Sometimes, you just need to go and write.
Two weeks from today, our band of travellers from North
America will take Ireland by storm when we arrive at Clontarf Castle Hotel for
five dark and stormy nights – or whatever fine weather we can get – and then
make our way West together, a ragtag bunch of dreamers full of grand ideas, lively
talk, earnest music, and good Irish food and drink.
In March 2016, we started planning – and Go and Write ™ was born. We could have gone just about anywhere, but, as far as I was concerned, the first retreat had to be in Ireland and, therefore, I wanted
a castle for “the perfect writer’s retreat.” Much to my surprise, with the help
of Freedom Travel, we made it happen. And that was just the beginning of our
conjuring. This entire trip really is a testament to the power of magical
thinking.
Ireland is the perfect location for a writing retreat, for
it has been the land of my dreams ever since I was a boy growing up in rural
Newfoundland. My people are from there. The name “Collins” is derived from Cúchulainn,
a hero of Irish mythology. Michael Collins is the penultimate Irish freedom
fighter from West County Cork. My father’s family were from Ireland; my
mother’s family were from Ireland, and the place I grew up is as Irish as any
place that isn’t actually Ireland. The Emerald Isle was in our talk, in our music, in our very faces and brains. In grad school, I wrote about Ireland for
the first time – a creative nonfiction memoir that connected all these pieces, with
the focus on rebellion, but I never finished it. The story ends in Ireland, but
I’d never been there and, so, here I go to the land of my ancestors – and I’m
bringing 18 other people with me, each of whom has their own reason for making
the journey, and I feel privileged to have been entrusted with those dreams.
The castle, yes. Just the other day, I awoke to the thought:
On a Saturday morning in a couple of
weeks from now, I’ll be waking up in a castle… in Ireland, on Dublin’s doorstep.
And I thought of the writers who’d lived there – James Joyce’s Dubliners, in particular inspired my own
short stories, while Oscar Wilde, W.B. Yeats, Bram Stoker, Seamus Heaney, Frank McCourt, Roddy Doyle, Colm Toibin,
among others, also found a way into my heart and mind. Then I thought of the
famed Trinity College, the Book of Kells, St. Stephen's Green, St. Patrick's church, The Guinness Factory, and, not too far away, the ancient Newgrange, and out to the West, the famed Cliffs of Moher, the Burren landscape, and The Lake Isle of Innisfree.  |
| Newgrange - older than Stonehenge |
But all those new friends we’ll make – that’s probably the
most satisfying part. It’s those quiet conversations during the long evenings
with a drink or a meal, maybe near a fireplace, that are the real treasure of
any retreat, even beyond the writing workshops and one-on-one conversations –
it’s the writers sitting around a table or living room sharing stories and thoughts. On any tour that includes hotels and buses,
people will naturally get to know each other. But when you add in that most of
these fellow travellers are writers, who naturally are curious about other
people’s lives and the world, that some of us are also musicians and singers,
that Dublin is the pub capital of the world – well, I have no doubt this will
be the journey of a lifetime.
There’s always a plot twist, though, and this is mine: in
mid-December, I suffered a concussion. Even then, I felt fortunate that it hadn’t
happen in February. But in January, after a couple of setbacks, a neurologist
told me I would need “a miracle” in order to be able to do all the work
required of me in advance of this trip. Just a few weeks before the trip, I was
still in pain and unable to work, though I never doubted I’d get it done
somehow. Then, one day, the fog lifted and I was able to work for a few minutes
without pain. The next day, it was a couple of hours. Now, exactly two weeks
before the trip, I’ve read all the submissions from each writer who is taking
part in this retreat. It seems I got my miracle, and for that I’m grateful.
So, in two weeks we’ll be getting on that plane, flying to
Toronto, then soaring across the Atlantic Ocean – reversing the migratory
excursion that many of our ancestors made by ship many decades ago. We’ll get
cozy at a 12th century castle for five nights, doing lots of
writing, talking, and sightseeing, among other things – and then we’ll head out
towards Sligo and Ennis, stopping at the Cliffs of Moher, Galway City,
Limerick, the Burren, and so much more, including some spots that inspired Yeats
– the greatest poet of the twentieth century.
I’ve written about all this before. But it’s just now
becoming real – we’re actually going. I’m not immune to the excitement I’ve
been hearing in all the emails and Facebook posts I’ve seen from this group of
Go and Write travelers. As the founder of this feast, I’m just as thrilled and
wide-eyed as everyone else.
When I was growing up, my family didn’t have much money. A
trip to the capital city, St. John's, was a rare opportunity. An ice cream from the store
down the road was a treat. When it came time to go to university, I eventually
needed student loans in order to get there and, later, I received scholarships
in order to attend graduate school. Traveling was always in my heart and in my mind,
but up until recently, it had just never happened. But lately, I’ve come to
realize that life is short and if you have a yearning to go somewhere, you can
make it happen. So, with a lot of help from a few people, this is happening.
Hold onto your golden tickets – we’re going to Ireland.
And, no, we won’t forget to write.
