Today I overheard two male writers discussing their various residencies at writer’s retreats (Yaddo, The Macdowell Colony, etc). These two men were middle aged, with young children, and wives who, as they both described, stayed behind with the children while the men went away to write. As a mother who has never once been able to go to a writer’s colony, it was fascinating to hear the following exchange: ”I hate to admit it,” Writer #1 says. “It is just so nice to have every meal ready and not have to have excessive interaction with other people if I don’t want to. To be honest, it’s nice not have to think about what’s happening at Joe’s school, or what Betty is doing in ballet. It’s terrible, but once upon a time, I never would have thought I’d be happy just calling home, telling everyone I love them, and hanging up again. But now…” Writer #2 says, “I was gone so long this past year that people actually believed that Jane and I split up. I had to tell our regular server at our regular pizza place that we were, you know, still married.” ”It’s inevitable,” Writer #1 says. “My wife said she felt abandoned, that she felt that I wanted to be away. And what’s really terrible, what I just can’t say to her, is that she’s right. I want to work. I don’t want to think about all those other things that occupy a life.” ”Every writer I know,” #2 says, “Is waiting so that they can reapply to Mac Dowell.”
“I know,” #1 says. “Me too. I went last year. I’m going to go again next year. The real question I’m having right now, is whether I can do two residencies this year. That might just push things to the limit.”
“I know one writer who couldn’t keep his freelance jobs because he was outside of the city for too long.” ”I hear that some writers–those who don’t have the complications that you and I have–sublet their apartments when they go on residency so they’re, you know, actually making decent money.” ”Not possible with me,” Writer #2 says.
“Nor I,” Writer #1 says. “But when the kids are gone? A possibility.”
The question I was left with was whether I have never been to a writer’s retreat because I’m too attached to my kids to leave? Or is it that I haven’t had the support from my partner to allow me to accept an invitation? Or is it that I’ve never been selfish enough to just take off and go?
