I started out an unbeliever, but by the following Saturday morning I stood outside my hotel on Palestine Avenue, at the Chautauqua Institute, with tears in my eyes. They were tears of sadness at the thought of leaving this beautiful place and all my newfound friends. But, there were also tears of joy at the person I had become and the unforgettable friendships I had forged in one short week. It proved to be a week of miracles.

My Journey:

Day One

I was scared to death, as I stood frozen in front of the colossal 12-foot-tall pocket doors of the Hotel Athenaeum that first night. Having stopped to help someone in an accident on the way, I was late for the opening banquet. The huge and seemingly immovable doors were closed. Once again, I was being challenged to push past my self-doubt and fear.

I could hear the clanging of plates and the ping of silverware on the other side, mingled with the chatter of voices—writers’ voices. Like the Cowardly Lion in the Wizard of Oz, I wanted to run and hide. Who am I anyway? Just a middle-aged, small-town woman with no books to my publishing credit. What was I thinking signing up for something so unreachable?

The doors loomed larger now as my heart pounded in my chest, shaking me from head to toe.

This is ridiculous, Nancy. You came here to learn. You came here to fulfill your dream to become a children’s writer. If you turn back now, you might as well kiss the dream good-bye.

I placed my fingertips in the hollow latch and gave a tiny, half-hearted pull. Nothing. The door didn’t even budge. I’m missing it all. Everyone is going on without me. I want in!

This time, I positioned both hands on the latches and gave a mighty shove. A glimpse through the tiny opening revealed a sea of faces and a deafening din of a hundred diners gaily conversing. Servers hustled back and forth with pitchers of lemonade and water. My knees shook as my eyes darted back and forth, scanning for an empty seat.

As luck would have it, I found a place between two older children of faculty members for the scrumptious prime rib and scallops dinner. They were more than kind and filled me in on all I had missed. I discovered throughout the week that this helpful spirit was typical of all faculty members and their families.

As the evening came to a close, we filed outside. Night had set in, and with it came the realization that I was lost. I had no idea where my hotel was much less how to get there. I felt silly, alone, and very scared. After stumbling around, I was rescued by two Highlights Foundation faculty members. Little did I know that angels such as they would be hovering close by all week.


Day Two

Sunday’s elaborate brunch at the Athenaeum was followed by a presentation of the Highlights for Children magazine’s philosophy.

Here I learned the background of the Myers/Brown connection. Dr. Garry Cleveland Myers and Caroline Myers, who founded the magazine in 1946, were the grandparents of the Highlights Foundation Director, Kent Brown.

The Myerses had extensive experience in teaching, child-development research, and editing for another children’s publication before they teamed up to develop the best children’s publication available. Their purpose was to help kids grow to be thoughtful and literate citizens. “Fun with a Purpose®” was, and continues to be, the headline on each copy.

This presentation gave me a first-hand look at their submission process. Learning about the care given to each manuscript sparked a strong desire for me to “make it” into one of the magazine’s issues. After all these years, Highlights for Children remains a prestigious publication with the best interest of children at heart.

Next on the schedule we enjoyed a social hour followed by a chicken barbecue at the summer home of David Brown, Kent’s brother, in Westfield, New York. Here, the Browns shared their home, their hearth, and their coveted blueberry and raspberry patches.

Rain poured down all day, but spirits were not dampened as guest speakers Eileen and Jerry Spinelli, two prolific authors of children’s books, coached us on the joys and pitfalls of writing. These afternoon hours brought more networking and fellowship among the conferees and faculty.

But it was here, at this soggy fest, that I learned just how many of these writers had already been published. Once again, I felt less adequate, and more cautious as I tried to conceal my “loser” identity. I had files of rejection letters at home and not one book contract to my name.

Jerry Spinelli’s words echoed in my head, “Just keep going! People think we have thick hides, but every rejection hurts. Just remember, the sun still comes up the next day. So take the mourning time, then resubmit.” Would I have the courage to keep going?

Sunday night, after meeting as a group with our mentor for a delicious ice cream at the Refectory, we were left to our own devices. I attended a service at the Amphitheater entitled “Chautauqua Prays for Peace.” As I devoted my thoughts to prayers for world peace, I gained perspective on my recent encounters. The service ended with the lighting of candles, after which I returned to my hotel. Without a guide this time.

Day Three

Up at 6:00 a.m. and ready by 7:30. This was the drill for the week. Today’s General Session featured a presentation by the charismatic Peter Jacobi. Peter’s name came up countless times as one of the rocks of the Foundation. Today I discovered why. This captivating man loves children and cherishes humor, music, and writers as the gatekeepers of children’s hearts. Through his eyes we gathered a glimpse of the awesome responsibility we have as authors for the young.

Roundtable discussions were held outdoors in the Hall of Philosophy every lunch hour. They were optional, but who in their right mind would turn down a chance to meet with Larry Pringle, famed science writer, or Andrew Gutelle, Emmy nominee for his work on the Reading Rainbow TV series, or to learn about Living La Vida Freelance with veteran writer Andrea Early? I, for one, didn’t miss a thing.

Day Four

After a nearly sleepless night, I awoke to the realization that today I was to conduct an interview with Kent Brown.

Kent told of the early days and how his vision was fostered by the incredible strength and dedication of a few believers. He credited Ed Keating, the Chautauqua gatekeeper, for getting the first conference up and running.

When the administration at Chautauqua said it couldn’t be planned in less than three years, Mr. Keating pressed on. Because of his tireless devotion, one year later the first Chautauqua Highlights Writers Conference was held with seventy-four conferees in attendance.

The Keating Scholarship, for aspiring children’s writers in Chautauqua County, is a memorial to this beloved man. Scholarships for the conference are plentiful, with twenty-four given this year alone.

Kent, who said that during his youth he was “a frequent visitor and hellion at the Institution,” spoke of the magic of Chautauqua. He waxed poetic about the greenery, the quiet beauty, the spirit of the Chautauqua Institute and, of course, the ice cream! He knew in his heart that the environment of Chautauqua would nurture greatness in writers.

He credited much of the initial success to famed author Lois Lowry, who attracted many writers to the conference. Lois, along with other prolific writers such as Larry Pringle, Peter Jacobi, and Dayton O. Hyde, set the tone of cooperation that continues today. Faculty members make themselves readily available and spend much of their time mingling and attending sessions right along with the conferees. Kent explained, “Everyone is a writer. Everyone is learning.”

The Foundation shares a warm and wonderful relationship with the community and the Institute. The conferees benefit from the spirit of Chautauqua, and the people on the grounds are allowed to audit classes. In addition, the featured authors volunteer to speak and hold book signings at local county libraries. “This year is the twentieth Anniversary of the Highlights Foundation Writers Workshop, and we credit Chautauqua with much of the success we have experienced. We hope to encourage the writing of children’s books that will make a difference in children’s lives 100 years from now,” said Kent.

By late day, I moved beyond the achy state to sheer agony. My blistered feet no longer functioned, and I had a killer cramp in my hand from taking copious notes.

We were scheduled for a bus ride to Jamestown for dinner and a tour at the Roger Tory Peterson Institute of Natural History, which would involve a long trek to the Main Gate. Would my feet and legs cooperate?

Following the recommendation of a friend, I called Chautauqua’s St. Elmo Spa. One hour later, after a foot message and pedicure, my feet were pretty and pedestrian once more.

Day Five

After my first solid night’s sleep, I awoke to a wonderful discovery. My blistered feet had become calloused overnight. The pain was gone. I immediately began to identify with Tree Ear, the main character in Linda Sue Park’s A Single Shard. Tree Ear’s young, tender hands were cut, bruised, and bleeding in his attempt to achieve his dreams. Stubbornly refusing to quit, he worked on until his hands became calloused and tough. Along with the ability to persevere, Tree Ear gained a newfound sense of self-respect.

I was now Tree-Ear. I had earned my calluses, too. I still wasn’t sure that I was “writer” material, but now I was determined that I would not give up. I would stay the course for the rest of the week. After all, I had already amazed myself by surviving five days without my car, the Internet, or microwave popcorn. What would I learn next?

This day was definitely the turning point for me. The morning speaker was none other than Newbery Award-winner Sharon Creech, author of Walk Two Moons. As if speaking directly to me, Sharon confided, in front of the whole assembly, her fears and her deep discouragement at the beginning of her first Highlights conference. She was sure she wasn’t author material and even considered giving up and going home.

When my turn came at her autograph table, I started to cry. Looking up, her eyes filling with compassion, Sharon Creech stood, hugged me tight, and whispered, “Don’t give up, Nancy.” I will never forget that day. She was yet another of the many angels I encountered during this soul-altering week.

Throughout the course of the day, faculty members seemed to be there whenever I needed new direction or instruction. Giving up lunchtime, free time, and going the extra mile was the norm for these staff members. During lunch, the marketing director of Highlights offered to brainstorm new ideas for my writing business. Another author spent the free afternoon hour with me to give me clues on point of view in my manuscript. I had found some very special friends by this time who reported similar acts of kindness bestowed upon them by the faculty and staff.

Day Six

When I awoke on day six, I was an author.

I purposely seated myself in classrooms beside famous authors just as eager to learn about the perfection of their craft as I was. More than individual stars, Chautauqua was now about teams of authors, myself included, coming together as brilliant constellations. By this light, I would be able to chart a new course in my own literary career.

I welcomed any and all suggestions in my next manuscript critique session, grateful for each comment. I was ready to soak up every tip like a sponge. The words of encouragement from my manuscript reader and my mentors spurred me on.

That night I experienced a bit of a depression after the auction to raise money for the scholarship fund. I was beginning to feel the letdown of knowing that we were near the end. I could barely stand the thought of losing contact with all these wonderful people. I called the hotel room of two of my dearest new Highlights friends, and we walked to the lake. Out on the dock we laughed and ducked the swooping bats as they flew by. The bell tower gonged and the sparkling lights on the lake seemed to wink the message Everything’s going to be all right. Just trust in yourself.

Day Seven

Oh, dear, how will I ever remember all that I have learned this week? Please, don’t tell me anything new. My brain is already on overload. After the morning sessions, I took a break; hopping on my bike, I toured the campus. Seeing Chautauqua roll by as I pedaled along was a delight. I rode for an hour, savoring every inch of the campus and gaining a brighter perspective as I wrestled with the realization that this week was nearly over.

Today, for the Wrap-up session, we competed in the Writers’ Olympics. We were split into four groups. Each group made up a cheer and appointed four speakers to share one highlight from the week. In the words of Floyd Cooper, noted illustrator and fellow team member, we were, ‘Hot, hot, hot.’”

As I was packing to leave, I reviewed the events of the entire conference in my mind. The week of hard work had caused a great change within me. This total immersion—eating, sleeping, and breathing writing for seven days straight—was a slice of heaven. The growth I felt both mentally and spiritually strengthened my conviction to write. I had gained access not only to the gatekeepers of creativity in children’s writing, but to newfound levels of self-confidence, perseverance, and resilience.

After our closing banquet, I glanced out at the long dock in front of the Athenaeum. There were hundreds of sailboats bobbing and swaying in the waves. The sailboats appeared to be anchored but actively anxious to move on, much like me. It was time to go home and write!

I am still in a state of awe when I think about my week with the Highlights Writers Workshop at Chautauqua. It was one of the best things I have ever done for my writing career. I had been told something special happens to every person who attends this conference. I went hoping for some great tips on writing for children, and along the way, I also found the self-confident, delightful child that still lives in me. This line from Eileen Spinelli’s poem “The Writing Angel” says it best: “May she whisper how brave and gifted and unique you are until you believe it.”