Out With the Old, In With All Sorts of JazzI once had a shrink tell me I needed to step into my magnificence. Well, my friends, consider this newsletter movement in that direction. I’ve put to bed my old “One Writer’s Life” and replaced it with “Connie May Fowler’s InkBlossom News” because I’m at a point in my life in which comfort zones feel dangerous. I want to stretch, try new things, maybe fail, dust myself off, and fly. And I want you to come with me. With all the noise in today’s world, nurturing one another’s creative spirits—connection and support, not alienation and division—is more important than ever. Under the InkBlossom canopy, you’ll find virtual and in-person retreats, conferences, and workshops; video chats about books, writing, and the writing life; and conversations with your favorite authors. Some of these ventures are already blooming while others are seeds tucked into rich, dark earth. Hopefully, together, we will grow them into something worthy of our collective brilliance. Audre Lorde said, "Without Community there is no liberation." I agree with her and add: Without community we risk writing in the forlorn darkness of an echo chamber. Think of InkBlossom as a gathering of creative souls where light outpaces shadow and where our words find form and meaning. In-Person Literary ConclavesIn April, dive into your writing at an idyllic seaside getaway. Amid the surf song, you’ll write every morning and discuss your work in the afternoons with me and your fellow supportive writers. In September, join me in Mount Dora (one of Florida’s highest points—not joking—and a gorgeous lakeside setting) for a week of manuscript workshops, revisions, craft talks, and more. In October, we move west to the beautiful and literary-rich oasis of Santa Fe, New Mexico where you will write, workshop, and immerse yourself in all things literary. Our writing labs are designed to support, instruct, and inspire. While we discuss missed opportunities and areas in need of reconsideration or polish, our community avoids mean-spirited, damaging rhetoric. We are all about lifting up, not tearing down. Virtual Offerings: So many petals on this InkBlossom!Monthly three-day virtual writing retreats! Monthly special topic virtual workshops! Pop-up prompts, chats with writing buddies, and more! Don’t ForgetWriters are magicians. Our words guide lost souls home (sometimes the souls are our own). Our images resonate beyond imposed borders. Our narratives navigate the rough and glorious terrains of our wild hearts. InkBlossom is dedicated to helping writers hone their art and craft in an environment of vigorous compassion. Getting CraftyOur Patron Saint of Ascendant Prose, James Baldwin, compelled us to “Write a sentence as clean as bone.” This directive sounds simple, basic, but putting it into practice requires discipline, focus, and courage (kill those lovelies!). I believe I have rewritten the opening paragraph of my novel-in-progress, The Direction of Last Things, eight trillion times: multiple paragraphs; one long ponderous sentence, several long ponderous sentences. Word crevasses and sinkholes and impenetrable thickets. I’ve tortured myself into knots, tossing and retrieving, and tossing again words, phrases, ruminations, and digressions. Currently, I’m down to three tight sentences. Whittling the paragraph felt like a solo trek up Mount Everest. In February. But like a magical erasure, a clearing of clouds, as I ruthlessly trimmed, the book slowly emerged. Yet, still, the paragraph, and surely the book, needs more shaping. I’m not going to lie. The process scares me (Can I do it?). But it’s also exhilarating (Yes, I can!). The most confident proclamation I can make is I think I’m getting to the mountain top. I hope Saint James approves. What I’m ReadingPraisesong for The Kitchen Ghosts, by my dear friend Crystal Wilkinson, is wholly beautiful: a treasure brimming with the sacred—memories and biscuits, hauntings and hot milk cake, conjurings and greens with pot likker. This is not a cookbook. It is not a memoir. It is not a poem. It is life.
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