November 2002

When we first conceived of these monthly updates, we envisioned them serving two purposes. The first, naturally, was to let people know month by month what we’re doing here at Inkberry, what we’ve got coming up, and how our whole enterprise is faring. As entrepreneurs (which is what Rachel, Sandy, and I suddenly found ourselves to be), this made sense to us. The second purpose appealed to us more as writers: the monthly newsletter was a chance to document the growth of Inkberry, and we thought of it as the diary of a fledgling nonprofit, a memoir-in-the-making as we learned the ropes of arts administration.

So it’s in that documentary spirit that I relate a new truth I’ve absorbed: when you run a nonprofit arts organization in the Berkshires (or, conceivably, anywhere else, but I can’t speak to that), the year takes on a definite rhythm that’s only loosely tied to the weather. January through May are slow-paced and hopeful; June through August are busy and exciting; September is reasonably relaxed, but shadowed by the looming season ahead; and October and November are absolutely exhausting. In December, thankfully, everything slows down as we approach the holidays, and we all take a much-needed rest.

The reason for this rhythm, of course, is that fall is fundraising season. Every year, Inkberry’s annual appeal goes out to about 50% more people than the year before, which means that every year the process of putting it together and getting it out the door is proportionally more difficult than anything we’ve previously attempted. The fact that this newsletter is getting sent out on November 7, rather than the first of the month, will give you some indication of just how hectic things have been over here.

But I’m happy and proud to report that, with the help of many magnanimous volunteers, we’ve done it. If you’re on our paper mailing list, chances are you’ve already received our letter, and so you already know the most exciting news of the month: Inkberry is now open to members! Starting this fall, you can become an Inkberry member at any of six levels, from Chapbook on up through Limited Edition (like the names?), with benefits ranging from borrowing privileges at our ever-expanding (and newly catalogued and re-shelved) Writers’ Resource Library, to discounts on classes, to invitations to special events, and beyond. This is a great new way to support Inkberry’s endeavors while at the same time getting something back for yourself. See http://www.inkberry.org/member.html to learn all about it!

When we’re not devoting ourselves to fundraising, we are still actively involved in the things we care most about, like running our classes and presenting readings. All of this fall’s classes are well underway (and one of them has already ended!). These days, I’m spending my Wednesday evenings with an impressively diverse and hard-working group of aspiring novelists, Rachel’s online mixed-genre workshop is going so well that we’ve got all kinds of dreams about other online courses we can offer, and I’ve heard great things about the Lord of the Rings discussion group, which I believe has now covered two out of three volumes in Tolkien’s epic. In October we were graced by a visit from author David Huddle, who read from his poems as well as his most recent novel and then led a fascinating discussion about the writing process, and how the places we come from affect the stories we tell and the ways we tell them. Looking ahead to our next event, on Saturday, November 16 at 7:30pm, we’re very pleased to be presenting An Evening of Regional Poets, featuring new work by four up-and-coming writers from the Berkshire region. Kate Abbott, George Drew, Greg Scheckler, and Margaret Szumowski are all fabulous writers, and between them they cover a wide range of styles, so it should be a terrific evening. We’re especially delighted about this event, since three of the four have been students in Inkberry workshops (I’ll let you guess which three), and they’ve all been enthusiastic supporters of our readings.

I’ve not had worlds of time for pleasure reading of late, but at the moment I’m halfway through a novel that I think ought to be required reading for anyone who writes fiction, or who writes anything at all, or who just loves a good read. The book is The French Lieutenant’s Woman, by John Fowles, and it combines an engrossing story with some truly dazzling narrative tricks. Written in the late 1960s, the book is set in the late 1860s, and Fowles somehow manages to draw you into his story, with characters that seem wholly alive, while never letting you lose sight of the century between the events and the narration. The result is a historical novel written from a perspective that I’ve never seen before — and I’ve read a fair amount of postmodern fiction. This book has none of the sterility I tend to associate with postmodernism; it’s an accomplished balancing act between old-fashioned storytelling and metafictional investigation into just what a novel can do. I can’t wait to get back to it.

On that note, here’s wishing everyone a peaceful November, and stay warm!

— Emily