Roll Your Own Retreat
Make a writing retreat that fits your time, budget, and temperament
Prologue: I’ve been absent from Read Write Repeat for a stupidly long time. I’ve left Liminal unfinished and I’ve left you hanging, and for this I’m embarrassed and penitent. Please accept my predictable and clichéd explanation that life has been overwhelming. If you’ll forgive me unconditionally, I’ll spare you the maudlin details. And I promise to get back to work here very soon.
In the meantime, here’s a bit of marginalia that’s been on my mind…
A poet that I admire, Kelli Russell Agodon1, posted recently on Instagram about a tiny custom-built writing retreat that she and a friend planned and attended. Rather than send applications to writing retreats and be at the mercy of that process, they simply built their own, renting side-by-side rooms at a lodge near their homes for two days. Kelli raved about her productivity and the camaraderie, with a special emphasis on how accommodating this approach can be to writers with disabilities.
I love this idea, as I have scant time and energy for applying to retreats and residencies, and what time and energy I do have is better spent, I think, on writing. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to spend a week at Port Townsend or a summer at the MacDowell Colony or Tin House. It just seems, for me, out of reach or a little impractical right now. After I retire next year and can focus on writing full time (“full time”), then you can bet I’ll be carving out some time to apply for getaways in some beautiful and inspiring locations.
In the meantime, Kelli’s post reminded me of the roll-your-own retreat that I set up a few years back. The Danbury Writer’s Retreat, cleverly named for the street I live on, was originally conceived as a gift / act of love from me to my wife, Cathrine, who is also a writer at work on a “witch lit” fantasy novel. I created a brochure for the retreat, complete with a schedule, menu, nostalgic cover photo of our boys, and retreat guidelines (“You may sleep with retreat staff or request solo sleep at any time” is one of my favorites).
It was all a bit of fun, but also serious and sincere, and when the long weekend of her retreat came around, I insisted she lock herself away in her study, work on her book, and leave meals, laundry, dishes, and everything else to me for 58 hours.
It was a much-needed opportunity for Cath to focus fully on her writing, and it was fun for me to “host” her here at “The Danbury.” A few months later, she returned the favor, and I made some serious progress on my novel. Best of all, it cost us nothing.
Of course, you could argue that this is no different from doing your regular writing routine, assuming that you have a routine and you’re good about following your routine. But for part-time writers, those of us who write when we aren’t working our full-time jobs and raising kids and doing housework and yard work — which is most of us, I think — then putting a playful formality around the retreat both makes it special and helps to ensure that the time is honored and respected by the writer and by the writer’s family.
If you give it a try — and you’re welcome to borrow my brochure (PDF), my menu (PDF), or any other elements that appeal to you — I’d love to hear about your homemade writer’s retreat. Drop me a comment.
You can and should subscribe to Kelli’s Substack here and buy her poetry here.