Musings

Continuing the theme of Portales — Lets Eat! We all met up at Marks for breakfast, and compared notes from our discussions with the president. We got back to the hotel just in time to form the caravan out to the ranch. I rode with Elanor Wood, Terry and Ian in Elanor’s rental car. It’s about a thirty minute drive, and on the way we passed fields of winter wheat, and a pasture full of mares and foals. I was desperate to stop and get a baby horse fix, but I’m alone in my passion for horses.

Once you turn on the long dirt road that leads to the ranch, you pass the original homestead. It’s a ruin now, and an owl lives up in the rafters. We never spotted him, but could hear him fluttering and scrabbling around as he was disturbed by all of us gawking. No one knows the exact size of the Williamson ranch. Gene Bundy told me that there are two questions you never ask a rancher — how much land he owns, and how many head of cattle he runs on that land.

The ranch house fits the standard definition of a “ranch” house. It’s a rambling, sprawling one story building filled with the smells of delicious food. So many years as the hostess always leaves me twitching to do something so I helped prepare silverware and napkins restaurant style for the coming feast. There was BBQ beef, pinto beans, fresh vegetables, macaroni and cheese, and fruit salad. There were also the traditional Williamson Old Fashioneds, but I declined because I’m not much a drinker and that much bourbon would have had me quietly asleep in a corner in about fifteen minutes.

After lunch the writers and the folks from ENMU went into a huddle to discuss the lectureship. I had lain awake a bit the night before thinking about what it was that made the lecturship valuable to me. I realized it was the chance to spend three days in the company of ther writers, and not be in a hurry, and not really to be “on” and having to impress people. I had met Connie Willis a number of times, but we didn’t get to know each other and become good friends until a lecturship. That’s really valuable. While science fiction writers have their annual gathering at World Con you don’t really get to talk with anyone. You see people for a few moments as you run between panels, or of to have drinks with your agent, or off to dinner with your editor. At the smaller cons there is more of a chance to visit, but the number of writers is also reduced. (Unless you’re at Bubonicon where I swear the writers outnumber the fans.)

What we cooked up was the idea that we utilize the writers more by sending them into the classrooms of the English department. Connie and I have taught a number of times on campus and really enjoyed it. We need to widen that exposure of students to writers. For our community we have to stress the opportunity to connect with your peers in a setting that isn’t as intense as a writer’s workshop. Sage Walker and I also discussed this after I got home, and she had a neat idea of maybe doing the equivalent of a “master class” in music. The university would have two or three famous writers come in for the entire week before the lectureship, and work with students. I think this has a lot of value. We also have to do a better job of enlisting the aid of the English department. The lectureship has run for years on the efforts of volunteers who were necessarily part of the campus. Our young aspiring writer, Stephen, said not a single class announced the lectureship of the panel discussions in the library. He finally forced the issue by asking one of his professors to announce the events.

I fell into a long conversation with Geni. She is a Spanish teacher and her speciality is ESL instruction. (English as a second language). She is _so_ frustrated with the Bush administration because the No Child Left Behind ignores or actively throws out all the research that indicates that non-English speakers learn English more quickly if they are in a bilingual program. I rather bitterly said that if it has anything to do with actual facts, much less science the administration will ignore it totally. Geni reported that when kids are thrown in the deep end they become so confused, isolated and embarrassed that they just end up dropping out of school. I swear sometime I think it’s a plot by the Republicans to create a very large, and permanent underclass who will be too scared and too poor to demand decent wages, working conditions and hours.

I finally hit the wall on conversation so I walked out to the small building that Jack had constructed, the place where he could write. I remembered Elanor marveling as we pulled in that it was in this tiny two room, well shack really, that he wrote DARKER THAN YOU THINK while a full moon shone in the windows. I then wandered over to look at the horses. One buckskin moved so strange behind that I went in to find Mitz who acts as ranch foreman and has married into the Williamson clan. Mitz is 72, and adores horses. Only when you’re a cowboy you don’t really admit to that. Horses are just furry trucks and used that way. But Mitz loves horses. So we talked horses, I got the scoop on the buckskin, and then he and I went out to see his two horses. A couple of teenage girls came with us, and got a lesson how to lead a horse and curry a horse. Mitz’s horse Tom aka Chuckles is a tiny little grade gelding with a lot of Quarter horse in him. He probably is too small for Mitz who is very tall and just big, but a real bond exists between them. I spent a lot of time scratching Chuckles, and pulling off clumps of winter coat. Mitz’s other horse is part thoroughbred, and he’s not reliable.

I returned to the house to wash the horse dirt off my hands, and found Patrice heading back into town. I begged a ride, and spent a couple of hours in the room just processing all the conversations, and all the wonderful moments. A gang of us headed to the Cattle Baron for dinner, and despite being in south eastern NM I ordered the shrimp because I needed something other than meat. We called it an early night.

On Sunday we drove home Where Ian and I prompty joined Carl for a late lunch at Maria’s (good, hot New Mexican food and _no_ meat) followed by a movie. Which will send me into a Hollywood post about Hot Fuzz. But that’s for later.

So now the question. How do you gather writers and readers in a place like Portales when you no longer have that master, and all around gentleman — Jack Williamson?

Melinda

This entry was posted on Thursday, May 3rd, 2007 at 7:59 am and is filed under writing. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.