shelf accommodations at Coppertoppe.

(With the talented and lovely Judi Ann Calhoun at the
Whittier reading event from SNOWBOUND)

As the year's final days ran out, I tallied up my totals from 2015, as I always do: two completed novels, four novellas, a feature film screenplay, and fifty-six short stories adding up to nearly 380,000 fresh words over the course of my fiftieth year. I published one book, saw my fiction appear or get accepted in numerous anthologies, and, above all, lived my life here in the mountains of my home state being happy while harming none.

2016 will hopefully continue the trend, and seems to be headed in the right -- and write -- direction as of this early juncture. In addition to those two ancient stories finally having their THE ENDs (I was both shocked and pleased to witness their characters coming alive from the dead and really running with the fresh pulses of ink, across pages that flew off notepads!), I have booked three writing retreats, a return visit to my beloved Wednesday night writers' group in the southern part of the state, and a trip into Boston, where I'll be reading from my short mystery, "Exhuming Secrets on a Hot August Day", which is set to appear in the anthology Murder Ink. And, after thirteen years together, my wonderful partner and I are going to tie the knot officially, which will make 2016 one for the history books.  Carpe diem!

Works-in-Progress -- Making Progress

Yesterday, I completed my 981st work of fiction, a short story of roughly 3,000 words that will launch to a regular editor for consideration in his newest print anthology for Cleis Press.  The charge toward my 1,000th is back on track after several weeks of literary split personality disorder in which I've felt a bit like Victoria Lord, the dignified and long-suffering heroine from my late, lamented soap, One Life to Live. Played by the amazing Erika Slezak, Victoria's gray matter housed Viki, Niki Smith, Princess, Tommy, Tori, and the frigid Jean Randolph among her multiple personalities; my literary version of Disassociative Identity Disorder, also known as my Works-in-Progress, could give Victoria Lord a run for the money.

My current W-i-P list contains two mysteries, a police proceedural, a Lovecraftian horror/fairy tale mashup, two memoirs (one that has swelled to seventy-eight pages), the usual unclassifiables, M/F and M/M romance, creature-feature monster tales, and the Big 1,000 itself, my Space:1999 novel, Metamorphosis.  All of my significant landmark stories -- #1, 50, 100, 500, 600, 700, 800, and 900 -- have been 1999 or other fan fiction efforts, written mostly for my own enjoyment (#900 was a loving and hilarious nod to Lost in Space whose story I dreamed in 1982; I read the novella, "Lost and Found," start to finish in May of 2011 to my then-writer's group, who seemed to dig it -- I sure did!).  Big 1,000 is bigger not only in terms of the number, a significant event I've anticipated since my teenage years, but also for its importance: my goal is to use Metamorphosis as a writing sample for both the publishers of the Space:1999 novels and Jace Hall, who I'll meet next month in Los Angeles.  Hall was executive producer on ABC's recent V reboot, and is shopping around an update on my beloved science fiction classic, repackaged as Space:2099.

But a few weeks ago, nearing the home stretch, I got into something of a marathon runner's nightmare, fingers and projects tangling together in lieu of legs. My Muse, who runs a fairly tidy and organized operation in my little home office Writing Room, inspired my pen in a dozen different directions.  These tentacles, attached to so many different writing projects, upset the normal balance of order, unleashing rare chaos that left me struggling to focus.  One of the memoirs had stalled on Page 16, and everything log-jammed behind it. Folders of half-completed drafts stacked up.  The Muse, who is constantly presenting me with fresh ideas, either refused to acknowledge his horse in the race was stumbling behind or didn't get the memo.  Luckily, on a bright Wednesday night camped out at my weekly writer's group, he got hip.  I wrote through the log-jam and forward momentum resumed.  Many of those half-completed manuscript drafts were dashed off to completion, creating inventory for when my regular editors ask me to contribute to new projects.  Quite a few remain yet as partials and howl in the night for me to finish them, but their numbers no longer seem so daunting.  And, through a couple of false starts, Metamorphosis is now on track.

It's been a long time since I stared at a blank white page without the slightest idea of what to write.  But in the not too distant future, Muse willing, I'll shortly hold the completed longhand draft of my 1,000th work of fiction, and then it will be on to the next millenial mark.

My Island Writing Getaway

(The Oceanic Hotel)

In three short months, I'll be headed across the Atlantic.  Not that far, in all truth -- ten miles east.  But the trip to Star Island, second largest in the Isles of Shoals, will be the farthest I've ever traveled in that direction.  I, my new laptop, plenty of fresh pads of paper, new pens, and my idea catalog will arrive by ferry on board the Thomas Laighton to the Oceanic, a grand old hotel rising up at the heart of Star Island where, for five days, I plan to work tirelessly upon and hopefully complete my 1,000th work of fiction, my Space:1999 novel, Metamorphosis.

I first learned of Dale Slongwhite's retreats in 2009, after leaving a writers group I was part of for sixteen years (and an integral presence in their twice-yearly weekend writing retreats).  I love to go away for a few days to someplace fresh, different, to court the Muse; have since 1993 when I attended my very first writing retreat.  But hitting the millennium mark, a goal I've dreamed of since high school, deserved a bit of the extra-special and so, in addition to spending several days in Los Angeles at the 2012 1999 convention with actors and others from the beloved 1975-77 series, I have treated myself to Star Island -- and a setting quite unlike any other!

It was my pleasure to speak with Dale regarding the writing life and what it shall be like to write while located so far out at sea.

(Dale Slongwhite on Star Island)

Please tell us about yourself, Dale.

I married young -- I earned an associates degree, got married, and worked full-time as a clerk in an insurance agency for two years while my husband finished his bachelor degree. It took me twenty-three more years to finish mine. I took a course here, a course there at eight different colleges. My goal was to finish college before our daughters. I'm proud to say I accomplished that goal in 1994 by earning a B.A. in Communications through a low-residency program at a Massachusetts liberal arts college. I took advantage of my "student" status (I was over forty at the time) by procuring interviews with four New England writers -- Elizabeth Searle (she won the Iowa short fiction award that year); Susan Dodd (she wrote the novel Mamaw, the fictionalized life story of Jesse James' mother); Mary McGarry Morris (whose book was an Oprah pick and later made into a move directed by Steven Spielberg) and Donald Hall (poet laureat of New Hampshire and later of the U.S.).

I grew up in Connecticut, moved to Massachusetts after marriage, and relocated to Florida five years ago. For the record, I am still married to the same man I put through college. We have just celebrated our forty-first anniversary.

What do you write?  How do you write?  

I write nonfiction, although I have been playing with a novel for two decades and am in the throes of publishing it. I co-authored a book Gathering with my sister. It is a collection of thirty essays about the intangible things we have gathered over the years. I wrote fifty stories for the 100th anniversary book for Florida Hospital. I have a July 15 deadline with the University of Florida Press for a book on farmworkers in Central Florida. As for writing, I use a LOT of paper. I am an environmentalist until it comes to my writing. I may write longhand, but in recent years, it's been more the laptop. But I always print out fresh material, make lots of longhand edits, and re-print it fresh.

(Recent attendees focused on fresh pages)

What are the origins of the writing retreats you offer in New Hampshire and Florida?

In 1993, I was laid off from a job I loved due to an acquisition. I had never collected unemployment before and did not know if I would earn my severance at the same time as unemployment. Within a week of the lay-off, I learned about Amherst Writers an Artists, a certification program in conducting writing retreats. I decided not to do the safe thing with my severance money. I spent nearly $2,000 and learned how to conduct workshops -- intended to be two and a half hours, once a week. Instead, I rented a Bed and Breakfast in Rockport, Massachusetts, and planned a Friday night - Sunday afternoon retreat.

A year later, I remembered taking a boat trip that stopped at Star Island, a Unitarian Retreat Center. I called and asked if they allowed non-Unitarians to hold retreats there. They said yes, but only during the first two weeks of September (rules may have changed), and if it was educational or spiritual. This September will be my eighth workshop on Star Island.

How many writers attend your retreats annually?  Do writers return year to year?

Eight to ten writers. One writer has attended all eight and will be returning. Another has attended four and will be returning. Others have attended two. The rest often write at this time of year, lamenting they will not be able to join us but hope to in the future.

What are the island and facility like?

Star Island is the second largest of the group of nine rocky islands named The Isles of Shoals. Although it is "the largest," it is still quite small. One could walk the perimeter in fifteen minutes. It is located nearly ten miles off the coast of Portsmouth, New Hampshire. In the center is a huge old-fashioned "hotel" called The Oceanic. It has a wrap-around porch with dozens of rattan rocking chairs where conferees gather each evening to watch the sunset as though they were about to attend opening night of the year's blockbuster movie hit. The facilities are rustic, but no one seems to mind since the environment is magical.

What format does the retreat follow -- is it structured or relaxed?

Both. We gather around a large oak table in the Writing Room of the Oceanic Hotel. I provide carefully-chosen writing prompts. We write for a specified amount of time then share our work, if we so choose. (Almost everyone does, even if they are shy at first). We comment on what stays with us, what we think is good, what the writer did right. Critique is not allowed. We meet for two+ hours, three times a day. By the end of the four days, we have the beginning of fourteen or so pieces. Some have less beginnings if they choose to continue writing on the same piece.

I come with a schedule that accounts for every minute of every day, but I'm tuned in to the needs of the conferees and I'm not afraid to change it.

(Star Island's chapel)

What accomplishments have come out of the Star Island retreat?

You probably mean publications, and there have been many. But the more important accomplishment to me is how a Star Island Writing Retreat changes the life of an individual. I have seen many an attendee arrive head down, mumbling they thought they'd give it a try but they can't really write but they want to and I'm sorry I'm not as good as everyone else, no I won't read. By the second day, that person is smiling, reading wonderful pieces, and proudly proclaiming, "I am a writer."

I have seen an eighty-year-old man write a letter to his long-deceased father, finally coming to terms with their differences. I have seen a woman who never wrote before write amazing essays about unexpectedly losing her husband only six months before. "This was better than therapy," she said. I have seen lifelong friendships formed. I have been hugged tightly and told, "I couldn't have done it without you." I have seen newbies cheered on by veterans. I have seen writers emulate the techniques of others. 

That's why I travel 1,333 miles (according to Google maps) every September to conduct the Star Island Writing Retreat.

Finally, and this is the most important question of all, is there coffee on Star Island? Preferably iced?

Coffee is provided on the wrap-around porch each morning and at each meal. You can purchase it in between at the tiny snack bar during the posted hours. Wouldn't know about iced.