Reflections on Guyanese Writers' Virtual Retreat - 2020 by Cosmata Lindie

 

Monkey pots

Living in a virtual world– the new normal.
When fellow writer Daryll Goodchild announced, via a Facebook writers’ group, that he wanted to organize a virtual retreat for interested Guyanese writers, I raised my (virtual) hand right away.  

Thanks to Covid 19, and a year of learning to live in the midst of a deadly global pandemic, a large chunk of everyday life has shifted to a virtual dimension.  It’s a little surreal, we really have created these online replicas of the real world; worlds within the world, which we now occupy so comfortably and naturally.  

What is actually surprising, at least to me, was how easily we have adapted to this new norm.  We slipped from the physical to the virtual and found it ready and functional.  Easier even, in some ways, to navigate than the physical one.

So Daryll could organize a retreat without having to leave his home, without having to think about where to hold it or worrying about such things as catering for snacks.  Zoom, Skype, and other online meeting platforms, are easy to download on any device.  And resources are readily available online.  

Building bridges in a virtual world.
I didn’t know what to expect from a writers’ retreat, but I had been involved in various writing programmes for most of the year so far, and wanted to keep the momentum going.  Not only would this be an opportunity to further immerse myself in writing related activities, but it would provide an opportunity to meet more of my fellow Guyanese writers face to face.  Well, via electronic screens, of course.

I had already gotten to know Daryll, and Nikita Blair, through a Commonwealth Writers virtual mentoring programme earlier this year.  Together, we had formed a WhatsApp group to share our experiences, and offer support if needed, during the course of the programme.  

Most of the other writers in the Facebook group I only knew by their names and profile photos.  The only one I had actually met in person was Vidyaratha Kissoon – blogger and creative non-fiction writer.  He had been a fellow participant at a Commonwealth Writers short story workshop, held in Berbice in February this year. Before Covid 19 changed how activities are held.

A virtual retreat sounded like an excellent way to keep the writing flow going, and meet other writers.  So, yes, I was definitely on board with Daryll’s idea.  As group leader and main organiser, he took on the responsibility preparing the agenda and sourcing whatever materials would be needed.  Our job was to commit to participating in the discussions and various activities that he selected for each session.  

We agreed on the time – 5:00 p.m. every Sunday afternoon, and duration – September 27th to October 25th 2020.  Perfect.

September 27th – I don’t have a writing process…and notes on publishing.
About five of us logged on for this first session.  As part of the introductions, we were asked to describe our individual writing process.  I began by saying that I didn’t have a process.  Only to discover that the more I tried to explain my non-existent process, the more it became obvious that I actually did have one.  Judging from the amused looks, it was evident that I had managed to convince everyone that my writing process was very much there. Who knew?   

This session was all about publishing.  As writers, we do love reading what we write, but even more, we want others to read, and if possible, love what we write.   Mainly, we discussed the benefits of self-publishing.  Many new writers choose this route because it can be very difficult to get a mainstream publishing house’s attention.  I came away with a much better understanding of this avenue of publishing.  It’s good to know that options are available.

October 4th - Baring our souls.  Or a fraction of our souls.
We had been asked to provide a short excerpt (300 words max) and be prepared to offer and accept critiques of our individual pieces.  And we really mined this session.  There was prose and there was poetry.  In discussing the merits of each piece, we found so much to talk about that we ran out of time.  Too late to fit in the scheduled writing sprint but no one complained.   This session was an interesting and enjoyable experience.  I really love seeing what inspires other writers and listening to them talk about their work.  People get real when talking about their passions, and how they express themselves in their work.  Our styles are as different as can be expected, our common ground is writing.

October 11th – breathing life into a creation, with words.
It had become clear that our group was going to remain small.  But that was okay, we were moving along with our programme, and I was enjoying it.  We looked at word building and character portrayal.  For this session we provided excerpts relating to characters in our stories, 500 words max this time.  I submitted the hunter from my short story, The Deer’s Tale.  Some of our characters had nothing to hide, some cloaked their identities.   This was another great session.  Good interaction, great feedback.

October 18, 2020 – can you hear us now?
This session was centred on us, as writers.  How do we define our writing voice?  What themes do we focus on in our writing? What do we want our readers to hear through our characters’ voices?  This was very much an open exploration geared at helping us to discover and define ourselves by identifying our writing voices.  I think we heard each other.

October 25, 2020 – lend us your ears.  
The grand finale!  Special appearances by no less than Ms. Emma D’Costa – Senior Programme Officer with the Commonwealth Foundation and one of the main organisers of the annual Commonwealth Writers Short Story Prize, Professor Funso Aiyejina from the University of the West Indies – and an award winning writer and poet in his own right, and Dr. Karen Lord – award winning Barbadian speculative fiction writer (and my mentor in the programme earlier this year).

That they had all agreed to join us for the last session was a definite honour.  We were expected to select and present a piece of our writing that would, hopefully, impress upon our esteemed literary guests that we were serious about this writing thing.

Catching up over Covid 19.
I was there early.  Then, Professor Funso logged on, followed shortly by Karen and Emma.  It did not seem welcoming to greet our special invitees with blank screens, so I had turned on both my camera and microphone as soon as the first guest joined in.  We made small talk while waiting for the others, and, naturally, the talk centred on Covid.  “How are things in your country?  How are you coping over there?”  Trinidad is still very cautious about lifting restrictions and crowds are kept to a minimum.  Barbados is managing their cases extremely well, with strict measures firmly in place.  Britain is not doing so well and cases are climbing.  Guyana can relate to Britain.  

I honestly think Covid has become the new weather in casual conversation.  It is the one thing every single one of us can relate to on an equal level and talk about with no fear of being misunderstood.  

No pressure at all; but here’s a teeny reminder, you have a big responsibility.
Just before the readings began, Daryll reminded us that we would not only be representing ourselves in our presentations, we were also representing all Guyanese writers.  And he would be recording us for promotional purposes.  That sure settled the old nerves, thank you Daryll!

Having frightened us nicely, Daryll went first.  Like a good leader, he set the tone for the rest of us.  Gabrielle was next.  Listening to her, I realised how much I like hearing her read her work.  She reads with the controlled passion of a performance artist, infusing the narrative with life.  I was next.  I had chosen an excerpt from another of my short stories, The Deer Horn Wife.  As I usually do when I read for an audience, I focused only on the words, avoiding all eye contact until the very end.

This last session was awesome!  I really enjoyed it.  Too much it seems, because GPL-Berbice shut me down in the middle of Eon’s reading.  He was also experiencing some technical difficulties at his end, though he got his chance when the system stabilised.  When the electricity came back at my end, and I was able to rejoin the group, I saw that had missed two full readings.  But since we were recorded, I hope to be able to see those eventually.

All in all, a very satisfying wrap up to the retreat.  

About that monkey pot.
I think I owe my colleagues an explanation for my reaction to the object that Professor Funso held up to the camera just before we started reading.  Four persons present there knew what it was, and how he came by it.  So this is for the benefit of those who were wondering.  It is a monkey pot, and it came from the interior of the Berbice River.

During the short story workshop in February, the Professor had asked each of us to bring an item.  Something of value to us, but that we would not mind leaving behind.  I brought the monkey pot.  It had value to me because it reminds me of my roots, and had been sent all the way to New Amsterdam by my brother.  But I didn’t mind parting with it because I have three others that came from the same place.    

The monkey pot had elicited a lot of curiosity at the workshop, since most people had never seen one before.  At the end of the programme, Professor Funso retained it for himself.  As an interesting souvenir, no doubt, of his visit here.  I must say it did my heart good to hear that he keeps it on his writing desk, and I hope that every time he looks at it he remembers us, his Berbice crew. 

(This is one of a series of reflections on the first Guyanese Writers' Virtual Retreat )