Before Saturday, I had never been to a literary salon. I guess I figured they were a thing of the past. When I pictured a literary salon I saw Virginia Woolf, John Maynard Keynes, and Lytton Strachey sitting around smoking cigarettes and drinking themselves stupid while they critiqued each others writing, which sounds fun and all, but I’ve got kids.
But in the past month, I’ve been invited to two, count them two, literary salons. I attended the first on Saturday and it was fabulous. It was hosted by Barbara Abercrombie, a teacher in UCLA’s highly respected writers extension program. We met when I took a seminar from her in July, and to be fair, I kind of invited myself. Once I heard that this was happing, I knew I wanted to join, and she very graciously looped me into her email list so I could attend.
It was up in Arrowhead. If you’re not from Southern California, allow me to explain that this is far. It should be about an hour and half drive up into the mountains, except that there were 3 (!!!) accidents on the 210 eastbound that afternoon so it actually took me almost three hours in tripple-digit heat. But as soon as I got on highway 18 and began making my way up the mountain, the traffic fell away and the temperature dropped.
I stopped to take this photo from the side of the highway. It hardly does the view justice. It was lovely.
And the long drive was totally worth it. We didn’t smoke and drink the day away. The day was mostly over by the time I got there. But it was an impressive group of creative people. I was there for about five minutes before I fell into a conversation more meaningful and interesting than I’ve had with strangers probably ever. Hours went by, and the sun went down, then Barbara fed us all lasagna and we got down to the business of reading.
Five people read from works in progress. There was no feedback, or critique. It was just a chance to share our writing. It was awesome. It felt like I had found my people. Writers. Writers who write. Three cheers for the literary salon – who knew?
The entire evening felt like a cleansing exhale.
I wish I had been able to stay late into the night, as most of the guests did, but I had a long drive home ahead of me, so I bailed around 10 and grinned all the way home. It really was a fantastic experience.
The next literary salon I’m attending is in September. This is a newer group, hosted by a writer friend I admire very much. It will be interesting to see how the energy compares. Two big benefits to this one: it’s in Mount Washington (which is about 5 minutes from my home) and I get to bring my hubby. I can hardly wait.
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