Residency in Faerieland?
I’m back from the August residency, and while I’m not ready to get into anecdotes and the like, I wanted to say a few words about the residency experience.
I’ve been through two of these now, and I think I understand: residencies are held in faerieland. Consider the following:
- Time doesn’t work right there. It appears to pass normally, but the sense of time itself fades away. Only “now” exists, and anything more than a day away might as well never arrive, until it does with a suddenness that makes you feel that no time has passed at all.
- It is a place of wonder. You are surrounded by people who share your creativity, but bring very different perspectives to it such that surprises are as frequent as the smiles and laughter.
- You are changed by your time there. You experience and learn so much that you are a different person when you return to the human world*. Now, I admit that this may not be as extreme a transformation as in some of the old faerie tales, but it’s still affective.
- The treasures of faerie are phantasmal. I’m back at work today, and people have asked me about the residency. I found I had to settle for broad statements because my co-workers aren’t writers – they don’t have the perspective or specialized vocabulary necessary to really understand what I could tell them. I tried, but their expressions glazed quickly. All this gold I’ve found and they can only see a handful of leaves.**
Of course, if the residency actually was held in faerieland, then I made a horrible mistake in getting the meal plan. Maybe that was offset by the people I was nice to at the airport on my way in. . . .
*Hmmm. I’m not sure about the implication that writers aren’t human, but I’m going to leave it because I refuse to use a term for one’s daily life that could be seen as derisive.
**I am very fortunate that not only is my wife an excellent reader, she loves what I’m doing and wants to hear all about it, even giving me time to explain anything unfamiliar.
