Renewal – A Writing Retreat in Jamaica

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Jamaica is where Bliss was born.

I don’t mean just the character from my bestselling debut novel of the same name, but also the book itself. Although I wrote Bliss in the United States, the inspiration for its character and places, its emotion and its conflicts, all came from Jamaica. The book isn’t about an ideal person or an ideal place. Instead, it’s about beauty and struggle, facing the fears within all of us, and it’s about triumph. In short, it is about my island home. This home and its treasures are what I hope to share with those who come to The Renewal Retreat in October of this year.

Even without memory to further stir the coals of creativity, visitors to Jamaica find it to be a place of vibrant traditions, unforgettable artistry, and incomparable inspiration. It isn’t just the beauty of the island, it’s also the country’s rebellious Maroon past, the way incredible wealth sits beside great want, and it’s about dark nights that seem impenetrable until you dare to walk out into them.

The entire world has heard of Bob Marley, Blue Mountain coffee, and of Stella getting her groove back. Allow Kensington, Jamaica to serve as your muse, as your Renewal.

Register for Renewal: http://bit.ly/218X6ps
Make your Deposit for Renewal: http://bit.ly/1VoU3Yu
More information about Renewal: http://bit.ly/22u4FHQ

 

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Of Tampon Strings and Phlegm


Today is my last beach day, or at least it should/could be. I’ve been debating whether or not to get up early tomorrow to watch the sunrise then catch a quick dip before heading to the airport.
In the last couple of days, I’ve been besieged by a cold and a period, dread enemies of travel. Still, I was determined to get in a few hours on Patong Beach and before it got too crowded with jet ski guys and charter boats setting up for business. And of course half of Europe coming down for a swim.
The trick is to apparently hit the beach by around 7 am and get in your fun by 9. It’s 8:42 and where before I had no one near my blanket for dozens of feet, now I have a family of Russians practically reading over my shoulder.
The sun is drying the saltwater from my skin. Once that’s done, off to find food.