Last Saturday, residents and friends gathered in the community room at Harwood Place to listen to the Writers of Harwood read stories they’d written over the last year. This is the sixth year we’ve done the reading event, and it’s a thrill to see each writer take to the podium and share their work. As always, listening to them read you can also hear reactions in the audience–affirmations of connection and deep sighs of remembrance. Because each story as written and shared by the author stirs memories and emotions from the listener. In those moments, connections are made and community deepened.
The Writers of 2019
Front row left to right: Carolou, Ruth, Val, Mary Back row: Maura, Toni, Marion, Chuck, Betty, Christi
(Not pictured but in the audience, Richard and Geri)
This event, and the anthology, could not have happened without the help of several people. Thank you to Harwood Place for giving us the space (and the refreshments!) for the reading, to my husband for taking the photos, to the friends and family who came out to support these lovely writers, and to my fearless co-leader, Maura Fitzgerald, who bore the brunt of the anthology layout & publication work (and did it with grace and a smile).
As these writers change, so do the dynamics of teaching and leading them. But one fact remains: no matter who you are, how young or old you are, your stories make all the difference to the people around you.
In my “I’ve got the podium” photo on the right, I seem to be stressing that very point: Put #PenToPaper! The hardest part is getting to the table.
Once you’re there and surrounded by your community, the writing comes a little easier.
Time was limited. People like Ralph, the men, and women who had lived during WWII, would soon be gone. I didn’t want their stories to die with them. Sites of remembrance, including concentration camps, are part of their stories, part of history not to be ignored or forgotten. Such places act as persuasive and effective teachers. Are people still willing to learn?
I’m constantly asked for resources on how people can move forward learning about Indigenous culture, and I’m often repeating the same thing: read books. . . . Indigenous peoples cannot do the work for you. You must dig in and learn yourself, and the best way to do that is lean into our cultures. Learn about us. Do your research, and then we can have a conversation that isn’t a one-sided history or cultural lesson.
Writers work successfully in so many different ways, I never assume that what works for me is best for someone else. But if a common denominator exists among us, it might be attitude: the enterprise of writing a book has to feel like walking into a cathedral. It demands humility. The body of all written words already in print is vaulted and vast. You think you have something new to add to that? If so, it can only come from a position of respect: for the form, the process, and eventually for a reader’s valuable attention.
Details play a significant role in our writing, whether we write poems, essays or novels. Details build story, deepen story, and provide more ways for readers to connect with story.
…with space, an invitation, and a gentle push from another writer facing similar challenges, we are more likely to show up at the table and set pen to paper. We are more likely to encourage the writer across from us and–together–create more art.
Two steps into August, and it’s past time for a summer edition of the Remington Roundup. Here’s your links to a cool new podcast for story lovers, a how-to book for story composers, and an end-of-summer in-person workshop for story explorers. 
Speaking of the nuts and bolts of craft, I’m offering an in-person workshop this month for writers called