Residency Life Reflections
artist colonies just may be the answer if you use them right
I went to my first arts residencies in the summer of 2009. First Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, then Ucross, then Yaddo—all in succession. My debut novel had come. out in 2007 and was in paperback in 2008. I had had a traumatic breakup in February 2009 with someone I thought was going to be my forever-person and our ending involved assault, police, local crime blotters, court dates, the works. So I really needed a few months off. I was living in rural Pennsylvania, teaching at a liberal arts college in a town of 4000 and I really wanted to be somewhere where no one knew me and where I could just dream of my next projects. I managed to get into all the residencies I applied to that year but I had little idea what they were all about.
At VCCA, my first, I had no idea what my second novel was going to be about and I spent the first week reading aimlessly, chain-smoking anxiously, bikini shopping chaotically (a new boyfriend and I were planning a trip to Tulum), and making friends with the residents. It was extremely hot, there were huge black snakes everywhere, rumors of Lyme disease were floating around, and late-night poker marathons were keeping us sane. I ended up discovering the topic of my second novel in the middle of the residency—feral child + illusionist + 9/11 + Persian Book of Kings?!—and then I could not stop working. I was obsessed with these long stretches of uninterrupted writing time, cut into only by meals that were either packed lunches or communal dinner gatherings. I had the same great experience at Ucross and Yaddo though somewhere between the two I discovered I was actually sick: I somehow had contracted Lyme disease, possibly way before that summer and it had only shown up then for some reason. At Ucross I mainly holed up and enjoyed the almost-lunar rural Wyoming landscape (pop: 25!!) from my window; at Yaddo, I spent long hours in my tiny room in the third floor of the mansion, hearing about fellows freaking out about ghosts, bats, literary rivalries, and shattered marriages thanks to the temptation of infidelity at these things. My life that summer was all reading and writing, punctuated only by meals catering staffs I barely ever saw conjured up for me. I didn’t have to clean, cook, do anything but be entirely indulgent as an artist. And I had groups of people with me living the same, friendships that would last indefinitely past these experiences.
As a result, I was hooked one residency life. I’ve been to my favorite, Ucross, now four times—I apply ever three years (you can only apply every three years!) and luckily I have gotten in each time. I just came back from VCCA for the second time. I’ve done teaching stints at Vermont Studio Center and Atlantic Center for the Arts. Next fall, I get to be a fellow at my first international one, the Civitella Ranieri fellowship in Umbria, Italy. There are many more I am still applying to. These experiences have become an indispensable part of my writing process. I can’t emphasize enough how much of my work has gotten done at these! I can somehow write 3K words a day at a residency when I can barely do that in a week in my “real” life. I’ve been able to write entire first drafts in a month at a residency—I just did that at VCCA, with 50K words down on a new book—which happens only in years regularly. They are not just shortcut experiences, but opportunities to go really deep into my process and practice, without any other concerns clouding my mind. They almost feel coddling in how luxurious they are. But that is truly the point! You have to let yourself get spoiled by these stints.
So I thought I’d compile some thoughts and tips and perspectives on the whole thing. I realize not everyone can do this—people have jobs and families that make taking off like this quite impossible. But if you somehow can, even just once, I think you will get a lot out of it.
1). All levels are welcome—Oftentimes, I have students or beginning writers who think they are not experienced enough to get these fellowships. But they are truly for all levels! I’ve even noticed some prefer emerging writers. I have been a fellow with people between the ages of 20 and 90. You really should not hesitate. The writing samples and statements determine everything—plus, you never know how they are approaching organizing a cohort. They might need someone in some area of practice, some region, some demographic—and that might not be so apparent. Apply!
2). These should be free—Occasionally, I see that people discover these databases online that advertise literally thousands of these residencies all over the world. You really have to read the fine-print though as some are just glorified hotel stays. They actually cost something not just to apply but to attend. Other than the application fee, my residencies have never cost a penny. Often, the residencies even offer stipends to off-set costs. The whole point is these are awards. Otherwise you can create your own with any group of friends. Even with VCCA, where they ask for donations, a lot of us put down pennies a day because we truly don’t have the budget for these. And they get that! It does not affect your odds of getting in.
3). Be smart about timing—I often apply at random times of year, but there is an art to lining these up well. I know people who arranged it so they were able to go to these back-to-back for a full year. Of course, you never know, as it is common to get rejected. But just know for most you can go two weeks to two months. And just a couple weeks is truly better than nothing—it might actually be all you need.
4). Make friends!—It’s great to just get into the zone of your work at these places, but do remember they are opportunities to connect with other authors and artists. Not just network but forge real bonds that can have great value beyond your practice. I have been able to find inspiration for my work through conversations with fellows, I’ve been inspired to apply elsewhere thanks to their anecdotes, I have been offered gigs at various fellows home institutions, and I have also found readers among the fellows. This is a very special part of the experience that is impossible to recreate on your own.
5). Don’t stress your work & go with your flow—Some people get to these residencies and panic when they are not productive immediately. I usually go for a month but I tend to accept the first week I am just adjusting and figuring out a routine. Be forgiving and do not panic about time running out or you not matching someone else’s stride. This time around I found a structure that worked for me—first meal at 11:30 with coffee, exercise videos every other day, two periods of writing a day, one period of reading a day, a daily walk, and same sleep times daily. I even structured in days and times I would call others in my real life and check in with the world. But you need a few days to get to this point and really figure it out. The rhythm of a residency has everything to do with when you are there, who is there with you, and who you and your project are at a given moment in time. Give it a second to reveal itself to you.
6). Don’t overthink your setting! These experiences are less about the setting than the facilities. Focus more on your needs there—will you need an accessible room, do you need certain supplies, will your diet work with their capabilities in the kitchen, what sort of accommodations are essential to make your stay great, etc. That is what this is all about. The foliage and terrain will determine a lot less what your time will look like, even though it is a plus!
7). Make sure to mark your calendar with deadlines for applications! It is so easy to forget these, and generally most only have two application periods per year.
And HAVE FUN. This is truly the secret to enjoying this all. Residencies are the best way to connect to the “fun” aspect at the heart of our art that we often neglect as adults, truly.