It’s not a great sign that I can’t even produce a creative title. It should at least represent something to do with the coast or Rockaway Beach, or the amazing Colonyhouse log cabin I’m staying at. But my brain feels a bit dehydrated. I may have to plead for your patience. Again. Who knows. Maybe once I get writing, I can limber up and come up with something halfway entertaining. Who am I kidding. But then again inspiration might strike. Ghosts of writers past might whisper an amazing title in my ear. The main problem with an amazing title is that I would then have to change everything that I have written so far, and I think that there is a sentence or two that are worth reading. The rest a speed, skim read will suffice.
My goal is to create readers that can’t get enough of my writing. What better way to attract writers by having dynamite headlines. Headlines and titles. Headlines and titles and book covers. I’m a million to do’s away from even slightly consider future cover designs. Can’t have a dust jacket if there’s not many pages between the covers.
Readers that love my work. If I am going to start setting goals, I might as well dream big, right?
These thoughts are brought to you by Lori L. Lake’s Writing Academy. No, they aren’t Lori’s words. Her writing retreat has gifted me with the opportunity to think these words, to have the time, the setting, the support to write the down.
I didn’t know I was at an Academy. The Autumn Women’s Writing Retreat At Colonyhouse/Brecht House has been a taste of heaven.
There’s something invigorating about being surrounded by ten creative-driven women. Contagious curiosity. Ideas and possibilities are zinging and zagging all over the house, some generated by the eleven of us participating in this amazing writer’s retreat, but this house, this log cabin, is the home to the Oregon Writer’s Colony, so these walls have experienced a lot of writers. I’m sure that not all of their ideas went home with them. In fact, I was told that it has been said that the Colonyhouse is haunted. I didn’t ask why. Writers have a notorious habit for taking their own lives, though the house is so soothing I can’t imagine this happening.
Gilbert Stanley Underwood, the architect of the Colonyhouse, has an amazing resume. I was blown away that Underwood was the architect for the Timberline Lodge. The people who built the Timberline also built the Colonyhouse.
Many writers have come over the years for seminars and retreats. As I walk from my room, far room upstairs, and hear the creaks and squeaks of the floor, as I carefully maneuver the stairs that aren’t necessarily level or even the same size, I think of all of the feet that have made this walk. The famous, the not so famous, and the rest of us who write to write, though if I learn how to write that makes lots of people want to read me, wouldn’t that put me in the category of being famous?
Once again, I’m putting the cart in front of the horse. I’ve got to focus on the learning how to write first.