I Failed at My Last Writing Retreat
This holiday weekend, I had big plans for my writing. I was going to do a writing retreat, with the goal of adding 10,000 words to my manuscript in progress.
Not that daunting, really, since I had 4 days to make it happen: 2500 words a day. More than I’m used to, but not by an outrageous amount.
I should note that the last time I did a 10K marathon long weekend was over Memorial Day. I not only reached my goal, but did several other writing-related things, like revised the first three chapters of my completed novel (is any novel really complete until it’s published?) and wrote a blog post and two articles, plus lots of journaling. When I say it was a marathon writing weekend, I mean it.
I smashed it. I was tired at the end, yes, but I was so happy to have accomplished so much – and to have met my goals even when I occasionally doubted I would – that I was actually more energized to write when I came back to my normal life.
This time? A dismal failure, at least by the standards of accomplishing the 10K goal. I wrote a grand total of 3,015 words on my novel-in-progress. A few journal entries. Two articles totalling about $3,050 words. That’s it.
What went wrong?
In the spirit of seeing every so-called failure as something to learn from, I decided to review what happened, and what I could do differently next time.
Preparation
I cleared the decks in preparation, or so I thought. The decks in this case, being the triumvirate of time, mental space, and physical space. The one big difference was that I went away last time: I rented a cottage on a little lake. This time, I stayed home, and that made a big difference.
At my cottage, I had the charm of the new, a cozy space in which to write, and an incredible view. I have perfectly good spaces to write at home; the big difference was psychological. I took myself away from my ordinary world and entered one that was expressly dedicated to writing. I came there to write, and my whole life was centered around that for those four days.
Distraction
At the cottage, I had no tv, and no internet. My phone didn’t have a signal unless I walked up the road. It was glorious. I could not escape with my usual distractions if I tried. I brought minimal food for breakfast and lunch, and brought in dinner from a local restaurant (I got one big BBQ dinner that lasted three nights). The only thing I did besides write was read, and take long walks around the lake or in the local woods.
At home I had internet, tv, the phone, and chores. When I came to a difficult scene, I popped over to check Reddit. Then another site. Then another. Then email. Then read some articles on Medium.
I rented a movie (Godzilla vs. Kong – what can I say, I’m a die-hard Godzilla junkie).
I read books.
I did laundry, and ended up with a machine issue that I thought would involve an expensive repair, but through the magic of YouTube, I found a video that showed me how to solve the problem – but only after a couple of hours of trying to fix it.
I went to the grocery store, and the farm stand for the last of the field strawberries. I made shortcake and strawberry scones.
I hit up TJMaxx for a cheap spa date – I love lotions, hair products, face creams, masks, body scrubs, and the like, and since I was pretty much out of everything at home, I took advantage of the time to browse. Usually on the weekends I’m too busy to take the time to do something like this, so it felt fun and indulgent.
I studied Italian.
I watched Brandon Sanderson’s videos on writing on YouTube.
Of course, none of this would have mattered if I had prioritized my writing. If I had gotten up at my usual time and done a few hours of writing first, I could have spent the days doing whatever else I wanted with a clear conscience.
That I didn’t do this is totally on me. I slept in, and when I got up I still didn’t get straight to writing. I allowed myself to get distracted at every turn, even when I told myself that now I would get down to writing.
Why did this happen, and what can I do better next time?
I have a few ideas why this happened, and they are ones I imagine come up for many of us as soon as we get that precious big swath of time to write.
I choked. It takes mental preparation to do a deep-dive into writing, and I didn’t allow for that. Also, I was focusing on the big 2500 word per day goal, instead of just doing the piece that was in front of me to do. I forgot my first rule, which is that if something feels like too big of a piece to tackle, you break it down until it is manageable. If I had focused on 500 words at a time, or pomodoro-like 25-minute blocks, it would have been easier to accumulate words.
I am in the messy middle, whereas last time I was in the fun, exploratory beginning. The writing is slower, and the scenes are more difficult to write. It became a slog, and so with distractions easily available, I gave up when it got hard instead of pushing through.
I had way more distractions at home. Not just the siren calls of the internet and tv, but all the daily stuff – laundry, grocery shopping, the temptation to go do other things I don’t normally have time for, as well as keeping up with things I could have put aside (like Italian). I failed to focus on my intentions and stick with them until I’d accomplished them.
I didn’t have an accountability partner. I didn’t last time either, but knowing that doing an at-home retreat is harder, next time I would enlist someone to check in with daily, even for a few minutes or over text.
So what is the secret to a successful writing retreat?
Plan ahead. State your intentions clearly. Create whatever physical space and time you need to accomplish your goal. Make it clear to others, if necessary, that you will not be available during this time.
Find a way to get out of your normal space. If you can, go away to someplace with few distractions. If you can’t, then be absolutely religious about creating a sacred space for writing, where nothing gets done but writing.
Prioritize your writing. Designate time for it, preferably first thing in the morning. Promise yourself you will not do anything else until you have reached your goal for the day. Ignore the laundry, the dishes, any other chores or errands on your To Do list.
Create as distraction-free an environment as possible, at least in your writing space. If you can, unplug your router and hide it in the basement so you can’t access the internet. Write your intention for the weekend on a big piece of paper and stick it prominently in your writing space. Tell yourself you will have an internet and tv-free weekend, doing almost nothing but reading and writing. If you allow other things to creep in, they will., and soon they will become irresistible. Live a monk or nun-like existence, where you get to do nothing but write.
Get an accountability partner. This one isn’t usually a must-have for me. In fact, I prefer being alone with my thoughts while on retreat. This could also be a distraction - if you’re not careful, you’ll spend more time talking about writing than actually doing it. But it can be invaluable to have someone to at least do a text check-in with.
Is it possible to do a successful writing retreat at home? Possible, yes, but it may take even more planning and preparation that an away retreat, simply because you need to overcome the psychological ruts of being at home. Also, for me, days at home that are out of my usual routine mean “days off” and if I’m tired out from previous work weeks I’m going to be tempted to be lazy and do as little as possible. Plus, everything else on my list suddenly becomes a priority as soon as the writing gets difficult.
Writing retreats can be a great way to turbocharge your progress, and go deep on a writing project. But they do require some mental and physical preparation. Set an ambitious goal, make your plans, get an accountability partner, and stay focused!
