The Writing Retreat

Content Warning: This section explores violent, abusive, sexual, and occult subject matter. For the sake of accuracy, it also replicates obscenities and explicit sexual language.

“True, I hadn’t seen Wren since that awful day—her birthday, nearly a year ago now. Sure, I’d stalked her social media, watching as her beauty editor job had earned her a blue check mark. I’d seen her style change, her dark bangs go blunt instead of choppy, her growing proclivity for designer jackets. I couldn’t comprehend seeing her in person; it’d be like confronting a ghost who’d come back to life.”

Alex, the first-person narrator, worries about running into her ex-best friend at a party. It is clear from her quasi-stalking behavior that Alex has not made her peace with the relationship: She still has feelings for Wren. Alex’s description of Wren as a “ghost” is also a form of foreshadowing, as ghost stories and ghostwriting play a central role in advancing the novel’s plot.

“Vallo’s two latest books, ‘Polar Star’ and ‘Maiden Pink,’ are formed around similar themes: changing bodies, the constant whisper of death, the thrill and brutality in sexuality, the intimate connections between women.”

This quotation comes from an article Alex reads about Roza Vallo, the famous author whose retreat she will be attending. The themes that capture Roza’s attention double as the themes of this novel, too. As such, they can be interpreted as a metafictional gesture.

“‘I just find writer relationships fascinating.’ Roza leaned forward. ‘I was with a writer, once. We were always butting heads, each of us convinced that we were the real genius. Did you ever feel that way?’”

This exchange takes place during Roza’s ad hoc interview with author Jett Butler, wherein she exposes his theft of someone else’s story. The identity of the wronged writer is unclear. Plausible candidates include Taylor (the actual author of Roza’s book, Maiden Pink, and Roza’s current girlfriend) and Mila (who happens to be the actual author of Rosa’s novel, Devil’s Tongue, as well as her former girlfriend). Roza’s accusation that Jett appropriated the work of his former girlfriend are a form of dramatic irony, as the text later shows her to be engaged in exactly the same kind of literary theft.

“Every minute that passed meant one fewer minute before seeing Roza—which was overwhelmingly exciting—and Wren—incredibly horrifying. It was so strange to balance the two, and they both revved up my system, causing a fluttering in my chest.”

The conflicting and overwhelming emotions expressed here speak to the nature of Alex’s character in general. She is prone to exaggeration and, while she may not admit it, drawn to extreme emotions. This puts her character firmly in the cast of Gothic conventions, wherein emotions are heightened and heroines are easily frightened.

“Eventually, Daphne claimed to connect with a female demon named Lamia who asked Daphne to channel a ‘Great Commission’ that would bring knowledge and wisdom to humankind. Daphne took this commission on, even though Florence and Abigail tried to dissuade her, believing that it would cause her to go mad.”

The Writing Retreat’s narrative integrates excerpts from numerous other imaginary books. This excerpt comes from a biography that Alex is reading as research for her own novel, which she eventually entitles The Great Commission. Daphne’s mission reverberates with Alex’s personal mission as a writer: In a sense, both women take on Lamia’s “Great Commission.” Daphne uses her artistic talents for drawing and writing to express channeled demonic messages, while Alex writes to serve the spirit of art—and Roza’s murderous intentions for those at her high-stakes writing retreat. Thus, Lamia’s demonic “Great Commission” can be interpreted as an inverted reference to the New Testament (Matthew 28:16-20), in which a resurrected Jesus Christ gives his disciples a “Great Commission” to bring new believers to God by spreading a message of peace and salvation.

“‘So,’ Roza went on, squeezing my hands. ‘Now you’re dead, trapped in the underworld. You feel empty, stuck. And you know what? It’s actually the most powerful place to be. You need only reach out to the pain and grab it, use it. But if you don’t?’ Her expression turned mournful. ‘Well, then you’ll stay dead. And in effect she’ll be killing you twice. I don’t know if you can come back from that, dear. I really don’t.’”

Roza suggests that, when Wren cut Alex out of her life, she effectively killed off the old Alex. Like a phoenix, Alex can rise from these ashes, remaking herself using her own power and talent, or she can succumb to Wren’s psychological control. As Daphne, Alex’s character, is reborn at the end of The Great Commission, so too will Alex come back to herself in The Writing Retreat. There is also a connection here to epic literary conventions, which require a narrative’s the hero to visit—and return from—the underworld as part of their journey.

“I hadn’t felt this—the sparkling sense of inspiration—for a long time. The energy felt volatile, almost sexual.”

Alex feels this right after she begins writing The Great Commission. She has been suffering from writer’s block ever since she and Wren dissolved their friendship. But in unburdening her story to Roza, Alex has finally broken through that obstruction. There is also something compelling, even alluring, about Alex’s story itself. The connection between creative inspiration and sexual fruition is not incidental. It is only after Alex comes to terms with her sexual identity that she live up to her full creative potential.

“I already felt like an outsider. I grew up in an extremely conservative area and stayed closeted for a long time. I wished for some secret power, something to make my alienation make sense.”

Taylor connects with Alex by confessing details about her past. Alex has always felt like an outsider herself, though she has long chalked this feeling up to her lack of a father figure and her frequent relocations as a child; it may also have something to do with her innate sexual orientation. Significantly, both women seek to alleviate their feelings of societal alienation through reading and writing, which allows them to vicariously fulfill fantasies and create other worlds. However, Taylor later betrays Alex and the others. The Writing Retreat hence suggests that reading and writing alone are insufficient to heal certain psychological wounds.

“Daphne hid a smile. Of course these women, wealthy from birth and unencumbered by a husband, didn’t understand. They pretended to feel upset about the state of society, about the second-class citizenship of women—women with the same pallor of skin, at least. But they didn’t know hardship. They’d never gone hungry, or had to kill rats under their beds with a fire poker, or had silently borne a man’s weight as he pumped in and out, scraping their insides, making them bleed.”

Alex’s character, Daphne, expresses many of the feelings that Alex herself has kept pent up. Daphne desires power: She is tired of remaining under the control of the patriarchy and the socioeconomic hierarchy. She will use Lamia as the means by which she takes back her own power of self-determination—just as Alex will do, vicariously.

“I was curious because I’ve heard that old-timey spiritualism was all just a way for women to gain power. Which is pretty fucked-up. That in order to have a voice they had to pretend to channel someone else’s.”

Taylor asks Alex if she believes that the historical Daphne actually believed in Lamia’s existence, or if she made the demon up and thus played a charlatan. Historically speaking, women did fabricate their abilities as mediums or spiritualists in order to gain power and respect. As Taylor astutely suggests, this allowed them to have a voice in situations where society might otherwise force them to remain silent. Ironically, the text later reveals that Taylor has relinquished her own storytelling voice to Roza, in order to bolster Roza’s fame and fortune.

“‘But my goal is to make you better.’ Roza’s smile dropped away. ‘The process is not always enjoyable or easy. In fact, it can—and should—be very painful. I’ve noticed that as we reach our midpoints, we’re all feeling much too comfortable. We’re not taking risks. We’re not pushing ourselves. We need to go deeper. We need to let go.’”

This comment underscores Roza’s conviction that great writing must be accompanied by great suffering. She makes this pronouncement just after confessing to her retreat participants that she has, without their consent, spiked their punch with hallucinogenic drugs. This is the first clue that Roza’s writing retreat is not what it was publicly advertised to be, and that Roza herself is more unhinged than her public image would suggest.

“And still I kissed her back. I longed to be consumed. There came the distinct thought that I might not survive this encounter. And that would be okay. Wonderful, in fact. Sex was life and death itself, and both were the same, really, just two sides of the same coin.”

While Alex is in the grip of her drug-induced hallucination, she believes that she is having sex with the demoness Lamia. She discovers later that, in fact, she had sex with Taylor. Both Taylor and Roza function as “real life” counterparts of Lamia, who is by now the antagonist of Alex’s novel in progress. The unholy trinity of Lamia, Taylor, and Roza further develops the connection between sex and death, the idea of creation and rebirth, the infinite cycle of life.

“Just hours earlier a very alive Poppy had been pulling me along, determined to show me something. What had she said?

‘She’s not who she claims to be.’”

After Poppy goes missing, Alex returns to the basement to search for clues. Poppy had taken her there while they were both under the influence of drugs. Poppy clearly believes that Alex is an ally in a search for the truth. But what truth? Alex eventually figures out that Poppy was trying to expose Roza’s amoral and immoral activities: Roza is most definitely not “who she claims to be.” Then again, neither is Zoe Canard—the real name of the woman going by “Poppy.” The revelation of Poppy/Zoe’s double identity thus foreshadows the disclosure of Roza’s twisted double life as a plagiarizer and murderer.

“The new uncertainties were making me feel hot and prickly, like I had a full-body sunburn. But nothing was what it seemed in Blackbriar. For all I knew, Wren and I were the only ones who weren’t a part of this, some kind of sick Roza reality show.”

The success of Roza’s scheme depends on her ability to turn the participants against one another. Taylor is her embedded spy, while Poppy/Zoe deceives the others about Roza’s true identity and intentions. It is not too difficult to believe that Keira, too, might be part of the plan, along with Roza’s staff, Yana and Chitra. Blackbriar Estate, with its mysterious and sinister past, adheres to Gothic conventions by imposing feelings of awe and foreboding on visitors. Within this tangled web, Alex’s knowledge that Wren would never be involved with serious wrongdoing remains a touchstone of dependable certainty. Although Roza works hard to pit Alex against Wren, she is ultimately unsuccessful.

“‘Okay,’ I said out loud. This was discombobulating. This was like half-believing in magic and then finding yourself hovering off the floor.”

In an homage to the adventures of Lucy Pevensie (from C. S. Lewis’s classic Chronicles of Narnia), Alex finds a secret passageway to a hidden room at the back of Roza’s wardrobe. Alex’s delight and excitement over her discovery show that, even as an adult, she retains a childlike desire to believe in magic, fantasy, and other kinds of make-believe. Realistically, the sensation of “magic” that Alex experiences here derive from her willingness to temporarily suspend her own disbelief in the improbable. This is a common character trope across the fantasy, mystery, horror, and science-fiction genres.

“I grabbed my phone and took pictures, trying to steady my shaking hands. I’d prepared myself for a game. For surveillance, even. But this went far beyond. There was no way Roza could spin this outside Blackbriar’s walls.”

Blackbriar is a place of secrets and misdeeds, loath to allow anyone to escape its sepulchral orbit. Despite her hopes to expose it, Alex morally implicates herself by allows Roza’ secrets and misdeeds to remain concealed. Blackbriar’s corrupting powers thus extend beyond its physical borders, for it continues to exert influence over former inhabitants even after they have left its premises.

“In another world, it could have been a momentous experience. Because I had connected with Taylor during our one-on-one conversations. There had been a true spark of attraction between us, even if I’d been too scared to handle it at the time. And if Roza hadn’t drugged us, our basement hookup could’ve been a life-changing sexual experience. It could’ve showed me the truth, that it was time to admit to—to celebrate—the fact that I was attracted to certain women.”

The fact that her sexual experience with Taylor takes place under the influence of hallucinogens allows Alex to underplay its significance, but only for a time. Alex is slowly accepting that she harbors sexual feelings for women. Describing them as something worthy of celebration marks a sea change in her own self-understanding.

“There is some special alchemy that requires me to be the face of the books, some mythology that continues to grow around me. Thankfully, more and more have been offering up their works voluntarily.”

Roza has fully subscribed to her own mythology: that she is a Svengali-like presence, bewitching other writers into relinquishing their own masterpieces to her. At first, she had to kill in order to acquire their precious manuscripts. Now that her legend has coalesced, though, she only has to manipulate and blackmail her way into others’ works. Her hubris will also be her downfall—or will it? Roza does escape, after all.

“Roza would’ve expected me to leave Wren behind. She thought that she knew me, that we were similar in this way: the unending need to survive. Not just to survive, but to win.”

At some point in any coming-of-age story, an apprentice must reject their master and embrace their own identity. For Alex, this is that moment. Though she longs to follow in the footsteps of her mentor, Roza, Alex is unwilling to sacrifice others for the sake of success (or even survival). Unlike Roza, Alex is not a sociopathic egoist.

“Roza had tried at every turn to stoke my resentment. And it felt good to fight a larger-than-life villain. But it wasn’t that simple. Wren and I were both fallible, imperfect, sometimes cruel people. Wren had hurt me throughout our friendship, but I’d allowed it, because then she was the Bad Witch and I was the Good Witch.”

Again, Roza’s intention to pit Alex against Wren fails. As the trials of the book mature her, Alex realizes that neither she nor Wren are villains or heroes. Rather, they are both flawed characters who must resolve their differences with honesty and humility. Alex finally recognizes her passive-aggressive role in the friendship’s dissolution.

“‘So here’s my proposition.’ She straightened. ‘You will survive the fire that will take everyone else. And you’ll publish your book under your own name. We could probably get it out by spring.’ She mused, staring into the distance. ‘Again, I’ll need collateral to make sure you keep your mouth shut. I’ll need to record it. But I’ll make it easy for you.’”

Alex briefly wonders whether she could justify Roza’s proposed treachery against Wren as an act of self-defense. When Alex nevertheless rejects this Faustian bargain, she demonstrates the extent of her own character growth. At the beginning of the narrative, Alex was insecure and unable to trust her own instincts; by the end, she has the confidence to trust that she will find a way to write the end of her own story.

“She ushered us out like sheep. And we were like sheep. I felt so weak—from lack of food, the constant fear, and now this fun surprise—that it was all I could do to keep upright. Moving through the kitchen and hall, smelling clean, wearing clothes, reminded me of the early days. When all that mattered was winning the contest. When Wren had been my biggest threat.”

This moment demonstrates Alex’s capacity for self-deception. What Alex fails to recognize is that she is moving seamlessly from the one being threatened into the threat itself. Upon her return to Blackbriar, she does not cower like a meek little sheep but rather stalks the estate’s halls like a wolf.

“‘Both of you were deeply hurt growing up.’ With a full glass, Roza sat back. ‘And you’ve spent the rest of your lives hurting others. Maybe you found an oasis in each other, but that doesn’t mean it turned you in good and loving people, did it? You treated men terribly. You weren’t nice to your so-called friends. You enjoyed a codependent, sadomasochistic relationship with each other that took only a moment of true connection to destroy.’”

Roza’s take on Alex’s and Wren’s personal characters is accurate, albeit short-sighted. Roza’s analysis does not consider the fact that Alex’s journey has caused her to grow as a person. Alex has taken responsibility for her shortcomings as a friend. Moreover, she has begun to accept herself and to recognize her own power.

“‘For so long I let other people make me feel like that wasn’t good enough,’ I said. ‘That, in order to be a real writer, I had to get some agent or publisher to believe in me. Until then it would just be a delusion. But that’s bullshit. Because even if I never publish anything, I’m a writer.’”

Alex understands that Roza’s offer of fame and fortune is not proof of her success. Roza herself is the prime example of this: She has notoriety and money, yet none of Alex’s talent. Worse, Roza has had to lie and to kill in order to get material success. Alex need only rely on her own innate abilities.