Casa Libre en la Solana: I've never in my life gone away for a writing retreat. I don't have kids, I don't have pets that need walking (my snake, actually, periodically forgets that I exist, and vice versa); I have a pretty low-maintenance life, so I keep thinking that I don't need to "get away." But one of our cool Mills poets pointed out this place, and now I think I need to go.
This was what a couple of MFA's came up with who wanted not to let go of what goodness they had gotten from their writing immersion. A movable feast, a revolving door of a writing group, this is a not-for-profit writing refuge that looks wonderfully sunny and warm and nurturing in contrast to my cluttered office, the dark clouds outside my window, and the email that keeps sliding into my in-box.
Which would be less trouble, to unplug the phone, or fly to Tucson?
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