Contributors: Suyi Davies Okungbowa, Dolly Garland, Mark Isles and Steph Bianchini

Setting: Trigonos Centre, Nantlle Valley, Wales
In the beautiful Trigonos centre, under the cover of clouds and rains and occasional bursts of sunshine, fifteen writers gathered together for one week of respite from the regular world. It is understood that most of what happens in Trigonos, stays in Trigonos. But for posterity purposes and for future generations we write this report to give a flavour of some of the things that transpired at Milford 2017. We thank Val Nolan for (unwittingly) donating his story-style for the creation of this document.

Dolly Garland (First generation recipient of the writers of colour bursary & all-around troublemaker): When a fellow Milfordian you’ve never met agrees to give you a lift from London and willing to spend four plus hours in a car with you, you know these folks are all right. Or…

Jacey Bedford

This will probably be my last live blog from Milford for this year. The hard work is over. Today we’ve been to Caernarfon for a mooch around the castle and lunch at the Anglesea Arms. Though the weather forecast was not great there was only one short shower and this afternoon the sun came out.

This was Suyi’s first look at a proper British castle and he took masses of photos and got a quick history lesson from Terry to put it into context.

Lunch was delightful. On short notice they shoved tables together to accommodate all of us and we (nearly) all chose meat of some kind. Several people had the burgers. I had gammon, Terry had lamb shank. After a week of healthy eating and set menus we really enjoyed the variety. Though we resisted pudding.

We had a quick race round the shops after lunch…

Jacey Bedford

One day slides into the next… and suddenly it’s Wednesday. How did that happen? Yesterday we reached the halfway point on crits, so we have only another two days to go, another ten pieces to crit, with sixteen pieces completed already.

Sue Oke

Looking out from my window, at the mountains beyond the trees, I realise just how much I love being here at Trigonos. The Milford experience is one to treasure. This is my fourth time as a participant, so I know what to expect. It’s great re-connecting with such wonderful writers. A reflective morning of writing is bolstered by breakfast conversations around mind control (well, we are speculative fiction writers). Now I have a precious couple of hours to work on my own writing, before turning my attention to the main focus of being here: the afternoon critiquing sessions. That can be quite intense, but also incredibly professional and supportive. And there’s chocolate too. There’s no substitute for the level of in-depth and insightful comments you receive from a group like this. Ah, here comes the rain again. Well, it is September in Wales. And yes, it’s also quite…

Jacey Bedford

Milford day four. Tuesday morning and it’s raining again. We often get rain in September (this is North Wales after all) but it’s been pretty relentless so far; not heavy (mostly) but persistent, with few breaks. As I type, another shower has started, pattering on my window. The stream which runs down behind the Plas (main house) is no longer simply burbling, it’s rushing, shooting over its rocky bed into miniature waterfalls and rapids before emptying out into the lake, Llyn Nantlle.

Breakfast this morning was a mixture of people looking stupefied (me amongst them) while Matt and Steph had a deep conversation about the modern state of being, virtual reality, and the singularity. All I could think was, ‘This is a nice banana.’

We have a long critique session this afternoon, with six pieces to put through the grinder instead of five, so we’ve asked for lunch…

Jacey Bedford Writes:

Milford is here again. The week in September when 15 writers of science fiction and fantasy gather in a not-so-secret location in Wild Welsh Wales to eat chocolate and critique each others’ pieces of fiction. North Wales is living up to its reputation so far. This was the view from my bedroom window this morning. It’s pretty but wet. Or maybe that should be pretty wet.

Several of us had complicated journeys to get here. One cancelled plane, some missed connections and horrendous traffic jams. I drove from Birdsedge (a tiny village on the eastern edge of the Pennines) intending to pick up Terry at her house in Lymm by 11.00. I have to cross the hills via the Woodhead Pass and unfortunately there had been an accident which had closed the road. Traffic was therefore all heading for Holmfirth to try and get over the moors…