Experimental Writing Group

By Polly Story-Lebl (US)

The IWAP Experimental Writing Group started in Spring of 2017 and our first meeting was in a pub in Vinohrady. I remember our first prompt was timed for 30 minutes and was to write about our first childhood friend to break the ice. The connection with each of the writers was immediate and we all seemed to feel safe with the others in sharing our stories. Since then we have experimented with writing in different venues – such as a tea shop full of Hookah smoke to sitting outside the summer circus festival as a way to get our creative juices going.

Although this past year presented us with a new challenge of writing and sharing over zoom meetings we wrote on and it gave us some reprieve from the shut down world around us.

A few members have come and gone but our core group continues to develop our own styles. Each meeting we write to a different prompt and yet our international uniqueness highlights our individual voices.

Below is a lovely example of a different task we tried which was to do a relay writing where each person would continue off the previous person’s story. We hope you enjoy it as much as we did writing the story.

March 18, 2021 – IWAP Writing Group

Polly:

The bright sun hit her face as she sat at the long empty wooden table and closed her eyes. She didn’t sleep well the night before but it was too early in the morning to take a nap. Her mind drifted back to a time when that very same kitchen table was full of women. Her husband often referred to her sleepovers with her circle of women as the ‘Coven’. He would slink around the house but knew he was banned from their gatherings. In later years he was banned from staying in the house at all. A smile crossed her soft wrinkled face as she remembered how many women have sat at the table over the years.

Angeliki:

She often wondered whether her husband had sometimes been jealous of her circle of women. He himself was never short of friends, whom he met weekly for a night in the pub. Still it was not the same and she was sure he knew it. He knew that many of the women who had sat at the kitchen table had often taken their souls out and placed them naked on that table, for everyone to see. But what do men know about naked souls?

She remembered arriving in the foreign country that was meant to become home for them. In her mid twenties, one toddler in her arms and another child in her belly. “ God, please give me the power to bear with all the loneliness that lies ahead of me”, she had prayed.

Bonnie:

They settled into their new flat, braved the Ikea maze to decorate it, and deciphered enough products in the supermarket to prepare somewhat familiar meals. The daily routines gave her a sense of control, maybe even security. But where would she find the ease of friendship, the circle of women that were so vital to her soul? She longed for friends who would keep her secrets, make her laugh, and steer her through the many twists and turns of this exciting but alien adventure. Not just in getting used to this new culture, but also in bonding with other young mothers who were also entrusted with these little, precious lives. Children.

Veronica:

Life in Sweden, with the prospect of bringing her children up without their grandparents and without the social network she had had back in Prague, was no picnic. Her husband writing his political articles was unreachable being a bit nervous and jumpy about his new job. She felt alone. She recalled it now as the loneliest time in her life.

But the turn came when she had returned to that novel IKEA warehouse- that sunny day in 1951, when the store had just announced its first sale. The family would need a dining table. She entered the store. Many of the items seemed industrial, bereft of history and even a bit clumsy. She stood for a long time wondering if she would ever find a decent table, and then she heard someone talk in Czech. She knew the founder of IKEA had Czech relatives, but to hear her mother tongue in the middle of nowhere (this was her sense of Swedish countryside) was overwhelming. This is when she met Martha and her whole life turned around.

Judy:

This chance meeting with Martha was certainly the beginning of a new chapter for her. A strong friendship ensued, the Swedish /Czech chance was like falling into a comfort zone for her. Martha also had children of similar ages. From that fateful first meeting new friendships developed with Martha’s help she had found a now, much loved, new pinewood table. On purchase she wondered if this new table would, at some point, be filled with her friends on lonely evenings filled with laughter and the baring of souls. Several years passed and as Martha had introduced her to the international Women Club in Gothenburg, the new kitchen table hosted many evenings of laughter whilst indulging in shrimps and herring being washed down with many a bottle of wine. Most of her friends had husbands in high-flying jobs so they were always away and the girls were free to play.

All was well with the world. Children were happy and she was starting to love living in Sweden enjoying its food, traditions and the seasonal celebrations. But then, by chance, Sven arrived on the scene and her life took a complicated turn, on the horizon lingered a dark cloud.

Mila:

Sven was an intelligent young man that was always looking for opportunity. He came from a Swedish humble background. His mother brought up his sister and him on her own and his father liked his alcohol. Sven loved his mother, but did not like his father. It was only later in his life that he realized that he actually likes his father as well. Sven’s father was a difficult person to deal with. It was hard to trust him. He left Sven’s mother alone with 2 children. It was no wonder that Sven’s mother was a complicated person.

Sven was thought of as an intelligent young man who studied hard and managed to get a scholarship to do his Masters in Germany, which he successfully completed, but found it difficult to get a decent job after that. He always had some charm and managed to enchant women. He lived with different women in Germany and later in the Czech Republic. He helped women with households and children, but was jobless and had no income. He always relied on his partners to put the bacon on the table. One day while living in the Czech Republic he learned that his father died. He was so sad to hear that horrible news that he turned to like his alcohol like his father. Keepers of the flame. But now Sven wanted to become a father himself and it was not happening. He could not find the right person to have a child with as he drank a lot. His previous partners couldn’t get pregnant. So one is wondering why, was it always the fault of the women that he didn’t become a father?

Petra:

After several years of surviving on dependency to alcohol and experiencing often states of unconsciousness as a result of his extreme consumption of this liquid, made an extraordinary experience. Absolutely exhausted and after one of his wild nights during which he had been again drinking too much, after that he was absolutely disoriented and did not know how it happened that he woke up in front of one church. Suddenly, he was feeling that somebody touching his arm and hearing the voice asking him: `Sir, are you well? You cannot lie there on the stairs. It is too cold. Are you able to stand up?´ The hand of the comforting priest helped him to an upright position. Being so weak and feeble and battling between the dreaming state and perception of reality he observed himself how he was following this priest through the corridor in the monastery and reaching the small door leading towards the room for guests.

Helen:

Sven slept through that first night until almost midday. A monk knocked on the door and told him he could get coffee and rolls in the small kitchen down the corridor. He found the priest in an office between the monastery and the adjacent church and learned he could stay as long as he liked if he worked in the vegetable garden where the monks grew their produce and helped prepare meals in the kitchen. The priest sought him out every day and walked and talked with him in the orchard and slowly Sven began to recover both his physical and inner strength. One afternoon he ventured into the church and saw a woman placing some flowers on the altar.

She stepped back to admire her arrangement, turning around as she heard the footsteps behind her and looked at the young man walking towards her. She stared as their eyes met. He reminded her so much of Petr with his wavy blond hair and brown eyes. Petr had been her first love before she’d met her husband. He had the soul of a poet, loved music and had composed songs for her. He had such a sense of humour and had made her laugh. He had such zest for life and loved Nature – together they had spent weekends in the mountains where they’d hiked the trails in summer and skied the slopes in winter. She had loved him passionately until he disappeared on a climbing adventure in the Himalayas and had grieved until she thought her heart would break. Time had healed the pain and she’d moved on in her life, burying the past deep inside herself, but now as she looked into the troubled eyes of the stranger standing before her, all the memories came flooding back.

Jen:

Overcome by the title wave of emotions, she collapsed into the pew to regain her composure. Sven, seeing this woman in distress was unsettled and it was that moment a vision of his future materialized. He would no longer succumb to the bottle but dedicate his life to helping those in need. Armed with his newfound dedication, he rushed to the woman’s aid.

Sitting next to her, holding her hand and listening to her tale of Petr moved him in ways he never realized possible. The compassion for this woman’s long lost love made him wonder if there was any way he could help her find closure.

The next day, he packed his rucksack and headed to the train station to set off for the Himalayan base camps to inquire about the woman’s long lost love, Petr. As he settled into his seat for the long journey, he began to plot his course of investigation. Would someone remember him? Could he still be alive? Drowning out the monotonous clicking of the train rushing towards India, Sven, lost in his fantasy of seeing the woman reunited with Petr, did not notice the dark figure sitting across from him staring deeply into his soul.

The relay writing was really fun and interesting as we changed course from one writer to the next. I started it off with something completely different in mind. In fact, my imagination began with my Mother’s kitchen table. I shared our relay with her and this is what she wrote back.

Dear Polly,

Your reminding me of the COVEN brought back so many happy memories. Sitting around the kitchen table with Aunt Barbara, Agnes, and Kathy smoking, drinking wine, and laughing. I remember we were singing songs from the Musicals we loved like Oklahoma, My Fair Lady, Carousel and many more. And you and Bridget were heading out the door for some party or other when Bridget said “Polly, what kind of songs will we be singing when we are that old?” Like remember that guitar riff and she made the sounds of that and drums and realized that you guys didn’t have near the number of tunes we were belting out.

I’m so glad you and Bridget got to be part of our Sister Reunions down the seashore. I wish you had been here for the grand reunion at the ranch. Bridget managed a couple of days.

The trailer house was between renters so I cleaned it out for Dad to stay in while all us girls had the house to ourselves. What fun we had, seemed like we never stopped laughing. Except for one night we were celebrating our Mother’s Birthday, September 11th. In fact we made her favorite meal for dinner. The moon was full and Aunt Nan had her arm around me as we remembered our Mother. The rest of the girls came out to the porch for a moment of silence and a few tears, then back to laughing.

Thanks for the memories.
Love, Mom

ps. Now I also remember Dad had a heart attack about a week after they left.
Whoops! I hadn’t paid too much attention to him…obviously