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SATURDAYFARMSHARE
SATURDAYFARMSHARE BOOKGARDAN: SEED SAVERS
By Kate Moses
“I am interested in writing away the invisibility of women’s lives, looking at writing as an act of redemption. In order to do this, I need the companionship, the example, of other women who are writing.” —Canadian novelist Carol Shields
“We are traditionally rather proud of ourselves for having slipped creative work in between the domestic chores and obligations. I’m not sure we deserve such a big A-plus for that.” — Toni Morrison
Twenty-five years ago, two women writers with uninspiring freelance gigs, four small children, one shared babysitter, and never enough time to write what they wanted to write -- let alone talk to anyone about it -- got an idea during a trip to the zoo with their kids: What if they used this mysterious new thing called the World Wide Web to send stories into the ether about their lives, and the lives of other women like them? “Like them” meaning women who were also struggling to balance the needs of others against their own pressing needs, especially the need to seize their narratives and write them. Would anyone care? And how would we know—waiting in the carpool line at the elementary school or sitting at the dining room table typing with one hand and jiggling a fussy baby with the other? This was back in the Wild West of the internet, back before wifi if you can believe it – when we were still scratching our heads about “e-mail,” whatever that was, and you could count the number of websites floating in cyberspace on one hand. But somehow this experiment in reaching out to other women writers and readers worked: electronic communication opened a dialogue about women’s lives, both outer and inner, that reached across time zones and international borders, starting an ongoing conversation women could join whenever they could snatch the time – in the middle of the night, during naptime, while pumping milk at their desk during lunch break at work.
Buried deep in the soil of Bookgardan, Craigardan’s flagship writing program, is the very real impact of one of the first virtual communities of women writers and readers. The collaborative creativity, sisterhood, and antidote to isolation that distinguished Mothers Who Think are now hallmarks of Bookgardan, as are the mentorship and “believing eyes” that I similarly benefitted from during the writing of my first novel, thanks to the friendship and wisdom of legendary biographer Diane Middlebrook. As I wrote my novel about poet Sylvia Plath and Diane wrote a biography of Plath and her husband Ted Hughes, we traded archival material gleaned from library research trips around the US and England, thereby gaining a mutual, unmatchable understanding of each other’s works-in-progress. To whom else but me, her obsessed confederate, could Diane send this unintentionally amusing late-night email: “Where or where have I put SP’s diaphragm? Perhaps you have it?” So gratifying was our literary alliance that when our books were finished and on their way to publication, Diane suggested we start a salon for women writers to talk about their writing, their process, and the challenges they faced, creating a latticework of support for the intertwining of shared knowledge and reciprocal interest in one another’s success. Hundreds of women writers took part in the salon, which originated in our hometown of San Francisco and spread to branches in London and New York; before her untimely death, Diane asked me to keep the San Francisco salon going. Amy Tan, Camille Dungy, Sylvia Brownrigg, Anchee Min, Micheline Aharonian Marcom, Lyndall Gordon and Elif
Batuman are among the writers who spoke about their work over eighteen years. Many, many more traded professional advice, supported each other’s books, and became friends.
“Women have a different kind of conversation when men aren’t around,” Diane had said. When Michele Drozd and I began talking about launching Bookgardan, it was with Diane’s idea of a “different kind” of conversation in mind, a crossfertilizing community, and mentorship. Our goal was that each writer would see her own literary vision growing before her eyes, and also feel the camaraderie, curiosity, and faith of an intimate circle of peers. “At the end of the day it is all about connection,” says Radhika Shivaraman of Bookgardan 3. “There is nothing in this world that can be more potent. This I realize now. And that is what writing does, you connect with your deep self . . . ‘We want someone to see us, just the way we want to be seen, we want someone to understand us just the way we want to be understood.’ Those are the most powerful lines in The Great Gatsby, truth lying casually in those pages.” “It is not an exaggeration to say that without Bookgardan, my book would not have been written,” says Karen Hollis, a continuing alum of Bookgardan 2; many of the Bookgardan writers opt to continue their work together and with me at the end of their program year. “The gift of belief in me as a writer, in my emergent work, bestowed by the entire community and set-up, was essential.” Every October for four years, a crop of Bookgardan writers has arrived for the annual program’s week-long residencies, held during the color- and woodsmoke-saturated pageant of leaf season. At each of two intensive residencies, four to six writers live together and share meals, gather for group conferences, wake to yoga or crisp morning walks, write and think, and meet individually with their mentor to plan a year’s work or discuss their progress. Bookgardan is designed to keep the writers’ eyes on the prize of cultivating the novel, essays, memoir, or short story collection that holds their vision as artists. At the end of the year, they are loaded with tools to help them keep going. One group of writers is meeting each other for the first time. The residency is a kind of hardening off of their tender cohort before a year of dedicated writing on their own, growing their books-inprogress with the help of regular group check-ins online and monthly manuscript conferences with me. They spend Residency 1 learning about each other’s lives, the names of pets and partners, looking at pictures of kids and talking about what they’re reading and noticing how each of them likes their coffee or tea. They gather every day for seminars on developing their writing practice to meet the challenge of the year to follow as they write alone, back at home, but with the knowledge that they’re now part of an ecosystem of curiosity, encouragement, understanding, and sustained artistic production. It really is kind of a garden, with companion plants all around the country and the soaker hose of Zoom connecting all of us weekly. A second group of writers reunites for their Residency 2, a joyous and satisfying reunion with now familiar and trusted peers. “Often as a writer, I feel removed from the rest of the world, living in my head with my characters,” says Kathy Bratkowski, continuing alum of Bookgardan 1. “Writers and artists tend to be misfits in the regular world. At Craigardan, I felt like I was among my tribe of writers and creatives. And sheep.” Residency 2 feels like a kind of harvest celebration at the culmination of the Bookgardan year, following twelve months of steady fertilization of each writer’s writing practice: those weekly check-ins and advanced-level craft talks with their cohort, Zoom visits with published writers and publishing professionals, “field trips” to online literary events, and many long, deep hours of talking about their growing and changing manuscript, one on one, with me. Just as during Residency 1 each writer gets an evening to introduce herself and her project to the rest of group, during Residency 2 the writers update their cohort on the artistic journey they’ve taken over the year: what surprised them, what challenged
them, and what did they learn not only about the story they’re telling, but about themselves. “Our in-person residencies were magical,” says Patricia Zaballos, now a continuing alum of Bookgardan 1, “walking in fog past the sheep for morning yoga; looking out at the Adirondacks in their red and gold fall glory; our morning craft talks with coffee and Kate; eating sustaining, delicious meals lovingly prepared for us while chatting about our writing progress; sitting beside Kate in golden afternoon light, discussing my project; evening gatherings and readings with inspiring writers; sitting side-by-side at wheels in the ceramic studio, giggling at our slumping clay; and the nighttime readings and discussions of our projects—with lots of laughter and some tears— which were the heart of the experience.” What makes Bookgardan unique among the expanding field of low-residency writing and book cultivation programs is first, as the name suggests, its demonstration of Craigardan’s values, with two anchoring, place-based residencies and collaborative experiences to encourage artistic growth and collective problem solving. “I arrived at Craigardan fairly confident in my work, but still daunted by the task of actually finishing a book,” says Maureen Cummins, a Bookgardan 1 Alum who spent two years with her cohort before taking a hiatus to concentrate on completion of her final manuscript draft. “I no longer doubt my ability to complete a manuscript; it is now only a question of time.”
“I was drawn to Bookgardan because of the opportunity to collaborate with women writers and cultivate a community,” says Lisa Rizzo, a Bookgardan 2 continuing alum whose cohort was five months into their year when COVID-19 forced global shutdowns. “I’m thankful that our cohort was able to have our first residency in person, to actually be with each other. The intimacy we gained has helped keep me going during the pandemic.” That intimacy is perhaps what’s most unique about Bookgardan, and it develops out of the program’s intentional structure. Most writing programs rely on the workshop model of participants receiving formal critiques of their work from their peers, each of whom is responsible for reading significant portions of the others’ manuscripts. This practice tends to place an unnecessary burden on the time and attention of writers and can force them into tactical choices for their material when what they and their writing need to develop are creative freedom, a delicate touch, and patience. Instead of workshopping, Bookgardan is structured on intuitive, generative, and organic development of works-in-progress. Freed of the obligation of formal peer review, the cohort gets to know and trust each other through their shared experience during Residency 1, when the writers introduce their projects and evenings culminate in readings of their work to their curious, engaged, and increasingly invested peers. Those shared readings continue throughout the year. “What bonded our group together were the shared readings, the intense immersion in each other’s work,” says Maureen. “The readings!” Anna Soref, Bookgardan 2 continuing alum, says with enthusiasm. “Each night gathering in the living room with chocolate and wine and lots of pages to read aloud.” “Having other writers witness my work in our shared evening readings took my project out of my head, made it more real, and encouraged me to want to get it out in the world,” says Patricia. “Bringing my work to that beautiful country in the Adirondacks gave my project a sort of sacredness that it didn’t have when I worked alone at my desk at home.”
Residential arts organizations everywhere have had to find ways to adapt how they serve artists through the COVID-19 crisis, and Bookgardan is no different. Our third cohort had to begin with a virtual Residency 1 in the fall of 2020, which posed a real challenge to create an online experience that could build the kind of nuanced intimacy gained from spending a week together under one roof. Bookgardan 2’s Residency 2 also had to segue to an online format. “From the respect and love that flowed among the writers during our
retreat in the Adirondacks a kinship formed. When COVID hit, that bond kept our group and writing alive,” says Anna. “Seeing the faces of my fellow writers each week on the computer screen kept me accountable. Not just to write, but to the writerly life. I loved taking time for personal bits -- like Deirdre’s tour through her COVID-retreat cabin in the woods.” Karen Hollis, also a continuing alum in Bookgardan 2, says, “During times of hardship in life in general and at sticky, discouraging points in my manuscript, the weekly check-ins and continuing craft work with women who cared whether or not I was writing kept me moving forward.” But what of Bookgardan 3, stuck in lockdown as their program year began? Would supply kits with recipe suggestions for shared meals, candles and essential oils for atmosphere, books and pens and scrapbooks and of course tea, coffee, and really good chocolate bridge the gap between sitting around a table together and seeing each other’s faces over Zoom? Tracy Mayo of the current cohort offers her take on Bookgardan, pandemic style: “Who knew a pandemic cohort could be so much fun? It’s been a ten-month celebration of words, ideas, and friendships. That we’ve only met virtually (soon to change) has proven, surprisingly, to be only the slightest negative. And Kate is amazing. Her wise mentoring, skillful teaching and ever-present encouragement have lifted us all. Our weekly lessons have demystified the writing process and empowered my creative genius to come out and play. I will leave our upcoming residency with a grateful heart, full from the support and brilliance of my cohort.” Kris Haines-Sharp of Bookgardan 3 feels that despite being virtual so far – our fingers are still crossed for an in-person Residency 2 in October of this year – for her, Bookgardan has been “Nothing less than a metamorphosis, from ‘a person who loves to write’ to ‘a writer who usually loves to write.’ This is the gift of Bookgardan in my life. From the first days of our virtual retreat, Kate fostered a community of smart and interesting women and these writers have stayed the course and become important persons in my life. Above all, perhaps, Kate understands my approach and continually pushes me towards a deeper connection to my own story.” Kris and Tracy’s companion in Bookgardan 3, Julie Haupert, agrees: “Really, it would take a lifetime to even begin to say how my life has been transformed by this experience, the gardan, and Kate, its master gardener. Sometimes you just need to trust the creator within you and dig in, deeply, to the process. The seed was planted so long ago.” And Julie’s right, of course – like anything else Bookgardan is going to give back to its writers in the proportion to what they bring to it themselves. That’s always were we start on day one of Residency 1, with the famous quote from Robert Frost: “No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.” You have to bring your heart to your story in all the ways that means something to you, in all the ways your story matters to your life. It’s all about connection, as Radhika says.* And if you can do that, Bookgardan is designed to sustain you as you get your words on the page.
