Hedgebrook Authoring Change – Interview of Rahna Reiko Rizzuto

By Guest Author

Tell us about your work as a writer—do you write in multiple genres/forms?

Sadly, yes. I’m a self-taught writer, so every time I write a book, I have to teach myself to write all over again, and it’s not a quick process. For my first novel, Why She Left Us, I read like crazy and mapped out the books I liked to figure out what a novel was. I dissected them, teaching myself everything from how to end a chapter to how to format dialogue.

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Nostalgic for Some Radical Hospitality

By Guest Author

What I wouldn’t give to be in the soothing, lulling calm of Hedgebrook Farms right now. I could use a little radical hospitality of the soul post November 8.

I had the good fortune to attend a Master Class last June and while I can’t say it radically changed my life I would definitely say it substantially altered the course of my work.

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Alumna Reflection: Elissa Washuta

By Guest Author

In 2009, nearing the completion of my MFA in creative writing, I sat in on a panel of faculty and alumni who shared their post-MFA experiences and let us in on their secrets of productivity after the quarterly deadlines disappeared. This was the first time I’d ever heard of a writing residency.

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Alumna Reflection

By Guest Author

I arrived to my Hedgebrook residency in February 2015 with a pile of grocery bag paper, fabric scraps, pens and glue sticks, and a few finished pages for my second book, Death Is Stupid. I was there to illustrate the story I’d written about a child facing his grandmother’s death while adults say stupid things to him, like “she’s in a better place.”

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An Enchanted Summer at Hedgebrook

By Guest Author

In the solitude at Hedgebrook I was pulled from the deepest darkest parts of myself, showing up as a writer each day. My daily routine that summer was a part of the process, waking up before sunrise, wandering through the silence of trees to the bathhouse, picking flowers in the garden for my cottage at Oak, making myself coffee and two boiled eggs from my basket—which was stocked each night in the main house with goodies for the next writing day—and returning to my desk to work until late afternoon.

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