Category Archives: Fishtrap

I’m sitting on my porch in the summer warmth, working on my writing outside until the sunlight and warmth makes it uncomfortable to be outside any longer. Not that much writing has been going on until now, because I’ve been digesting and organizing my notes from this summer’s Fishtrap Gathering of Writers.

Fishtrap is just that kind of writer’s conference. The organization’s overarching theme is “promoting clear thinking and good writing in and about the West.” To that end there are workshops—the good writing portion—and then keynotes and addresses and afternoon discussions—the promoting clear thinking portion. It’s not a Fishtrap without both elements—and this year, the two portions came together quite smoothly—even for, or perhaps, this year, especially for, a science fiction and fantasy writer.

This year’s theme was “Living Upstream,” and the particular workshop I chose was “Write for Change, Live Upstream,” taught by Laura Pritchett. The “Living Upstream” theme ended up focusing not only on environmental issues but the intersection of environmental issues and social justice. The thematic portion flowed into daily discussions with other attendees simply because of issues they were struggling with in the themes they chose to write about—whether it was the current cli-fi apocalypse I’m rewriting to other writers’ subjects, including novels about white supremacists and racism in Oregon.

Not that the whole thing was full of doom, gloom, and despair. If anything, the focus was on empowerment, whether we heard about Tim Z. Hernandez’s search for the names of 28 Mexican deportees killed in a plane crash in 1948 while being sent back to Mexico in All They Will Call You, to Kathleen Dean Moore, Kim Stafford, and Gary Ferguson exhorting writers to think about the interdependence of systems, how we celebrate a dying world, realizing the connection between environmental degradation and social injustice, the blindness of privilege and how to repair it, and accepting our role as word warriors.

Speaking of word warriors, let me tell you about Tim Z. Hernandez, because if you’ve not read him yet, you should be. He initially resisted the lure of All They Will Call You, because he had already written about the 40s and didn’t want to be known as someone who only writes about that period. But as time passed, he realized that he was the one to do the work, to find those names so they could be placed on the mass grave for the deportees (while the white people killed were found and bodies sent to their homes). He tried to talk to the families, but only found three (or was it four?) by publication, then a few more to bring the total to seven. At the end of his kick-ass presentation, he brought us all to tears by reading the names of the deportees killed in the crash and having the audience repeat “Presente” for each name. I bought the book and devoured it, and I tell you, you need to read it. Even though it is set in the 1948s, his account of how some of those people killed in the crash made the decision to come to the US for bracero work is heart-rending—and still relevant today. The search for the names, the histories of those who died—it’s all that and more.

I’m still processing what I learned and discussed there. I left the workshop with poems, essays, and story ideas—and a deeper understanding of what I need to do with Beating the Apocalypse. Sometimes we need to look beyond genre to focus on that clear thinking and good writing…and this year was one of those moments when it all came together.

Even for this speculative fiction writer.

Whew. Now that I’ve somewhat recovered from the Incident, I can attempt to come up with a semi-coherent and possibly flowing description of Fishtrap so far.

TL:DR—WOWWOWWOWWOW COOOOLLL.

Well, maybe not quite that many wows. Still, I have met a couple of writers whose work I squee over, been listening to some excellent writing by both faculty and participants, and will not only leave this workshop with some good nubbins to develop into stories and essays but have gained quite a few insights into how I plan to develop Netwalking Space, the (probably) final book of the Netwalk Sequence.

So. Some details. Fishtrap happens at the Methodist Camp at Wallowa Lake. Most of the activities take place either in the camp’s lovely A-frame lodge or in instructor cabins. It starts on Sunday afternoon for most participants (Saturday if you are part of the isolated Outpost workshop that’s happening out on Zumwalt Prairie; Thursday if you’re doing the short version, and then there’s a year-long workshop). The program starts on Sunday evening with instructor/class meetups and discussions, then introductory readings. Classes meet every morning from 9-12 and writing happens as part of those classes. Afternoons feature either a presentation or a panel, then open mic readings. Then in the evenings faculty present readings from their works. The faculty are an eclectic mix of poets, essayists, fiction writers, and a book artist.

Based on what I’ve heard in my workshop and in the open mic, the skill level of most participants starts at the intermediate level and runs all the way up to potential instructor material themselves. The ability level of my workshop on the uncanny with Marjorie Sandor is pretty much uniformly high with regard to the use of sensory detail, sentence formation, and idea development. Not all of us write fiction; there are essayists and poets in the group as well. For the first two days, our process has included an in-class writing period and an out-of-class overnight writing assignment. We write, and then we discuss each piece. I’m impressed with how Marjorie handles this group–at thirteen participants, it’s the largest workshop of the whole week-long session. She guides and directs the critiques focused on specific and particular aspects of how the uncanny manifests in our responses to the prompts, with an eye toward getting us to think and process just how to shape those apparitions in our work.

Robert Michael Pyle is giving the keynote speech on Thursday night this year, and I’m looking forward to it. I first fell in love with his work when I read Wintergreen, and I hoped to have the chance to talk to him. Well, not only did I get to talk to him, but he admired the cover of Beyond Honor (he had talked in his reading about how fortunate he was to have pretty covers, so I had to brag on my pretty covers. He did admire Pledges of Honor and Alien Savvy as well). Then, as we discussed my work, he gave me a look and commented on how prolific I was. Definitely a wow moment.

Then, tonight, Erika L. Sánchez read some of her poetry. But I didn’t realize until she was introduced that she was also one of the writers I follow in the Guardian. So after the reading tonight, I had to do a little fangirl squee and tell her how much I loved her work. An unexpected coolness.

But overall, the atmosphere is less likely to impose con glaze quite so quickly (though I think after tomorrow I will be dragging a little), and there’s a lot less intensity with regard to marketing. I’ve enjoyed meeting different types of writers and talking about our different works, and the focus on the writing itself is something I really needed.

There’s more to write about, including some odd encounters on the drive back home tonight. However, I think I will save that for another post…it’s getting late and tomorrow will be here soon enough.