{"id":345,"date":"2020-03-01T15:25:31","date_gmt":"2020-03-01T15:25:31","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/?p=345"},"modified":"2020-03-02T13:16:28","modified_gmt":"2020-03-02T13:16:28","slug":"the-writing-retreat","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/the-writing-retreat\/345\/","title":{"rendered":"The Writing Retreat"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

I glance at the headline of the newspaper folded in my lap, and smile. The plane takes off and the island shrinks into a chocolate-box toytown, surrounded by a champagne sea. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Only a week ago, I hauled my bag up the path that spirals around that cliff. The hotel loomed above me, built into the rocks and incandescent in the sunshine. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

She was by the lift, talking into her phone when I walked\nthrough reception. I recognised her voice immediately: that same grating,\nhigh-pitched lilt. She looked up. A flash of recognition and – was that panic?\nThen she plastered on a smile. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

\u201cVictoria, how are you?\u201d She kissed the air and her perfume\nwafted over me. I recoiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHi, Julia,\u201d I said. We made stilted small-talk until she\nhurried into the lift.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

All week, Julia ingratiated herself with the big names in\nthe literary world. Each morning, clad in designer leggings, she boasted about\nher cliff-top sunrise yoga. Meanwhile, I became renowned for being the last to breakfast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On the Thursday morning, Julia lead a workshop, entitled\n\u201cFinding the Plot.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I gritted my teeth as she was introduced. \u201cPlease welcome bestselling\nauthor of the psychological thriller, \u2018Someone You Know,\u2019 Julia Fieldman!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Our brief was to develop an \u201cinciting incident\u201d for the\ncharacter we created yesterday. Julia asked me to share my idea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBeing wronged by someone and wanting revenge,\u201d I said, eye\ncontact unwavering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Afternoons were for writing or relaxing. I wandered to the\ncliff-top above the hotel. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I sensed someone behind me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBeautiful, isn\u2019t it?\u201d said Julia. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStunning,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We stood in silence for a while.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou never replied to my messages,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cVictoria, your story wasn\u2019t one of the entries I was\njudging. I didn\u2019t even read it. It was just a coincidence that my novel was a\nsimilar theme.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSimilar theme? It was blatant plagiarism! And you ensured\nthat my story wasn\u2019t shortlisted in the competition.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re jealous of my success, and still bearing a grudge about\nSimon,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou think I\u2019m harbouring feelings for some idiot from University\nwho was stupid enough to cheat on me with you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She stormed off. I clenched my fists and screamed into the\nwind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At sunrise, she was on the cliff-edge, performing her sun\nsalutations. I approached unnoticed in the gathering light. She was on her\ntiptoes, reaching upwards with both hands. I touched her shoulder. She\nflinched, stumbled, and fell like a bird taking flight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Twisted on the rocks below, she managed even in death to\nstrike a pose.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Later, there was a nauseating show of sobbing and hugging.\nThe police interviewed everyone, but my reputation as a late riser helped me\nevade suspicion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I re-read the headline, \u201cAuthor in Fatal Fall in Paradise.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGlass of champagne, please,\u201d I say to the airhostess.\n\u201cCheers, Julia,\u201d I whisper under my breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There\u2019s a tapping at the window. I watch open-mouthed as\nthe word \u201cCheers!\u201d forms in the condensation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then the plane plummets to the ground.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I glance at the headline of the newspaper folded in my lap, and smile. The plane takes off and the island shrinks into a chocolate-box toytown, surrounded by a champagne sea. Only a week ago, I hauled my bag up the path that spirals around that cliff. The hotel loomed above me, built into the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":9,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"rop_custom_images_group":[],"rop_custom_messages_group":[],"rop_publish_now":"initial","rop_publish_now_accounts":{"facebook_10158782359051062_103813597863211":"","twitter_1225722811282530305_1225722811282530305":""},"rop_publish_now_history":[],"rop_publish_now_status":"pending","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[121,185],"tags":[190,189],"class_list":["post-345","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-121","category-the-island","tag-retreat","tag-writing"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pbrNJE-5z","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/345","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/9"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=345"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/345\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":355,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/345\/revisions\/355"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=345"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=345"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=345"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}