In the northwest corner of New Mexico lies a small jewel called Ghost Ranch. Its redrock landscape is familiar from the paintings of Georgia O’Keeffe, who lived and painted there for fifty years; and in August of every odd-numbered year, a bunch of women writers from across the country gather to write, to learn, to share their stories, to drink wine, to hike the backcountry, and to have the tops of their heads blown off by that thing called poetry.

Well, poetry and fiction and drama and memoir… all these genres are represented at A Room of Her Own Foundation’s Women Writers Retreat. This year, the fourth incarnation of the conference, faculty included fiction writer Pam Painter, actor and playwright Ellen McLaughlin, memoirist Meredith Hall, poet Dana Levin, and a host of others at the top of their game. The quality of the evening readings blew my mind. Rita Dove, former Poet Laureate of the U.S., was in good company when she read for the group on Wednesday; her spectacular performance, remarkable for the intimacy of the setting and for the generosity with which she shared her thoughts and life experiences, fit seamlessly into the lineup of gorgeous work we listened to all week.

It was especially poignant for me, as it confirmed once more that this organization is one of the most unique, positive, and effective supporters of women writers that exists. I’m fresh off a two-year stint as recipient of their $50,000 Literary Gift of Freedom Award, a grant which allowed me to write WRECKER, the novel I’ve wrestled with since ARROYO came out in 2001. I’m immensely grateful to the organization for its support, and it was with the greatest joy that I passed on my imaginary tiara to the 2009 recipient, New Orleans writer Barb Johnson.

Haven’t heard of Barb? Trust me: you will soon. She’s an amazing talent wrapped in Southern humor and graciousness, a writer who conveys with strength and delicacy the heartbreak of life in Mid City, New Orleans – and the love that redeems it. I’m a new fan, about to be joined by thousands more when her first collection of fiction, More of this World Or Maybe Another, hits the bookstores in October. I’d spoken to Barb a few times before, but spending these days together at Ghost Ranch, and hearing her read a story to the group, assured me that she’s the real thing: smart, funny, original, generous; a writer whose intense language lets her story leap from the page and change the reader’s life.

I felt overwhelmingly grateful to be there, and to stand between two writers – Barb to one side, Meredith Hall, 2004 Gift of Freedom recipient and author of the already-classic memoir Without a Map (a runaway bestseller), to the other – whose work I admire and whose friendship I cherish. It seemed to me a great example of what AROHO does best, which is to bring together women writers whose work and lives enrich each other and spur each other to work harder, trust deeper, believe more strongly in the power of literature to transform our personal lives and to – yes, I’ll say it – make a better world.

That week at Ghost Ranch was a better world, and it was this world: no fantasy, but a real example of what work and intention and love can do when yoked to a worthwhile cause. A tremendous amount of all of those things went into the making of the retreat, and I offer my greatest thanks to Darlene Chandler Bassett and Mary Johnson, founders of AROHO and directors of prior retreats; to Kim Ponders, extraordinary novelist and teacher who threw herself into directing this retreat; to Tracey Cravens-Gras, a writer herself, who worked tirelessly to keep all the ducks in a row; and to all the gifted and generous participants who came together to make this week so tremendous an experience for all.

No question about it: I’ll be there in 2011. Can’t wait to see you then.

I promised in Monday’s post to tell you about another New Mexico writers’ conference, this one in Taos.

First, a quick word about good luck.  I’ve had healthy doses of it throughout my writing career, but, early on, maybe the most propulsive bit of luck came my way in 1999 when I won a fellowship to the first Taos Summer Writers’ Conference.  I had the opportunity to work with Pam Houston, an astounding writer of short stories, and her comments on and appreciation for my novel manuscript, ARROYO, helped to launch it into the world of published work.

Eleven years later, I’m back at the Taos Summer Writers’ Conference.  This time I sit at the faculty side of the table, and I couldn’t be prouder or more pleased to be able to teach alongside such accomplished writers as Pam (returning for her eleventh year), Antonya Nelson, Robert Boswell, the hilarious Rob Wilder, and more.

What makes the Taos conference so extraordinary?  Well, in a word:  PLACE.  And that’s why, when Conference Director Sharon Oard Warner (herself an accomplished novelist and professor of creative writing) asked me to consider teaching a weekend workshop called Writing Around Taos, I jumped at the chance.  (Thanks to the always generous creative genius Natalie Goldberg for recommending me for the post.)

Okay, okay, so I’m a Taos booster.  I’m crazy about the mountains, the way the Rio Grande cuts through the high desert landscape like a knife, the unique interface of cultures, the wealth of tradition, the lively and creative ways people approach daily life here.  I’m nuts about the way seasonal rhythms still govern life in Taos.  Maybe it sounds weird, but there’s some way in which the beauty and abundance of the landscape gets reflected in the beauty and diversity and customs of the people who live here.  And I’m no stranger to the flipside of that, the way the beauty and abundance are tempered by a kind of harsh austerity that can play out among the people here, as well.

And since that’s what this blog is about – identifying, exploring, and celebrating the ways in which place functions in writing – I’m so happy to be able to invite you to join me in doing just that, this summer, in Taos.  A positive early response to the weekend workshop led Sharon to ask me to put together a week-long version, and so Writing The Where Of It was born.  Both workshops will let us leave the classroom and experience the landscape and cultural history of the Taos area firsthand while we delve into the question of how to access the power of place in our writing.

You can find more information – including scholarship opportunities – at the conference website.  And if you can’t come this year but know others who might like to, please take a second and pass the word to them.

A little more about luck

The thing about luck, all writers know, is that it can’t hurt to give it a little help.  Attending conferences, applying to contests and for residencies, improving your skills and getting your work out there to those who will appreciate it – all of these things can propel you to a new level in your work.  Which makes you shine brighter when that wand of luck comes waving around, no?  So go for it.  Check out the ways in which you can access help to becoming a better (and better-known) writer.  You can find tons of info about grants, awards, residencies, and the like for writers and artists here.

In his novel The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, Michael Chabon did a terrific job of evoking – in great detail – the landscape and particulars of life at a naval air station in Antarctica.

Had he been there to experience the place?  I don’t know the answer to that; based on the references he cites in his Author’s Note, I’m going to guess no. I’ll leave it for another post to explore the ramifications of writing about a place you haven’t experienced firsthand.  It brings up all kinds of questions about authenticity and imagination, reality and the fictional construct – questions I find endlessly interesting.

But as far as that chilly place goes, you might be able to get yourself there, for free, under the auspices of the National Science Foundation’s Antarctic Artists and Writers Program.  Here’s how they describe it:

The purpose of the Antarctic Artists and Writers Program is to enable serious writings and works of art that exemplify the Antarctic heritage of humankind. In particular, the program seeks to increase public understanding of the Antarctic region, including the continent and the surrounding oceans, as well as the associated research and education endeavors.

The Antarctic Artists and Writers Program provides opportunities for professional artists and writers to travel to Antarctica — at research stations, field camps, and aboard ships — to make the observations necessary to complete their proposed projects. While the majority of award recipients are established artists and writers, the program also seeks to support early career artists and writers in an effort to broaden participation.

The program funds air travel to and from the point of embarkation, provides gear appropriate to the environment, feeds you on board the ship as you travel to and return from Antartica, and pretty much covers what you need, short of personal effects, while you’re at the field station.

It’s a federal grant, so you apply through grants.gov.  And while they do consider your previous accomplishments, they’re open to writers and artists who haven’t racked up significant credentials, yet, too.  The chief criteria seem to be the intellectual merit and the broader impacts of the proposed activity.

Gretchen Legler, who teaches creative writing at the University of Maine, Farmington, was one of those lucky individuals selected for the program.  ON THE ICE, her book of personal nonfiction, was the result.  She also put together a website with exercises and examples for writers interested in place.

I’ll admit, I’ve got a hankering to find myself in Antarctica one day.  I’m keeping this opportunity in mind.