Okoboji Writers' Retreat: A literary league in the leaves
Okoboji Writers' Retreat: A literary league in the leaves
'Plantsing' my way through educational, meaningful sessions
WAHPETON — I had the opportunity to attend the Okoboji Writers’ Retreat Sept. 17-20 at Iowa Lakeside Laboratory — or, as the bag proudly promoted, the University of Okoboji. The U of O may not be a real university, but Chuck Offenburger noted he is dean of the journalism school, and isn’t that enough accreditation?
The 1902 History of Dickinson County refers to an “Okoboji Literary League” that was founded in 1863. More than a century and a half later, this retreat, now in its third year, has revived that spirit. Scores of literary lights were in attendance, all powered by the dynamo that is Julie Gammack.
My course selection was at times a paradox of choice with many promising options. A couple of times I changed at the last minute. I wanted to make sure I took the opportunity to expand my horizons with both fiction and memoir writing, as well as get more pointers on journalism skills.
The one catch to the packed days was a start time so early that I felt someone (or the cellphone alarm) should’ve played reveille.
Planners, pantsers, and plantsers
Monday was split between fiction and journalism. It included a panel of published authors talking about fiction and a session called “Writing with abandon: A crash course in novel writing” from Grant Faulkner, executive director of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). Abandon is something that doesn’t sit well with me, in any sense of the word, but challenging my limits is what something like this is all about. “Writing for quantity instead of quality can lead to both,” Faulkner said.
I asked the panel of authors what they did when they got into a hole. Sometimes the answer is to work backward, and sometimes the answer is to dig yourself out of it. I learned the difference between a planner, a pantser and a plantser. A planner will sketch out as much of the story as she can before getting to writing, confident in her outline. When the outline falls apart, consider it a new problem to solve. It’s a “dance between chaos and control.” A pantser will write by the seat of her pants, letting the story and characters go where they will. A plantser is somewhere in the middle. I suppose my retreat choices could be described as plantsing.
The journalism portion of the day was listening to Art Cullen talk about the writing that earned his paper a Pulitzer Prize. Despite the award, he was having trouble making payroll, until a miracle came in the form of Taiwanese billionaire John Tu. That session was followed by getting tips on opinion writing from Todd Dorman and Kathie Obradovich.
Monday ended with a meal at the Pearson Lakes Art Center. The center, with its large collection of “stimulating visual arts,” is something you’d expect to see in a much larger population area. For those who don’t venture into northwest Iowa much, this is another gem to appreciate.
The meaning of place
Tuesday was a memoir (memoir-able?) day. The lessons from this morning, both in panel and session, were valuable, especially about being descriptive in your writing. Author and memoir teacher Kali White VanBaale said that setting is a “poor, neglected craft element in fiction and nonfiction.” If the writer doesn’t give the reader a sense of time and place, it’s like seeing an actor on stage without any scenery. One of the writing exercises was to create such a setting. VanBaale and the session participants praised my descriptive paragraph, which is high recognition indeed.
Beth Hoffman, author of her own book and a member of the Collaborative, led another session on memoirs. This was about how to make our stories compelling to an audience, whether by specific event, larger theme or universal characteristic. It was something she said in the morning panel that stuck with me: “If you enjoy writing, and you feel the stories are important, just do it.”
Kyle Munson gave a tent revival on journalism, so to speak, with instructions about story structure under the main tent. There’s more than one method to frame a story, and each has a way to serve the narrative and maximize impact for the audience.
I joined in the sunset cruise around West Okoboji Lake, although I often took my eyes off the scenery in exchange for pleasant conversations. I enjoyed the chance to meet people I had only recognized via their writing — including those at Wednesday’s panel on reaching readers — and make new friends as well.
A place of meaning
Cheryl Tevis has written brilliantly about the history of the Iowa Lakeside Laboratory and the contributions that the research at the lab can make to our knowledge of nature and the environment.
“Okoboji,” although the name of a specific town, colloquially applies to the entire Iowa Great Lakes region. The lab complex itself, and Gull Point State Park to the southeast, are officially in Wahpeton, population 345. It’s a young Iowa community by legal standards. It incorporated in 1933 by seceding from West Okoboji, which itself had incorporated in 1924. The Spirit Lake Beacon of April 20, 1933, explains the meaning behind the name:
Chief Wahpeton, according to the information Miss [Emily] Barnett secured, was the father of Sounding Heavens and Grayfoot, who purchased Mrs. William Marble from Inkpaduta and returned her to the white people. The historical significance of the name, as connected with the Okoboji lakes, and the meaning which is “village or people dwelling in the leaves” has been chosen as doubly fitting for the new town which is being organized out of that portion of the town of West Okoboji which has been permitted to withdraw from the incorporation of West Okoboji town.
The Iowa Great Lakes have held deep meaning for many peoples, across many centuries. The cabins and the stone laboratory buildings at the Lakeside Lab, looking out over Little Millers Bay, provide a pleasant setting for both science and writing. At the retreat, we were people dwelling in the leaves. It was a wonderful place to celebrate the power of words and the many ways one can express that power.
As I drove back from the retreat I asked myself, did I use my time wisely? Will I put the opportunities for learning I had to good use? Of all the literary lights I interacted with, can I make my own light burn as brightly? I hope so.
My other work can be found on my website, Iowa Highway Ends, and its blog.
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I know so! I'm glad to hear that you enjoyed the retreat and had an opportunity to network with like-minded folks. It sounds like it was well worth Reveille. =)
Love this! Beautifully and truthfully written. (I was there. In fact, it sounds like we attended some of the same sessions. Sorry we didn’t meet!)