OYAN Summer Workshop 2014

      I think I've found home. As my mother pointed out a few days ago, home doesn't have to be a place. It can be people.
      Last week - from the 23rd to the 27th of June - I spent a stupendous, life-changing, myth of a time in Olathe, Kansas at the One Year Adventure Novel Summer Workshop.
      For those of you who don't know, OYAN is a homeschool curriculum written and designed by Daniel Schwabauer, author of the "Runt the Brave" series. I wrote my first novel last year with the help of Mr. S's guidelines, tips, outlining templates, and live webinars as well as the consistent aid of the OYAN Forum.
      Through the Forum, I've met unique, creative, intelligent people - students, like me - who all share at least two common traits - the love of writing, and the possession of wonder.

     
    This year's Summer Workshop theme was "Wonderology." They have a theme every year, but this - you see - was my first. (Not, however, my last.)
    What is wonder? Wonder is the joy of a child. Wonder is seeing something beautiful in everything. Looking at a tree and, instead of seeing it only as a tall stalk of wood, seeing it as something that God created. A living creature. Wonder is a respect for the most inanimate of objects, a reverence for earth, and animals, and beauty. Wonder is a dedication to stories, a passion for something. Wonder is loving God.
     Mr. S sparked the subject that, to quote, "A world without otherness, without magic, is very small. Thinking that you know what the universe consists of completely results in a loss of both fear and imagination. The universe shrinks."
     His goal, he said, as an author, is to, "write like somebody left the gate open!" As storytellers, our job is to show others the beauty in life - or the lack of beauty. To give them reason. To give them something to want. Someone to care about. Something to learn. "Restore" their sense of wonder and realize that our story is not entirely our own.
    If I absolutely had to pick a favorite session, it would be this one. Mr. S's talk thrilled me, and he put into words one of the very foremost reasons why I love writing. It was an wonderful start to a magical week.
     Mr. S was not the only speaker. We also got to hear from the hilarious but wise Jeff Gerke, the relatable and clever Jill Williamson, the sage and understandable Mark Wilson, as well as a handful of amazing, thoughtful, and enlightening veteran OYANers and assorted speakers. Not to mention Mrs. S, who is one of the most extraordinary, clever, funny people I have ever met. She introduced, delighted and generally hosted the Summer Workshop - and nobody could have done it better.
    On Wednesday, I got a fifteen minute "mentoring session" with Jill, in which we talked about outlining, publishing, and how I really needed a "high concept idea" for my novel. She was very kind and encouraging, and I am so grateful that I got to spend that time with her.

     My favorite talks beside Wonderology were Jeff's "Description," Mr. Wilson's "The Importance of Hobbits," and Jill's "Queries, Covers, and Book Proposals." I filled up an entire book and several extra pages of notes. I can't tell you how absolutely enlightened I feel after a whole week of intriguing author-talk. I feel inspired as a writer, and I feel as if these people uncovered a sort of buried treasure for me in both my own work and the works of other people.

      The entire structure of the SW was designed to give everyone the best of everything. We had evening and morning sessions for the speakers, which everyone attended. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner had their allotted slots, and if you finished eating before the scheduled time you had your reign of the campus until critique groups. 

The Baobab Avenue Critique Group

      Corresponding to Wonderology, the theme of the critique group names was "Magical Places."
     Places that were a miracle just for existing, like the Sailing Stones in Nevada and Fairy Pools in Scotland. Each of the eight critiquers was told beforehand to bring nine copies of four different excerpts of their novel - sixteen pages in total. Each day we critiqued four pages of everyone's. I think we had a sample of every genre in Baobab Avenue. Mythical Fantasy, Historical Fiction, Dystopian, Contemporary thriller, contemporary mystery, contemporary espionage.
     I was fortunate enough to be placed in the same group as my friend, Delaney. The purpose of critique groups is to have your work read and commented on by peers. It is to learn how to be critiqued, and how to critique others. It was great to read everybody's novels, and several of the comments my fellow Baobabs gave me were simply invaluable. The experience was enriching, and I can't wait to see who I get sorted with next year. It also motivated me to consider critiquing more on the Forum, which I had - until now - put off. This was partly because I told myself I had no time and partly because I didn't think I was a good critiquer. Baobab Avenue gave me confidence.
                                          
   Along with all of this busy scheduled gloriousness, there was just enough free time for other stupendous events {that had been planned previously on the Forum} to be attended. 
    A few guys brought an immense supply of foam-and-duct-tape swords and handed them out in the gym. The battles that followed will live long in the minds of men (or OYANers). They were perfectly organized, and the rules respected by all participants. Nothing but fun was had, and lots of it at that.
     My friend, Beth, organized an English Tea, and Courtney played her harp throughout (she knows "Misty Mountains"!). Beth brought biscuits and Darjeeling, and we made due with only a handful of teacups and a borrowed boiler. It was quite a welcome bout of relaxation after running about so much.

     There were various bursts of random singing throughout the week, usually of the musical sort, in which I realized how much better it is to sing with other people and how much I absolutely adored it. "Do You Hear the People Sing," "Red and Black," "Let it Go," and "I See Fire" were only a few of the ballads we hollered at intervals during the day, and they were quite well participated.I never dreamed I'd love that part of the SW as much as I did.

"It is better than an op-er-a!"

     There were various unscheduled Sherlock Meetings organized by Hannah and attended by a magnificent little group of people. The Sherlock Meetings (it was only afterwards that I realized we SHOULD have called them "Empty Hearse" meetings) were one of my favorite parts of Free-Time-SW. Not only did we sob over Hannah and Delaney's tragical fanfictions, we also giggled and babbled and ranted about the show and all it entails. It was nice to talk with various fans of the show akin to myself, for - as is true with any fandom - fanatics you get on with are difficult to find. Eventually we branched off to Hobbit and Doctor Who tangents as well, which just added to the fun.

"The Empty Hearse," (or, Sherlockians
with their brethren).

      The latter leads me to another spectacular part of the organized smatterings. Addison of Olathe had the resources and willpower to bring a fully constructed TARDIS to the SW on Thursday.
     A. FULLY. CONSTRUCTED. TARDIS, READERS. MADE OF WOOD.

    At least a quarter of those at the SW were dressed as someone from Doctor Who on its designated day, or had tally marks on their arm (all DW explanations here). We got to watch "Dalek" and "Blink," eat Jammy Dodgers and Jelly Babies, and basically geek out the rest of the time. Those who had them buzzed their sonic screwdrivers at anyone who stood still enough, and two guys dressed as the Tenth and Eleventh Doctors remained in character for the rest of the week. It. Was. Epic.

Cameron and I, TARDIS (Kiera), Me, Doctor (Hannah), blue box,
Kiera, Gigi, Addison, The Eleventh and Tenth Doctors, and Whovians on
stage.

       Open Mic night was fantastic - Matt, Mum, and Gamma came to campus to visit for that one. Along with a magnificent Doctor Who Medley, a moving poem read aloud by its author, and Frozen's "Fixer-Upper" in a novel parody (pun intended), OYANers teamed up to put on "Verily a New Hope" -Shakespeare's Star Wars skit, ballet, singing, "What Happens When You Read Your Old Writing," another performance from Frozen, "I See Fire," and an original guitar song. It was amazing how people my age, from all over the country, organized and performed such extraordinary, entertaining things in a single night. Collaboration among artists is a beautiful thing.

    AND I got to room with this amazing, supercalifragilistic girl - CAMERON! We turned out our lights early the first night like good little visitors, but stayed up babbling with our neighbors - Delaney and Hannah, it so happened - till curfew (1:00) every other. She is my River Song, and I her Amy Pond (... don't overthink that) and basically just a general pleasure to be around. We've been quite good pals since I met her last year on the Forum, and being flatmates for a week was positively the most exciting thing ever.

   I could go on forever. It was one of the best weeks of my life, for every single reason above and more. I learned so much. I met so many people who I can't wait to see again next year. All of these glorious OYANers, who I've been talking to for years on the Forum, were even more kind, even more wacky, funny and personable in real life, as they should be. Usernames became three-dimensional people with names and personalities and voices and faces.
    The adults in charge treated us all as they'd treat their peers. They treated us like artists waiting to be found, authors waiting to be published, and they made me - perhaps it's safe to say everyone - feel as though their work was something absolutely unique and special, waiting to be discovered. 

      I'm going back next year, with another novel. The Summer Workshop rekindled my love of writing, even when I thought that fire was already roaring high, it roared higher. I can't thank everyone enough, and - if any of you are reading this - I'll see you all in 2015. I miss you.

Cameron, me, Katelyn, Jeff Gerke, Callah, all wearing the same shirt
(for us girls it was preplanned ;)

Doctor, Leia, Me, Doctor - possibly the strangest
picture ever to exist.

Our pre-critique group reading session club

Reading Sherlock fanfiction
... it was as disastrous as it looks.

Mrs. S!

Mr. Daniel Schwabauer and I

200+ writers on one campus. "This is it, the apocalypse."

    P.S. It is the Fourth, and though this post is void of any clear patriotic paraphernalia (I'll post some of that on Supercalifireworks later on), I would like to point out that it does show an element of gratitude toward America. If it were not for the United States - or, more specifically, a combination of Kansas, homeschooling, wonder, and free will - the Summer Workshop would not have been possible. Happy birthday, America.