When I was young, my family lived with my grandmother for a time in Washington, D.C. , in one of the old neighborhoods with houses of colonial brick and Italianate stucco. Grandmother’s house was a colonial, with perfect symmetry: a window on each side of the front door, three windows across the top, and a little pediment decorating the top of the entry. The house was in a neighborhood with a dizzying array of similarly designed houses, on blocks and blocks of numbered and alphabetically-named streets. I memorized the address – as every city child should do – and can recite it to this day.
A summer writing workshop is the dreamy creative home for every aspiring writer. Lord knows I’ve been to many of them. I’ll go to many more. But something has changed in my writing life. Now I teach them too. For the first time this year, I’ll be teaching at Meredith College’s summer writing workshops, June 23 – 27, 9-3, a kind of day camp for women writers. I’ve just visited the campus for the first time, and it’s so lovely it’s like living in a Mid-summer Night’s Dream of a women’s college, with rolling lawns, riotous gardens, and big trees. Read more