Our Rivendell

Right. So, this might be reckless, but I'll just go ahead and dive in to this blog.

For those of you OYANers who went to Summer Workshop 2013, you might remember Mark Wilson's talk on Rivendell. How it was Frodo's home-away-from-home, his resting place, his house of rejuvenation. After coming home from SW this year, that seminar has only deepened in meaning for me.

When I was seven or eight, my thoughts of Kansas were Dorothy and Toto and the wonderful Wizard of Oz. When I was twelve or thirteen, my thoughts of Kansas were Tornado Alley and the awesome destruction that could rip through that area. But at fourteen, when I first arrived at MNU, I could see a whole new horizon opening up in front of me. I entered the main hall, staring dazedly around at the cloaks and costumes, the geeks and glasses, the pencils and pages. I turned to my mother, tears of some emotion that I can't describe welling in my eyes, and choked out, "I have found my people." And they really are my people. The writers of OYAN are my kinsmen. Forever after I would associate Kansas with the Workshop.

But that's not quite right.

Yes, MNU is where we gather. This is the campus where we laugh, we write, we hug, we cry. This is the campus where OYAN converges. But MNU is not the Rivendell. Kansas is not the Rivendell. Indeed, no specific place is our Rivendell. Think about it. If I went back there now, it would be nothing like the wonderful place I've come to know it as. It would be devoid of OYANers and thus devoid of what makes it my Rivendell.

It's the people, you see.

The people are what make the Summer Workshop such a wonderful place. The fellowship I feel in the presence of OYANers stays the same whether I am meeting with James (doombuggy) here in San Diego or Saka (Asakawa Meiyo) in Oklahoma or with the couple hundred individuals in Kansas. Much like Sam. He marvelled over Rivendell, not necessarily because it was a beautiful place, though it most certainly was, because there were Elves. The wise, jolly, mysterious creatures that were first on Arda, the ones that Illuvatar woke in the beginning, the creatures that would live on forever. They fascinated Sam. That's a major reason he loved Rivendell.

That's the reason I love Summer Workshop. Y'all fascinate me.

There's another allegory to be taken from Lord of the Rings: a place of recuperation. Every time I leave SW, I find my fingers itching to write, my head pounding with ideas, my eyes already seeing the characters and scenes spelled out before me. I gain energy and momentum, advice and critiques. It enables me to go on in this dull, unexciting, and painfully nonfictional world. After spending time with people I relate to on such a deep level, I lose my voice from laughing but regain my passion from fellowship. The people who don't understand (Dear God. What's it like in their funny little brains? It must be so boring!) are the ones we have to spend the most time around out in real life, but that was what Frodo went through, too. He went into Rivendell distressed and beaten down, even poked with a sword, but he came out strong, determined, and prepared to face the difficult people and arduous journey ahead of him.

After returning home, I cry and feel depressed from leaving my people. But I also feel lighter. I have been armed with critiques, nourished with fellowship, healed with laughter, armoured by teaching, fired by likemindedness.

There is one last point I will draw. I touched on it earlier: it's the people who make SW so amazing. But it's deeper than that. The one line that I remember from Mark's lecture last year is, "You are the Elves of Rivendell."

And we really are.

I dunno about you other OYANers, but I make it no secret that I'm a writer and proud. The people who have been exposed to me for unhealthily extended periods of time--aka, my friends--have told me that they love the fact I write. They enjoy brainstorming with me and learning that I've borrowed a quirk or character trait from them to insert in my book. They admire my (frankly pathetic) drawings of imagined scenes or people and their suggestions are some of the best I've heard.

In other words, we bring a piece of Rivendell wherever we go, simply because we are the Elves.

I apologise for this excessively long blurble. Those of you who haven't been to SW, or aren't even OYANers, feel free to totally ignore this. But I had to get it written out. Thanks for reading to the end.

~Kancala What'sherface