100 Years of Stories

Photo used with permission from UW-Eau Claire

Who doesn’t love a good story?

In celebration of UW-Eau Claire’s centennial, the College of Education and Human Sciences will host Storytelling Festival Friday on September 16 at 7 p.m. in the Davies Center Dakota Ballroom. The event is free and open to the entire community.

The festival will feature twelve storytellers made up of current and former UWEC students, faculty, and staff. There will be a mix of personal narratives and folklore, all presented in traditional storytelling format. 

The storytellers include local fan favorites Chancellor James Schmidt; UWEC alumni Catherine Emmanuel of the Eau Claire City Council, Mike Paulus of Volume One, Psia Mou of the Eau Claire School District, Khoua Vang of the Eau Claire School District; faculty members Eric Torres of Education Studies, Kristin Rossi of Special Education; faculty emeritus August Rubrecht from English; and current students Mai Lee Kha, Kayla Patterson, and Sergei Raspel. 

Rob Reid of education studies will emcee and share a story, and Carmen Manning, dean of the College of Education and Human Sciences, will welcome the crowd.

The band Pit Wagon, which includes three UW-Eau Claire alumni, will play before the festival and during intermission. Doors open at 6:30pm. 

For more information, contact Rob Reid by email or at 715-836-5015.

Photo used with permission from UW-Eau Claire

Why You Should Attend
a Writers Residency at Cirenaica

When I first heard that the Chippewa Valley Writers Guild would be partnering with Cirenaica to host a series of writers residencies this summer, I was intrigued. As a recent college grad, I’d fallen into the trap of trying to figure out how the real world works (bills, work, buying kitchenware, getting oil changes). Because I was so busy doing that, I reasoned that I didn’t have any time to focus on my writing. Not even an hour a day or an hour a month. The excuses kept flowing, and as a result, I haven’t devoted much time to writing in two years, the activity I claimed to love so much.

Then the opportunity to attend the fiction residency at Cirenaica presented itself, and I decided to stop making excuses and sign-up. 

For a multitude of reasons, it’s the best decision I’ve made in a long time. While there are 100 reasons to sign-up, I’ll limit this list to four reasons why you should attend a writers residency at Cirenaica this summer.

  1. Writing. If you’re going to a writer’s residency/retreat, this is might seem obvious. However, getting three weekend mornings of uninterrupted writing (or reading) time is an incredibly precious thing. In the real world, we always have work to do, kids to care for, and projects around the house to get to. Many times, we let these important things get in the way of our writing, which is also important to us. Cirenaica allows you to take a short reprieve from all of these things and focus on you and your writing. For me, that made the entire experience worth it.

  2. Location. Beautiful. Tranquil. Breathtaking. Any and all of these words can be used to describe Cirenaica. Located in Fall Creek, Wisconsin on “43 acres of hills, farmland, and forest,” it is the perfect spot to be with your thoughts and write. There isn’t a view that I don’t miss. The early morning lighting and view that you see coming up the driveway; sitting on the deck at night, watching the sunset behind the woods; seeing a deer through the window while workshopping. Come see the sights for yourself!

  3. Food. Cirenaica: come for the writing, stay for the food. One of the many perks of attending Cirenaica is that you get three meals a day for the entire three days you’re there. Let me tell you, the food is amazing. So good that you’ll want to go up for thirds, even if some people haven’t eaten yet (no, I did not do this…). From delicious, homemade hummus and quinoa salad for lunch, to fresh grilled veggies and tenderloin for dinner, I’m already nostalgic for the food that has come and gone. Rest assured, you will write well and eat well at Cirenaica.

  4. Community. This is the main reason why I’ll be coming back to Cirenaica next year. It seems unlikely that 10 strangers can come to a writers retreat and leave as friends three days later, and yet Cirenaica made it happen. As writers, we’re only as successful as the community that supports and pushes us to test the limits of our work. Now, thanks to Cirenaica, I have that community. I now have the email addresses and phone numbers of 10 writers 一 10 friends 一 who I can ask for advice on a story or essay I’m working on. They’ll hold me accountable, and tell me to stop making excuses and get writing. They’ll give me honest, yet kind feedback. I can’t even put a price on how valuable this is. Let Cirenaica introduce you to your writing community.

I went into Cirenaica not knowing what to expect. I left three days later with an abundance of ideas for my YA novel, a network of writers who I trust with my work, and a rediscovered motivation to get and keep writing. No more excuses for me!

There are still a few spots available in the July residencies! Join Kimberly Blaeser, Wisconsin’s Poet Laureate, for her poetry residency, or hang out with John Hildebrand and work on your nonfiction piece during his nonfiction residency.

If you’ve found that you’re making excuses for not writing, maybe a weekend at Cirenaica is all you need to break the pattern! Sign-up for one of these remaining spots today!

Please Take a Short (Yet Very Important) Survey!

As we come to the close of the Chippewa Valley Writers Guild’s inaugural season, it’s time to hear from you!  How can we make this Guild YOUR Guild? How can we better provide you the resources needed to support your own writing?

Please take two minutes to fill out the survey below.  Be on the ground floor of helping us make the Guild great!

Our Once-a-Year Ask: The Beginning and End of our 2016 Fundraising Drive

Whether you love the craft talks, the open reads, or the friendship and fellowship that follows, the Chippewa Valley Writers Guild has something for everyone! Thank you for helping us make our first season a great one!  We’ve touched thousands of lives in short order, and we couldn’t do it without you. 

While the Guild is here to support you, please take a moment to support the Guild as well. Consider becoming a $5/month sustaining member, or making a one time gift that fits your budget.  When we all give a little, no one needs to give a lot. 

Besides, it’s easy! Just click here and, in the pull down menu on the right of the “Make a Donation” box, direct your gift to the “Chippewa Valley Writers Guild.”

Our gratitude runs deep. Thank you for helping us sustain our organization.

Spotlight: Sarah Lou Richards On Songwriting

Sarah Lou Richards

Sarah Lou Richards

By BJ Hollars

I first meet Sarah Lou Richards on a rainy night in August.  She’s scheduled to play the Sounds like Summer Concert series, though given the uncooperative weather, is forced to cut the show short.  

Concertgoers pack up all around me, squeezing the water from their drenched blankets as they head back toward their cars.  But since my family and I are already soaked beyond saving, we take our time, and in our casualness, eventually make our way toward Sarah Lou.  

I introduce myself, tell her how much I enjoyed her music, and mention how great it would be to have her drop by one of my creative writing classes some time if it ever fit her schedule.

“Of course!” she says.

“Really?” I say.  

And then, a few months later, she makes good on it. 

The following April I meet Sarah Lou for the second time.  She’s riding out more miserable weather, this time in the visitor’s parking lot hut on the UW-Eau Claire campus.

She is unmistakable in her red-rimmed glasses, her leather boots, her guitar case slung over her shoulder. 

“Hey there,” I say, nodding to the hut.  “I see you’ve found our green room.”

“I’ll take it,” she laughs.

We thread through the swarms of students until making our way to my office.

“So you’re on tour?” I ask.

“I am,” she agrees.  “But I’m also helping my dad.  He just bought a new house in Menomonie, so today I’ve spent most of the day sanding boards and painting bathrooms, that sort of thing.”

“The glamorous rock star life,” I joke.

Sarah Lou offers a warm, Midwestern smile, one that reminds me that when she’s not busy being a rock star she’s busy being a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a fiancé, a friend, and today, my visiting lecturer. 

“So you graduated from here a few years ago?” I ask as we settle into my office.

“Yup, exactly.  I can’t really remember the year,” she says wryly.  “We won’t talk about that.”

What we do know—minus her exact graduation year—is that she studied to become a music teacher.  Though after a fortuitous visit to Nashville, she decided to try a new path: packing her bags and moving to Music City in August of 2007.

“I was totally taken by it,” she says of Nashville.  “I didn’t play guitar and I hadn’t written any songs yet, [but] I learned very quickly that Nashville is definitely a songwriting city, so I just kind of scrambled and started to make it happen.”

“So you were kind of just ‘driven by the dream’ so to speak?”

“Yup.”

“And never looked back?”

“Nope, definitely not.”

Admittedly, I’m more than a little inspired.  So many dream big, and yet putting oneself in a position to achieve those dreams is often easier said than done.  But not for Sarah Lou.  Rather than put her dream on hold she made it her priority, and after eight years of doing odd jobs in addition to her music, at last, music’s her job.

“Most months I can pay my electric bill,” she jokes.

Though it hasn’t been easy, the journey has been a joy.  And her music (which she describes as “folk Americana, with some country roots”) has benefited from that journey.

“It’s a lot of storytelling,” she says of her lyrics, “pretty relatable stuff.  And I definitely take a lot from my own life and the lives of those around me.”

Which means many of her songs are deeply personal, which can be complicated, she explains, when collaborating with others.

“It took me a really long time to find a collaborating partner,” she tells me.  “Nashville is really big on co-writing, which is awesome, but a lot of times its totally a cold call.  You just walk into a room with somebody you’ve never met and sit down and write a song.  And in that aspect, that’s how songwriting is just like any other job: you go and you do your job.  But for me,” she continues, “that’s been kind of tricky because it’s so personal.  Sometimes its scary because things come out that are really honest, and you know that listeners, even if you’re writing about something that’s not about your own life, that’s how it’s heard.  That can be intimidating—to be that brave, that honest.”

But it’s that honesty, I reason, that allows for relatability as well.   

Later that afternoon, she’ll encourage my students to interpret a few of her songs.

What do the lyrics mean to you? she’ll ask.

The students will offer their interpretations, Sarah Lou will nod, and then, she’ll provide insight into her true intentions.  Not that she necessarily has a preferred interpretation of her music.

“If [a song’s] received exactly as you intended, there’s something rewarding about being that clear,” she tells me.  “But it’s also really special if something totally different is taken from it.”

Connecting with listeners, Sarah Lou explains, is what matters most.

As we wrap up our conversation, I ask her to tell me about the highs and lows of being a musician in Nashville.  “Do you get a little of both?”

“Well I don’t think we have time for all the low moments,” she grins and then proceeds to tell me her high moment.

It occurred on her second day in Nashville.  After a full afternoon of unpacking in the sweltering August heat, Sarah Lou, her father, and her friend, took a break to visit some of the better-known music hot spots the city has to offer. 

“Let’s just pop into the Ryman,” Sarah Lou suggested—the home to the Grand Ole Opry from 1943 to 1974.  Hailed as the “Mother Church of Country Music”, one look at the expansive auditorium explains why: it indeed resembles a church, complete with stained glass windows filtering colored beams upon the 2600 seats below. 

“They had a recording booth in there where you could do, for 15.00, basically a glorified karaoke track,” Sarah Lou explains.  “So I did two Patsy Cline songs, and as we were leaving some guy came up to me, and he was holding a guitar, and he said, ‘I just heard you recording. Why don’t you get on stage?’  And so I sang ‘Walking After Midnight’ on the Grand Ole Opry stage on the second day I lived in Nashville.”

I shake my head.

“Sometimes life just conspires on your behalf.”

“Right.  And to have my dad there, you know?  It was a really good sign,” she smiles, “that I had made the right move.”

Building a Writing Community One Group at a Time

Katie Venit

By Katie Venit

In middle school I joined my first writing group when Liz T. found a blank composition book.

We passed it around, each adding to the rambling story filled with grudges and crushes. What a joy! To create a reality using nothing but a piece of paper and the fancy pen I “borrowed” from my mother. We left each other notes for improvement in the margins, and it felt so gratifying to know that someone else felt invested in my writing. 

The wonderment lingered when I worked on my high school and college newspapers and interned one summer at a magazine where I wrote my first piece for pay. After graduating with an English major, journalism minor, I worked for a business magazine in Madison and later freelanced. As my clip pile grew, however, the feedback diminished, until finally it was limited to a check in the mail, a call back to write another piece. 

I craved improvement, I wanted the camaraderie of Liz’s writing group, but to seek feedback opened myself up to all kinds of vulnerability with which I was intensely uncomfortable. I did not fear writing or having people read my words; I feared their opinions. 

Then there is that other hurdle: the debilitation of exhaustion. Honestly, I haven’t written much at all lately, thanks to the original endurance sport: early motherhood. Writing after lights out has been exactly as enticing as writing after running a marathon. Passing out at 8:30 with a cup of tea and uneaten Halloween candy on my chest? Definitely doable. Forming coherent sentences? I’d just as soon climb Mt. Vesuvius. However, motherhood also affords long periods of drudgery, which my mind has always filled with scattered outlines or description. With tentative opening sentences. With words, always with words.

Just recently, my children have grown older, as they do, and my neglected urge to write has begun poking its nose under my hand, much like my dog (also neglected). I can no longer ignore it in favor of the couch. I can no longer hold those words only in my head; they have to spill onto the page for my own sanity. If I have to write, I reasoned, I want it to be good. But I had no one to tell me when it sucks. I decided I need critique and feedback. But how?

Here’s a peek at my thought process: Liz started my first writing group. I needed Liz. Liz lives in Virginia. I would have to start my own group. I would have to be Liz. Gulp.

As luck would have it, I had a few female friends who might be interested. Still, fear made me pause. Could I keep the experience convivial, as Liz had? Could I make myself vulnerable to their opinions, and did I have the time and energy to organize a group? Not likely. Still, I thought about it. And matched socks. And thought about it. And rescued lost toys.

And one day I took a breath and messaged those friends, some of which wrote for publication often, others have not been published yet  Some were into memoir; others nonfiction; others novels. They were all game, and we met within a week.

We set the group’s structure. Bucking all advice to the contrary, we decided would meet occasionally--nay, irregularly--and hold each other to zero accountability. For all of us, writing had to wait until other priorities were met. Sharing a piece at a meeting would be entirely optional. Alcohol would also be an optional, but welcome, augmentation. The only mandatory element was supporting each other to meet our goals. One of us wanted to just finish her novel already. Another wanted to apply to a Chippewa Valley Writer’s Guild residency this summer (and talked two others into applying as well). These goals, for all their ambition, seemed possible now that we weren’t on our own.

As I wrote this very article to workshop at our next meeting, I chose my wording more carefully than I would have otherwise, knowing the ladies would give me feedback. I looked suspiciously at every long sentence and passive verb. I tinkered with my opening and delved into the thesaurus to unearth more interesting verbs. And when I finally, nervously, asked for critique, the experience was nothing like I feared. My friends had insightful opinions, but even critical comments were delivered with such amity that nothing stung. I think my article is better for having been workshopped, but what do you think? Read the original here

We found the following set of questions to be helpful: 1) what were some words and phrases that stuck with you (for whatever reason)? 2) how did this piece make you feel? 3) what interfered with your enjoyment of the piece (Where did you need more information, where is the pace off, what's confusing, etc)? and 4) where are you curious to know more?

We decided to post our group, Women Who Write, on the Chippewa Valley Writer’s Guide directory. Even though our group is closed, listing it helps the guild help us by illustrating the diversity of writers in the area. Perhaps, by example, we could help other writers open themselves up to be vulnerable and share their writing with a critique group. That listing may be the one piece of accountability we allow ourselves, the one external force of pressure that keeps us at our drafts at the edges of the day when we would otherwise be sacked out on the couch, spilling cold chamomile on our slumbering chests. We are official; now we have to live up to it. 

Free time and spare energy with which to write remain elusive, but I no longer fear opinions on my work. I cleared that particular hurdle, and I’m a better writer for it. 

Scribble (5-24-16): “Audio Inspiration”

Each month we’ll offer a low-stakes, writing prompt applicable to all genres.  This month, enjoy “Audio Inspiration ”—a prompt to help us celebrate this wondrous season. Upon completing the prompt, send your piece (500 words or less please) to chippewavalleywritersguild@gmail.com for potential publication in next month’s newsletter!

Without further adieu, “Audio Inspiration” ...

Take a moment to close your eyes and listen: at the coffee shop, at the library, at the grocery store, in your home, your backyard, anywhere.  What do you hear?  Bits of conversation?  Bird song?  Elevator music?  Crickets?  Allow yourself to be inspired by the sounds that surround you.  Take what you hear and turn the sounds into the basis for a scene, or an image in a poem. 

Write hard, then send your work our way!


Congratulations to our April Scribble winner, Alex Tronson!  Check out his piece:

Cold Snap in Nevada

By Alex Tronson

I got off the plane around 11:00 P.M. and it was quiet as I crossed through the terminal toward baggage claim. The couple I’d been sitting next to, patchy skin and yellow teeth, had told me they’d come to Vegas to get married. I told them I didn’t realize people actually did that and then they refused to say anything more. I knew they were nuts from the way they asked the flight attendant for ice cubes to put in their coffee. When I got outside, waiting in line for a shuttle, the air was hot and thick. Spring had come, but these people, in this ridiculous neon desert, they hadn’t even noticed.

The shift of seasons is undeniably a Midwestern obsession. Weather patterns and temperatures transition radically in the guts of America. And once it gets just above freezing, students break out into salmon-colored cargo shorts. The polo tees and bright, ugly, tank-tops. People assume cheery personas, nice weather we’re having! They smile and wave to complete strangers. Kindness drips from every tanning pore and drivers curse quietly, passing cyclists, instead of shouting in their faces.

Last year, I missed the transition into Spring, because a few days after my twenty-first birthday I jumped onto a plane out of Minneapolis for Las Vegas, an overnight stop on my way up through the armpit of California. Winter in the Chippewa Valley had lasted too long, sporadically coughing up snow in March, even April.

Later, after checking into the Best Western on Paradise Road, I carried myself down the street and stumbled toward a Cantina built into a strip mall. There were plastic palm trees covering the entrance and a few great, blue surfboards hanging on the walls. I sat down at a table in the far corner, away from the regulars. A sign above me said: Happy Hour, Daily—3am to 5am.

The waitress was decked out in beach garb, one of those dressy, long overshirts you might layer on top of a swimsuit. She was asking, “What can I get you?”

I looked at the clock. It was almost 1:30A.M. so I ordered a beer. The waitress nodded and disappeared behind the heads at the bar.

A few minutes later she returned and set the drinks down at the table, she was saying “Your not from around here, are you?”

“Not even close,” I said. “I’m from the Midwest. Where they’ve got seasons.”

“We’ve got seasons, too,” she said. “We just don’t notice it as much.”

“Wouldn’t you like to?” I asked.

“Everyone gets so depressed and angry in the Winter.”

“But they’re nice again in the Spring.”

“I’d rather be here,” she said. “We fly our true colors year-round.”

I said, “So you’re bitter and miserable all the time?”

“At least we’re consistent,” she said, and slipped away.

I got up,  left a few bills on the table and wandered out into the dry air, listening to the whispers of desert brush and the dirt, wondering if maybe we’d spent so much time clearing the front walk, the driveway, that we’ve forgotten what we’d left, buried in the mound on the side of the road.

Craft Talk Rewind: “Patience and Perspective” as told by Nickolas Butler

In April, Nickolas Butler gave a standing-room-only Craft Talk at the Local Store. His message: the impact of patience and perspective on our writing. In addition, Butler, the award-winning author of Shotgun Lovesongs and Beneath the Bonfire: stories, discussed his latest project一 a novel that draws on a heart wrenching situation he experienced 17 years ago when he was a teenager. 

Butler said that while he could have written about the subject as a teenager, it would have been raw and relatively narrow-minded. Now, 17 years after the fact, he’s had enough experiences to gain multiple perspectives on the situation. He told us that as writers it’s up to us to see situations from different angles and perspectives in order to write a great piece. This could mean spending time researching or talking to other people about a topic. 

More often than not, perspective comes with time, and time requires patience. 

In an era when instant gratification is king (see: Facebook likes or a YouTube video that’s gone “viral”), there’s also a desire to have work published instantly. This makes patience a virtue we want to ignore. The payoff for having patience (and perspective!) with your work, however, will be even more rewarding than a quick submission. 

What should you do in the meantime while you’re being patient and gaining perspective?

Read. Butler told us that you can’t be a good, solid writer without reading a lot. Not only will you have a better sense of writing and storytelling, but reading different genres like fiction, poetry, essays, and more will help give you the perspective you’re trying to gain. Butler also stressed the importance of reading in order to increase creativity, as well as looking for the creativity in everyday things and conversations. 

We’re grateful that Butler gave us such an honest and inspiring talk, and we’re already looking forward to our next season of Craft Talks starting up in fall of 2016. Make sure to check back to our website so you don’t miss any upcoming Chippewa Valley Writers Guild events! Have an inspired and inspiring summer!

Michael Perry on Saying Yes, Climbing Mountains, and Literary Solitaire

Michael Perry at the L.E. Phillips Memorial Public Library (May 7, 2016)

Michael Perry at the L.E. Phillips Memorial Public Library (May 7, 2016)

By Ken Szymanski

Mike Perry’s level of success can’t be reached by listening to a speech. Still, the L.E. Phillips Memorial Public Library basement was packed with aspiring writers for his May 7 keynote address for the Chippewa Valley Writer's Guild, all us hoping to catch some tips that might provide the elusive secret. 

Anyone who’s reading this knows the Mike Perry story. His success has been a blend of natural born talent and farm boy work ethic, combined with the ability to work a crowd on a book tour stops. Plus, his books often cover the right topics at the right times. Simple, right? Hardly. But he did reveal a simple word important to aspiring writers.

Perry said that being a successful freelance writer starts with saying yes. When agent called and asked if he’d be willing to climb up Mount Rainier for a story, he faked a confident “Yes.” And saying yes over and over has led to opportunities that provide a more exciting angle to writing than simply sitting at the keyboard. “Writing is a means to adventure,” he said, showing slides of mountain top views.

Once on assignments, he stressed the importance of observation (“You have to be the five senses for the reader”) and veracity (it wouldn’t be a Perry if he didn’t send some of us to the dictionary at least once). Nonfiction writers depend on the reader’s trust. It cannot be broken. 

One audience member asked how to deal with having so many job-related writing obligations, that she had little time left to do the writing she really wants to do. 

While writers dream of having months to devote to a project, Perry said that can be actually be counter-productive. Put in that situation, writers can auger down rather than gain traction. Conversely, the brain can spark a lot of ideas while doing other things. Tasks such as chores, mundane writing assignments, firefighting calls, etc. can give the brain a needed break or stimulus for the creative project. Sounds like part of the trick, for busy people, is to learn how to work on your writing when you’re not working on your writing. 

But for those who like to talk about how writing is such tough work, Perry offered some relief. His brother is a logger up north. If writing is so hard, Perry said, try logging with him. “I’m sure we could arrange a sabbatical for ya,” he said, drawing a good laugh from the crowd.  

That’s classic Perry. He loves talking about the craft of writing, but he never gets mystical. He mentioned that his muse is the guy at the bank who holds his mortgage. He writes to put food on the table for his family. It’s simply about observing, writing down observations, typing them up, printing them, cutting up those observations and laying scraps all over giant tables, and finding connections. Simple, right?

Sometimes it’s what Perry called “word jazz” and other times, he said, “It’s like a desperate game of literary solitaire.” 

Literary solitaire: that sums it up the writing process as well as anything. It can be frustrating, success can be elusive, but if you stay up late enough and play long enough, eventually you’ll win one. 


Check out some photos from Perry's keynotE

A Collaborative Poem (Courtesy of the Chippewa ValleyWriters Guild)

As folks waited for our Michael Perry Keynote Address (Saturday, May 7) to begin, we asked them to type a few lines on an old Smith-Corona typewriter, contributing to a collaborative poem. Please—enjoy the fruits of our labor!

On the Occasion of a Michael Perry Reading at the Library

Sunny Eau Claire Saturday, first signs of summer
Behold the child, by nature’s kindly law
The hosts offered cookies and ice cream; a bummer
But love for words is not a character flaw
But merely method of breath

The red sports car drives over by the library—LOVE!
The air is fresh, the books plentiful…perfect
Hugs between friends and new acquaintances made
Loving memories of the past to be resurrect
Lighting the literary flame
Hazy smoke from far away
Mingles in the breeze
Hope sparkling in the trees; we are one
The photo booth makes everyone smile

LAST CALL: Cirenaica Residencies

UW-Eau Claire emeritus professor and former Wisconsin poet laureate Max Garland

UW-Eau Claire emeritus professor and former Wisconsin poet laureate Max Garland

Throughout the  summer of 2016, Cirenaica will host six, 3-day writing residencies.  Though our June residencies have filled, we still have a few spots left for Wisconsin poet laureate Kimberly Blaeser’s poetry residency and John Hildebrand’s nonfiction residency and Erika Janik's 'writing for radio' residency.

The Nuts and Bolts

Each residency will host a maximum of 10 writers.  Writers will be joined by a writer-in-residence, who will oversee workshops and conferences, as well as the occasional special guests, who will take part in evening activities and readings.

When you sign-up for a residency at Cirenaica, you know you’re going to learn from the best. Our residencies seek to balance creation with instruction, providing the flexibility and structure to ensure that all writers of all backgrounds can thrive.  

It's like your favorite class and your summer camp all rolled into one!

Spend your mornings writing in one of our many pristine, shared work spaces, then dedicate your afternoons to workshops, lectures and conferences with our writer-in-residence.  In the evenings, unwind with fellowship and networking around the campfire.  In addition, enjoy guest visits from local writers and prepare for your residency’s public reading, scheduled for the final night of each session.  

But Is It for Me?

Whether you’ve been writing for decades or days, Cirenaica has a place for you! The Chippewa Valley Writers Guild invites you to submit an application and a writing sample for consideration. It’s our mission to support and inspire writers of all levels, so don’t hesitate to put yourself in the running to spend a few days writing with us!

Widening the World (and Learning New Words Along the Way)

By Katie Allan

Growing up in a snow globe town makes you appreciate quaint neighborhoods, countryside, the hundred-or-so people who make up your world, and…well, snow.

And plenty of other things. It takes roughly one radio song to drive the length of my Wisconsin hometown. If you were passing through town during the 90s, and happened to glance up through a smudgy school bus window, you might’ve glimpsed a day-dreamy kid with grass-hopper legs, a kitten shirt, and bangs long enough to tickle her eyelids. She’d have been reading a library book. 

There was something special about that 45-minute commute to school twice a day, where my imagination sucked up stories like superfood. Because cute as snow globe towns are, sooner or later you start flicking pine cones at the glass out of curiosity. You learn about earth on the other side of rural Dairyland. I blame books, mostly. A few teachers. And definitely my parents. 

But just knowing about faraway places isn’t enough. You have to see something out there that’s worth leaving home for. Some folks see mountains calling, others see cities, careers, Beyoncé, the ocean, education, real Chinese food, kinder climates…I don’t know what I first saw. 

But a different window comes to mind, marginally less-smudgy, and 35,000 above the ground. I was nineteen and watching the rivers and village-speckled mountains shrink out of sight as I left Guatemala behind. I had a pile of hand-drawn pictures and cards in my lap; parting tokens from the girls of a Mayan village school.  I was wondering how a foreign country could feel so much like home after fourteen days, and if that was normal. 

Since that initial glimpse, I’ve returned four times to Guatemala. I’ve lived with a Guatemalan family and worked with a nonprofit called Mission Impact for nearly two years. I worked from the communication office, the Mayan girl’s school in a mountain town, and translated in the field for teams. I also spent five months in a training program called GoInternational.tv in Ecuador. There are a lot of stories I now carry around, wedged in my mind. 

But since returning to the U.S. a few months ago, I still haven’t figured out how to translate them all into writing; I’m lacking words. But a miraculous thing about learning a new language is you acquire new words. So I’ve come across a couple in Spanish (*Spain-Spanish, not Guatemalan-Spanish), and one in Greek that echo things I encountered while living in Central and South America.

*Querencia – (n.) a place from which one’s strength is drawn, where one feels at home, the place where you are your most authentic self (Spanish). [kɛˈrɛnsɪə].

*Sobremesa – (n.) The time spent around the table after lunch or dinner, talking to the people you shared the meal with; time to digest and savor both food and friendship (Spanish) [sO-bRe-‘mA-sa].

*Convivencia – (n.) lit. “living together”, in the sense of living or working closely with other people with whom you share feelings, desires, or common purpose (Spanish) [con-vi-‘ven-sE-a].

*Meraki (μεράκι) – (n.) The soul, creativity, or love put into something; the essence of yourself that is put into your work (Greek) [mA-‘rak-E].

****All words and definitions come from the blog Other Wordly compiled by an awesome gal named Yee-Lum. Check it out at http://other-wordly.tumblr.com/ 

These aren’t words I’d use in a sentence. But just knowing they exist and that someone else has felt them before is somehow amazing. 

I’m no longer in my small Wisconsin town, but in Seattle. It’s funny how in a way each city seems like a snow globe (size and snow variable); they’re unique, condensed collections of people, landscape, history and evolving culture. Sometimes the real challenge is to seek out adventure right where we are – to find wonder and humor and purpose in the places we live and work. 

But if you’ve never left the place you were born, and you’re still captivated by what could be on the other side of the glass, it could be time to seek new worlds elsewhere. To stand from a different vantage point and look back at the glass sphere of home. Like the first men on the moon looking back at the blue globe of earth, maybe you’ll find it all the more beautiful from afar. Or maybe you’ll choose to make your home somewhere new. 

Certain goldfish grow in accordance to how big their bowl is. I imagine it would be uncomfortable otherwise; they wouldn’t fit. We have to grow, learn and adapt in order to dive into a new environment where we don’t know the culture, language, systems, and rules of the kingdom.

But there are also new flavors and scents and sights and wonders. Blurry, nameless faces sharpen into friends, and there’s a lot of joking around, but also moments when you see someone, really see them, and realize they see you too. And one day, all that background noise and gibberish around you begins to sound like words. 

Wisconsin Poet’s Calendar Discount

There are many benefits of being a member of a writers group—support, feedback, camaraderie, etc.  Now, thanks to the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets, we’ve got one more!

Contact Sandra Lindow to receive $5.00 off the 2016 and 2017 Wisconsin Poets’ Calendar.  The discounted rate for the 2016 calendar is 5.00; the discounted rate for 2017 is a mere $10.00.

To receive this discount, please contact Sandra at 715-309-2084 or at lindowleaf@gmail.com.

Save the Date: Join us for Michael Perry’s Keynote Address!

By Erin Stevens

The Chippewa Valley Writers Guild is off to a rousing start! We’re thrilled by the support we’ve received from our community, as evidenced by our standing-room-only Craft Talks, our dozens of applications for Cirenaica, and most exciting of all, the many brave writers who took to the mic at our very first Open Read. We’re inspired by you, and we hope our programs might return the favor.

Though it seems we just got started, our first season of Craft Talks is coming to a close. (Don’t worry, next season will begin lickety split in September.)  But if September is too far away, never fear, we still have some exciting events coming up. Mark your calendars for Saturday, May 7th, 2016 at 2 p.m. because the Chippewa Valley’s very own Michael Perry will be giving a keynote address at the L.E. Phillips Memorial Public Library’s Eau Claire room. 

Yes, you read that right. A New York Times best-selling author, humorist and radio show host, Perry will discuss the keyboard-level realities of balancing writing for a living with writing for meaning. Perry is the author of The Jesus Cow, Population 485, Truck: A Love Story, Coop and many more. This event is free and open to all writers, readers and lovers of literature in the Chippewa Valley and beyond. Bring yourself, your friends, your family members, and/or your roommates. 

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better than this… brace yourself! At 1 p.m. (prior to Perry’s keynote address), come hang out with the Chippewa Valley Writers Guild on the library’s front lawn! This is a perfect way to meet and engage with fellow writers and literature lovers, and to learn more about the Guild. We’ll also have swag, music, refreshments, ice cream from 9 Degrees, giveaways, collaborative art opportunities, and more! Stop on by and get to know the writers in your neighborhood!

For more information, visit the Chippewa Valley Writers Guild website, or email us at chippewavalleywritersguild@gmail.com

DEADLINE EXTENDED: Summer 2016 Residencies

Cirenaica is an artist residency nestled on 43 acres of hills, farmland, and forest in the quaint village of Fall Creek, Wisconsin.

Cirenaica is an artist residency nestled on 43 acres of hills, farmland, and forest in the quaint village of Fall Creek, Wisconsin.

We've EXTENDED THE DEADLINE for summer writing residencies at Cirenaica to May 1! So put the finishing touches on your application and come out for an incredible creative experience in the wilds of Wisconsin! Can't wait to see you there!

Important Info

➜ Residency at Cirenaica
➜ 2016 Summer Residencies

 

Spotlight: Drs. Audrey Fessler and Jeff Vahlbusch

Jeff Vahlbusch and Audrey Fessler

Jeff Vahlbusch and Audrey Fessler

By B.J. Hollars

No entry-level creative writing classroom is complete without a reading of Billy Collins’ “Introduction to Poetry”, a poem that pleads with students to simply let poems be.  

Admittedly, it’s a task easier said than done, especially when so much of students’ educational lives now involves synthesis, analysis and deconstructing a thing into its simplest parts.  By poem’s end, the resigned narrator laments that despite his pleas, readers will likely still tend to beat poems “with a hose / to find out what it really means.” 

Yet what happens when we allow meaning to take a back seat to musicality?

For a decade now, Drs. Audrey Fessler and Jeff Vahlbusch have been doing just that, organizing the International Poetry Reading—a one evening event each spring dedicated to encouraging community members to recite poems in languages from across the world.  And that’s the beauty of the event: a chance to appreciate the sound of diverse languages, as well as to honor the cultures of the people who speak them.  

The impetus for the International Poetry Reading began long ago, during Jeff and Audrey’s time as junior faculty members at Washington College in Chestertown, Maryland.  

“It was a small college, it was a small event, and it lasted for an hour, maybe an hour and a half, “Jeff remembers.  “Perhaps 20 people read in five or six or seven languages.  We loved it, we thought it was magical.”

“And then we arrived here at UW-Eau Claire,” Audrey continues, “and thought, ‘This would be a wonderful kind of gift and tradition perhaps we could institute here.”   

In 2006, Jeff and Audrey organized the very first International Poetry Reading here in Eau Claire.  They kept expectations low, hoping for five or six languages to be represented.  They were shocked to find the reality far exceeded their expectation: no fewer than 30 languages were represented. 

“We were blown away,” Audrey says.  “We just barely made it into our little two hour allocation of time."

They not only exceeded their expectation in terms of participants, but in terms of audience members as well, so much so that folding doors were soon spread wide to make room for overflow rooms. 

“Our startlement and joy at the initial community response has kept us motivated for a long time to continue,” Audrey notes.

“Have there been any moments that really stand out in your mind?” I ask.  “After all the poems you’ve heard and all the languages, what really resonates with you two?”

“The ones that have hit home for me, often, are when you expect someone to read and they sing,” Jeff says.  “Where you expect someone to read and they chant.”

He goes on to describe an instance in which a woman from Cambodia leaned into the microphone, informing the audience that in her country they don’t read poems, they sing them.

“And she stepped back from the microphone and in a crystal clear, little but incredibly impressive voice she sang for four minutes,” Jeff says, his eyes glossing over in memory, “and it was evocative, amazing, and wonderful.  And it brought down the house.”  

Audrey adds that for her, the most memorable moment involved being “plunged into silence.”  

“At this event people listen with all their might because they’re hearing languages they’ve never had the opportunity to hear before,” she explains.  “They’re hearing sounds that they might not have known the human voice was capable of making.”

After 45 minutes or so of intense listening, all sounds were momentarily silenced as a reader shared a poem in American Sign Language.

 “Suddenly there was nothing there for most audience members’ ears,” Audrey explains, “but there was this beautiful body in motion of poetry that had so much eloquence and grace and perfect intelligibility to audience members…” 

Of course, moments such as these don’t just happen; they require lots of work.  And for the past decade, Jeff and Audrey have dedicated hundreds of hours each year to their effort.  There are a range of duties to be fulfilled, though perhaps most complicated of all is creating a booklet which allows audience members to read each poem both in its original language as well as translated into English. 

“There’s an awful lot of work to do in just putting together the book,” Vahlbusch says, “…formatting all of these different scripts and languages—some of which our computers can’t handle—is a very, very exciting kind of work.”  

“So how has the International Poetry Reading contributed to the Chippewa Valley?” I ask.

“One thing we have thought for years,” Jeff explains, “is that this is an event in which we in the Chippewa Valley get to see what an amazingly diverse place we actually are, and how many different people’s languages and traditions, ethnicities and races, come together in this small spot in Wisconsin to live together.”

He’s right, and were it not for events such as this, perhaps we’d never stop to notice the depth and range of our community.  

Art often finds a way to bring people together, I think, and in this instance, the collision of poetry and culture seems to do just that, as well as instilling a deeper affection and appreciation for the place that we call home.       

I’d hate to lose such an event, and when I ask Audrey and Jeff if it’s really over, Audrey says, “We would like it not to be the end. It has certainly been a great labor of love for us both.”  

She goes on to say she’s hopeful that someone else might be willing to carry it on for a while.

“Free training,” Jeff says with a smile.

“And a ton of gratitude,” Audrey adds.  

This year, the tenth International Poetry Festival will be from 7:00-9:00p.m. on Wednesday, May 4 in the Ojibwe Grand Ballroom in the Davies Center on the UW-Eau Claire campus.

If it is, indeed, the last chance we have to come together in this way, be sure to clean out your ears, listen carefully, and savor as much as you can.

***

Music courtesy of Lulzacruza

Scribble (4-25-16): “Summer Strikes”

Each month we’ll offer a low-stakes, writing prompt applicable to all genres.   This month, enjoy “Summer Strikes”—a prompt meant to help us celebrate this wondrous season. Upon completing the prompt, send your piece (500 words or less please) to chippewavalleywritersguild@gmail.com for potential publication in next month’s newsletter!

Without further adieu, “Summer Strikes” ...

What are your most tangible memories of the first night of summer?  How did you spend that first night as a child, a teenager, a young adult, an adult (we could go on…).  Spend five minutes recording all your sensory details of that night, then another five minutes recounting an encounter that occurred.  Revive, revise, revise, and once you’ve crafted something you’re proud of, send it our way!   

Craft Talk Rewind: Patti See’s “Writing Where You Live: Making the Most of What You Have”

Patti See

Patti See

By B.J. Hollars

Couldn’t make it out to Patti See’s fantastic craft talk?  Not too worry!  We’re here to offer you a few of the highlights.

Patti’s craft talk covered the idea of writing about place, which for her, means writing about Lake Hallie, Wisconsin. Though as a Chippewa Falls native, Patti’s personal story starts there.  She began her talk by describing her childhood spent in the family tavern. “Kids drank orange crush and played games,” she recalled, adding also that the tavern was the site where more than a few stories were swapped and spun.  This upbringing, coupled with her mother’s letter writing and her father’s storytelling prowess, created the conditions for her own future as a writer. 

Patti began her writing career by composing thinly veiled fictional stories, though in the midst of her mother’s prolonged battle with Alzheimer’s, she found herself blogging about her caregiving experience—an experience that resonated with readers throughout the world.

While all genres and subjects can prove difficult for a writer, writing about where one lives is particularly challenging, Patti explained, “because it means those who live near you may read what you write.”  And so, Patti knows to negotiate these relationships carefully, often making people aware of their potential appearance in a story.  

In a small town like Lake Hallie, she explained, word often travels as fast as the “bark patrol” from 101 Dalmatians; as such, it’s best if folks know who the writer is.  And as Patti has proved, she always has her pen at the ready.

Click here to listen to Patti read her work on Wisconsin Public Radio’s “Wisconsin Life.”

Fast Forward: Nickolas Butler’s “Brass Tacks & Before Cirenaica”

Nickolas Butler

Nickolas Butler

Next up on our craft talk series is the great Nickolas Butler!  Mark those calendars for April 28 at 7:00p.m. in The Local Store Gallery, where you’ll hear Nick provide an insightful and candid discussion on the everyday work of being a writer.  (As I’m sure we’ll all learn, it ain’t as easy as Nick makes it look.)  In addition, Nick will also get folks fired up for his summer writing residency this summer at Cirenaica.  A few spots still remain!  Check out the details on Nick’s residency here, and more on all our residencies here.    

And while we have you, might we just take a moment to brag a bit about one of Eau Claire’s favorite sons?  You know him best for Shotgun Lovesongs and Beneath the Bonfires, but do you know just how much hardware the guy’s won for his efforts?  From France's prestigious PAGE Prix America award, to the 2015 Wisconsin Library Association Literary Award, Nick’s accolades have come from the world over.  And to whet your pallet for what’s coming next, stay tuned for a forthcoming featured spotlight with Nick Butler coming your way this summer! 

On the Achievement of My 100th Literary Journal Rejection

By Eric Rasmussen

In 1955, a struggling actor in Los Angeles got a job driving a cab.

This allowed him to work at night, and still go out on auditions during the day. Cab drivers in Hollywood must meet all sorts of famous and influential people, and one afternoon this particular cabbie picked up a fare who topped all others – John F. Kennedy. Kennedy maintained his masterful political charm even from the backseat of the car. The then-Senator peppered the driver with questions about his family and his acting prospects, about their shared hometown of Boston and Adlai Stevenson's prospects for winning the Democratic presidential nomination.

"Unfortunately," as if publishing is decided by a coin flip

"Unfortunately," as if publishing is decided by a coin flip

I can guess what that driver felt, because I've felt it, too. He strove for something difficult, something that many of his friends and relatives probably dismissed as an impossibility. Acting? What a cliché. What a ridiculous endeavor. Do you know how many people are trying to become actors? There's no money in acting. When one struggles to achieve something like becoming an actor, or, in my case, a writer, every experience comes to be viewed through that lens. It morphs into a sort of obsession. Every person is someone new to discuss my writing with, every new memory transforms into potential subject matter for a story or essay. I imagine that driver couldn't help but question if his encounter with JFK meant something, if, finally and at long last, his moment had arrived. Maybe that connection would finally lead to something. Who knows how, but maybe that was the turning point.

At some point during the ride, Kennedy offered this thought to the driver. "Lots of competition in your business, just like in mine. Just remember there's always room for one more good one."

Thanks, editors, for looking at my stories

Thanks, editors, for looking at my stories

As it turns out, the driver was a "good one," and his business made room for him. Leonard Nimoy acted in small parts and B-movies for another nine years after that cab ride until the pilot episode of Star Trek in 1964.

Today, I had an experience that feels important. I didn't receive sage advice from a beloved politician or anything quite so dramatic. In my email, I found another rejection from a literary journal, which happens several times a week. But this one is my 100th. If all successful writers face mountains of rejection, then I am inching closer to being a successful writer. Stephen King had his infamous nail full of rejection letters. All the stories I've read about winning query letters and offer of representation phone calls feature tons of "Dear author, Unfortunately..." emails. All those people felt everything I keep feeling. Every rejection is another tiny devastation that forces the question, "What the hell am I doing?"

He probably felt inadequate, too, not just because of that haircut

He probably felt inadequate, too, not just because of that haircut

But this one, I will celebrate. Number 99 stung terribly, and so will number 101. But number 100 is a milestone. I may not be good enough yet, but I am working, desperately, hopefully, tirelessly. Soon they will have no choice but to make me some room.

This piece originally appeared on theotherericrasmussen.blogspot.com, where Eric discusses life in Wisconsin and his pursuit of publishing fiction, and compiles various creative pieces. The collection is mostly humorous, often on purpose.