A Writing Retreat

Last weekend along with 15 other members of Leicester Writers Club,  I enjoyed a writing retreat  in a secluded 16th Century farmhouse in the Cotswolds.  This is the eighth year the retreat has taken place.
We enter the secret world of Middle Stanley by a farm track that tunnels through a causeway carrying the Gloucester/Warwickshire steam railway.  The track lined with ancient apple trees, usually in full blossom during our visits, continues uphill to the farmhouse and outbuildings that make up the small conference centre. The estate, cut off from the world  by the causeway at the front is also cut off at the rear by the curving slope of a wooded hill.   A large pond, home to moorhens, coots and geese, lies in a hollow between the farm buildings and the hill.
We workshop in a room with enormous floor to ceiling windows that has been created from a former pigsty. We collaborate in a farmhouse kitchen, complete with temperamental Aga,  to produce superior meals which we eat in a dining room equipped with an elliptical table large enough to seat all in comfort.

The strictly members-only work-shopping week-end has been an annual event for eight years, and each year all who attend have voted to keep it on.
With no external work shop leaders, the Middle Stanley retreat could easily have become introverted and, with places for only 16 out of an average membership of 40, divisive.  Due to diligent planning on the organisers’ part, however, it hasn’t turned out that way.

The workshops far from being introverted actually open a window onto national best practice. Although the club contains several professional writing class tutors they usually take a back seat at Middle Stanley,  leaving  the running of workshops to members who have recently attended reputable writing courses and conferences elsewhere. These leaders  replicate the workshops they themselves have found most valuable, thus disseminating expertise gained from the outside world amongst the rest of us.
An important benefit that accrues  from confining workshop leadership to club members is that no one feel bound to attend the workshops. Members with approaching dead lines or with young families are free to use the time for long periods of uninterrupted writing, while still being enjoying the advantages of literary conversation during meal times.
Our efficient organisers avoid elitism by advertising the booking date and starting time  in advance with the assurance to newcomers that it is open to all regardless of length of membership. The bookings are taken on a strictly, first come, first served basis.  Old stagers tend to hang back to make sure newcomers have the best chance of a place. Miraculously, so far, all people, who have had to start off on the waiting list, have found places when other people have had to drop out. The majority of club members have managed to attend at least one weekend so it strengthens club unity rather than proving divisive.  For those with commitments which mean they can never get away for a whole weekend, the club runs a workshop day later in the year on similar lines to Middle Stanley which also helps with inclusivity.
I found the workshops this year extremely useful. They more than made up for the weather and the disappointment of not being able to climb up the hill and sit meditating on a log near the peak.
I came away realising once again how lucky I am to have such a vibrant club within easy travelling distance from home.

PS Thank you to Liz Ringrose for allowing me to use her photos. I only found my camera when I unpackedback home!