In my former career, I attended conferences and seminars, not festivals or retreats. Those corporate gatherings were often held at cookie-cutter hotels or convention halls which all looked the same. The attendees, including me, looked and acted much the same too – dressed professionally but not too formally, making sure to network. I listened to dry speeches, panel discussions and pretended to be interested in detailed obtuse Power Point presentations, which I would forget the next day.

In contrast, I recently returned from the Writers at Woody Point Festival (Writers at Woody Point) on the west coast of Newfoundland, an island on Canada’s east coast. No corporate ballrooms, navy blazers (with one exception, thanks to Rick Mercer) or Power Point presentations to be found. Come as you are. Here, a stone’s throw away from Bonne Bay and within sight of Gros Morne Mountain and the Tablelands (“a surreal barren, orange landscape featuring the Earth’s inner soul” in Gros Morne National park Gros Morne National Park (canada.ca)), two hundred folks gathered in an old wooden lodge built in 1908 and lovingly restored by a local musician and dreamer.

Attendees came from across the country and across the bay to hear both new and celebrated authors like Louise Penny read from their novels, to listen to them in conversation with journalists, who too are lovers of literature, including the ebullient Shelagh Rogers. The audience was eager and thrilled to be there, hanging on every word, laughing at the banter, and reflecting on poignant observations. For most sessions, the hall was at capacity with people overflowing in the open doorway straining to hear every word. Discussions about writing were interspersed with live music including traditional folk music (imagine a dozen talented musicians, led by Newfoundlander and CBC darling Tom Power, sitting in a circle playing accordion, banjo, fiddle, guitar, and mandolin with cases of Blue Star beer on the floor while hundreds of attendees and locals sat, stood and danced around them, singing, until after 1 am), a surprisingly cool and eclectic group, Ouroboros, featuring four saxophonists and a drummer blending folk, jazz and funk, and the uber-talented Jeremy Dutcher accompanied by an amazing drummer, stand up bassist and recordings from his New Brunswick indigenous elders. Meanwhile, upstairs in the hall, refreshments were served, books were signed and sold, and genuine well wishes and hugs exchanged. The mood was warm and electric, the spirit collegial and supportive. 

I thought, “This is a far cry from a tax conference at the Meadowvale in Mississauga. I could get used to this!” 

Same goes for a very special writing retreat I joined in April (Rebirth Your Writing Onboard 2024 (rebirthyourbook.com)). Seven glorious days aboard Cunard’s Queen Mary 2 ocean liner as it crossed the Atlantic from Southampton, England to New York City. Each morning and afternoon, I joined thirty other writers and four terrific instructors, Jane Friedman, Alison K. Williams, Dinty W. Moore and Amy Goldmacher, to discuss writing craft and the business of writing. Yes, Power Point presentations were used, but they felt different from the presentations I’d seen in corporate conferences; these were interesting and helpful. In the evenings, participants, instructors and their partners or guests dined together and often joined one another for entertainment on board. I guess this could be called “networking” but there were no hard sells or subtle bravados, just genuine support, interest, and encouragement. Maybe it was the spirit of camaraderie amongst the participants and instructors or maybe it was me, but this was uplifting and enjoyable. 

What I’m learning about the writing world is that while it is competitive – it’s very difficult to follow the traditional route of finding an agent and getting published by a big five publishing house – there seems to be a genuine spirit of cooperation and encouragement amongst writers. They don’t try to get a leg up on one another but rather extend a hand to help. I’ve never felt so supported, encouraged and welcomed. It’s refreshing.

I know what some of you are thinking; there are writers’ conferences in airport hotel ballrooms, corporate retreats in exotic locations, and I’m still in the honeymoon phase as a new entrant into the writing profession wearing rose-coloured glasses. 

Maybe. 

Or maybe there is a real difference in this world.

Maybe I’ve found where I belong.