Holly Nadler

A Room of Their Own, Vineyard Retreats Helps Writers Develop

They come from all over the country, staying for one or two weeks or up to a full month. They explore Edgartown from their home base at the former Point Way Inn. Some of them work in their rooms, others find a nesting spot in one of the many elegant downstairs parlors. For dinner they might bring home scallops from the Net Result, ingredients for a pasta Siciliana, and share the meal pot-luck style in the formal dining room, which is two stories high and lit up like a stage set.

 

 

 

Here’s a proposed expedition every bit as adventurous (but not nearly as brutal) as Capt. Shackleton’s trek across South Georgia Island: Why not sit down with loved ones and plan to attend every last event being staged over the coming weekend — Dec. 11 to Dec. 13 — of the Christmas In Edgartown extravaganza?

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There’s an old legend about the Vineyard that women who come here grow strong. They may have been strong to begin with, but even so, they grow stronger. A corporate executive might find herself scratching around for new ways to survive, so she adds growing artichokes, opening a candle shop, and writing grants for nonprofits to her resume.

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You step out of the drearily grey yet balmy November day into the cavernous anteroom of the Agricultural Hall in West Tisbury, and you’re confronted with that symbol of country comfort: the black cast-iron soup pot. There are two actually: curried butternut squash or kale, brought to us by Morning Glory Farm. This reporter placed a five-buck bet on the butternut, and took the cup into the enormous hall, sat down, spooned up the ambrosial bisque, and reflected that the festivities spread out before her were more delightful than any event that operates here in the summer.

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It’s irresistible to start this review of Vineyard author Tom Dresser’s new book about the Beatles, It Was 40 Years Ago Today, by saying it’s a Magical Mystery Tour of the Fab Four who Please Pleased [Us] through a Hard Day’s Night lasting six years, spanning the spectrum of I Feel Fine, to wanting to give each other A Ticket to Ride, all of them — and us —– trailing apart in a mood of benediction, Let It Be.

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If you can follow the zigzag path of the second annual Massachusetts Poetry Festival, you could probably make it off the quixotic island featured in the television show Lost without breaking a sweat. It starts with readings in Amherst, roams through Berkshire County, Fall River . . . well, let’s not tax ourselves with geography; the relevant bit for Islanders is that the event touched down in Vineyard Haven last Thursday night, Oct. 15, at the Louisa Gould Gallery, and some of our key Vineyard poets participated with their usual élan.

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