What happens on a writing retreat?

Sounds dreamy, doesn’t it? Escape to somewhere beautiful – a country guesthouse, a cool city hotel, a distant island, a remote Tuscan farmhouse or French chateau – arrange a few books on a windowsill, change into pyjamas, breathe, and write.

And it is. Dreamy. It’s also work.

There are many different ways to retreat, too. I’ve enjoyed many approaches over the years, in both informal retreats and awarded writing residencies and fellowships.

So here’s what I know:

Any place can work as a retreat. You can retreat into your bedroom or to the kitchen table, or a friend’s beach house, a B&B, or a cabin in the bush. It’s about making time to focus on writing (and perhaps reading – there are also reading retreats). Spend an afternoon in the local library or take your notebook to the park. Borrow a friend’s house while they’re at work all day. Head off in a campervan or pitch a tent. It doesn’t have to cost anything, and if time is short or you have many responsibilities, you do what you can.

You can do it solo, with friends, or complete strangers. There are writing residencies like the glorious Varuna, the National Writers House, where I’ve been many times, where you arrive not knowing who else will be there. You have your own room, and all day you write in silence. But you share dinner and conversation every evening. I love that – especially not having to cook. I’m still friends with writers I met there years ago.

I also often go away with friends for a writing weekend. We might book a cheap beach house or go somewhere gorgeous like the Eastern Beach Art House in Geelong. Again, we write all day, and meet for dinner somewhere, but it’s more casual. Usually, we make a plan together, tell one another what we hope to get done, and check in regularly. Sometimes, we sit and write together. There seem to be gangs of people I know heading off for a week or weekend all the time, judging by the happy but weary faces on Instagram.

Then there are other residencies where you get an apartment or studio and you’re on your own. You cook for yourself, might not see anyone all day or in fact ever, and have nothing at all to do but write. I get so much written in places like that especially if it’s a long residency, but I do emerge at the other end pretty wild and dishevelled. Plenty of people do this when they need a few days of peace to finish something, or make some progress – find a cheap hotel room somewhere not too distracting, and hunker down. Agatha Christie famously wrote Murder on the Orient Express in room 411 of the Pera Palace Hotel in Istanbul.

Formal retreats like mine might include a range of programs, so you can choose the retreat that suits what you’re working on (eg fiction, memoir, nature writing), your level of experience (some are for aspiring writers, others for established authors), and what you want to do. Because I’m a creative writing teacher, my retreats include masterclasses and writing exercises to get the writing blood pumping and help your project along. Others might include one-on-one coaching sessions, or extensive workshopping, or pitch sessions to agents or publishers, or concentrate on getting words down on the page – it depends on the focus, and the people leading it.

Some are aimed at specific groups who need a safe space in which to work together (women, say, or First Nations writers), some offer extra-curricular activities like drawing or cooking classes (I offer optional yoga, for example, and a guided bushwalk), and some are in absolutely drop-dead gorgeous places on any travel wishlist.

Make time

When I’m on retreat with friends, we write in two hour blocks, break for meals and coffee, and laugh a lot in between.

When I lead retreats and masterclasses, on the other hand, I try to offer a unique learning experience as part of the retreat, so people leave at the end with a sense of improved mastery and knowledge of the craft, progress with their own words, and a growing writing community.

So there are lots of productive, inspiring, wonderful ways to go on a writing retreat. There’s a great list of writing retreats all over the place here. And Res Artis is a huge database of artist residencies in countries across the globe – some paid, some with stipends, some subsidised.

Whatever you do, walking as well as writing, or at least getting out of the room on occasion if you can, is an excellent idea. Staring out of a window is also good. Some people listen to music while they write, and take great care over their retreat playlist (headphones are essential in a shared space). Some people set out a plan – wordcount, or pages edited, perhaps. Others see what happens, nap if they need to, and allow the process to flow. Eating delicious food and taking a few favourite books can help. Comfortable clothes are essential – I even have writing retreat socks, knitted for me by my clever aunty.

A writing retreat may feel like a luxury, but the main luxury is that of time, which isn’t really a luxury at all. Now more than ever, it’s essential to take time out to focus, time to write, time to meet other writers, time to acknowledge that the work matters, our words matter, and we all need to make time to be writing.

Cheers,

Kelly