susan dirende
fantasy farce fable
susan dirende
fantasy farce fable
Alert: Special Session Added June 15-21, 2025 Social & Political Action Through The Arts
In response to the political and social chaos, we are offering one session for those who want to explore how their work as creatives artists can meet this moment and help change it for the better.
This very intimate retreat includes only 5 individual artist/writer/creatives per week. Each resident artist/writer/creator has a private room with its own bath and continental breakfast prepared by the hosts. There are daily excursion options at no extra charge organized in the area. More details on the RESIDENCY here page or by emailing me.
2025 Dates: June 8-14, June 15-21, August 31-September 6, and September 7-13. The week long residencies are 7 days/6 nights. You can book two weeks in September and pay the two-week price so long as space is available in both weeks.
You must place a $200 deposit to reserve a place.
digital nomad Susan diRende’s column in Splash Magazines
“Circus performer. Topless dancer. Spy. Writer.”
-Susan diRende Six-Word Memoir in
“Not Quite What I Was Planning”
“Circus performer. Topless dancer. Spy. Writer.”
-Susan diRende Six-Word Memoir in
“Not Quite What I Was Planning”
Susan diRende communicates big ideas with a unique concoction of irreverence and insight. Her published works, from serious academic to sci-fi space farce, share a common thread of humor. Born in New Jersey of Italian parents, she has always looked to create at the intersection of worlds. An accomplished painter as well as writer, a strong visual imagination keeps her grounded in the "thingness" of the plastic arts alongside the ephemeral "wordness" of the literary.
An interstellar romp, this utopia with attitude follows Rose Delancy, a disgruntled Jersey waitress picked by lottery to represent the Earth on a planet of peaceful, pink blobs. Rose settles in and starts teaching the natives all about humans with the help of Hollywood movies, junk food, and the occasional bout of PMS. Find out more ...
I was 28 and heartbroken. I lamented to my friend, Roberta, that what I would miss about my ex was how funny he was. That I loved to laugh and I myself was not funny at all. Roberta’s expression of warm sympathy stuttered. She started laughing one of those high, giddy arpeggios you hear when someone is tickled to the bone. She turned to me and said, "Susan, you are one of the funniest people I know." This surprised me no end. I thought I was intellectual, serious, and a bit on the drippy, sentimental side. Telling Roberta this only made her laugh louder.
Until that day, it hadn't occurred to me that I was funny, even though I had toured as a clown in a small circus. I had been a silent, sad clown after all. And there I was, making those same sad clown eyes at Roberta while she laughed with glee. Since then, I have tried to live up to my nature, to transform my once ponderous writing into frothy farce. I found my voice, and it was cranky, contrarian, and unapologetic. However, the greatest benefit of this revelation has not been in my writing at all, but in my life. I laugh a lot these days. At and with myself.