Thoughts on a Writing Retreat

It was while we were discussing Perenelle Flamel in my virtual local Harry Potter book club that I made the decision: “In August,” I vowed in the chat, “I am going to take a 3-day writing retreat ALONE somewhere in Albania that I’ve always wanted to go.”

And I did it. The act of telling someone I was going to do it was enough to actually nudge me into making it a reality. The stars aligned. I was sitting with my husband after breakfast on day talking about his work when I realized that after Wednesday the following week, he would be off work, and we would not be hosting any playdates at our house. I would be free to go…

It was thrilling, scouting AirBnB options with good writing spaces, scrutinizing the photos of apartment interiors to see which had dining tables near windows and were located on quiet streets.

I decided not to leave the city, because we don’t have a car and I didn’t want to deal with transportation. I booked a place across town with a spacious area for writing. Just two nights – leaving Thursday afternoon, returning Saturday mid-day.

As it happened, I spent most of that time working through an online training on using the Google platform as a learning management system for virtual school (very useful, I recommend it). But the sheer happiness I felt being on my own, alone, responsible only for myself, was thrilling. I knit, I watched a movie (Mr. Jones, which I also recommend), I cooked what I wanted to eat for myself, I worked out in the room. It was fantastic.

I wrote half of a short story – ethnographic fiction, if you will.

I couldn’t wait to do it again.

I also started working with a coach this summer, someone I knew (vaguely) from my childhood in Peru whom I reconnected with while working on this book project. One thing I have figured out in adulthood is that when I need help, I usually have a pretty good sense of whom to go to. Kathi has been a fantastic help. With her support, I figured out that the next step was to do another writing retreat – and to do it in a structured way, with accountability built in. So I signed up for Lisa Munro’s Inspired writing retreat, which happened yesterday.

Here’s a bit of a review, comparing and contrasting the two retreats.

1. Time. The intensive one-day writing retreat provided a great structure for writing, but the longer one I did on my own felt better to me in terms of pacing. I really valued the down-time alone, and I think if I do this one-day intensive again I will nest it inside a longer solo retreat where I do more thinking and planning beforehand, and also have time afterwards (like I am doing today) for writing all the things I think about after the structured part of the writing is over. Ride the wave a bit, if you will. Because of time zone differences, I had most of the day Saturday to do Saturday stuff at home, and then came here in the afternoon. The workshop ran from 5:00-11:00 p.m. and I was pretty sleepy by the end, so maybe even cutting out early and then picking up again in the morning would work better for me.
2. Space. I’ve used two different AirBnBs now, and have had good experiences both times. Both have been quiet, clean, and had good writing vibes. The cheaper one was farther away, but bigger. But both have been good.
3. Supplies. Based on the first experience, I brought a few things I didn’t need to this one, but also neglected to bring one significant essential the second time (coffee). But what I will always pack are:
   1. Mosquito repellent
   2. Eye mask
   3. Workout clothes
   4. Knitting
   5. Earplugs
   6. COFFEE (we drink instant these days)

A further note about the coffee – Albanians drink A LOT of coffee, but it’s an entirely social event. You drink coffee in cafes, usually macchiatos or espresso shots; you spend two hours sipping from one tiny cup sometimes. But people don’t necessarily drink coffee with (or in lieu of) breakfast as many in the US do. Drip coffee is very nearly unheard of; it’s either espresso-based or instant powder. At the school where I teach, there are so many American staff that a drip coffee maker has been installed in the staff room, but it is vile. I drink it anyway.

And finally, I’ve decided (again) to start blogging again. I think I have a bigger sense of purpose now, than just blogging for the sake of blogging. I’ll say more about that later.

Structure and accountability. And coffee.

Perenelle and Me

Perenelle Flamel gets very little text space in the Harry Potter books, but my virtual “local” book club has developed an extensive fan theory about her life. Building on the obvious bond between Dumbledore and Nicolas, we think Perenelle was either a Hermione in their triad and/or lived a full and happy (long!) life more or less apart from them, collaborating when she wanted to and doing her own thing when she didn’t.

We wondered to what extent was she consulted in the decision to destroy the Philosopher’s Stone? Or in its creation and maintenance? Were she and Nicolas always of the same mind on these matters? What were those conversations like?

I found myself in a frustrating position this summer, in part because of Covid-19 restrictions on travel, and partly because of the work imbalance in our household. These swings happen from time to time, and they usually catch me off guard. Both of us have gone in and out of of academic work. There have been times when we have worked together (even job-sharing) and times – like now – when our work is completely separate. When our work lives are out of sync, inevitably there’s a bit of friction. (To be sure, job sharing wasn’t always easy either!)

During the lockdown period from March to the end of May, we fell into a rhythm that felt like teamwork. Every morning would start with family cuddle time in the big bed (we have two kids), just as the sun was coming up. Then my husband would make breakfast while the two of us sorted out the day: Who had what calls, who would be using the workspace in the master bedroom – we don’t have a dedicated office in our small flat – and who would be on kid coaching duty for their distance learning.

My husband’s work had shifted from extensive international travel to completely virtual. Instead of flying to Bangladesh, he was now working odd hours – conducting online interviews and meetings at 7:00 a.m. instead. But it worked, it all worked better than we imagined it could.

We would take hour-long lunch breaks and eat out on the terrace/balcony with the kids, soaking in the silence and birdsong of a traffic-free city on lockdown. We could hear the wind sweeping the streets, and marvelled at the clarity of the sky. My husband would do the daily grocery shopping on the government-approved schedule (we had to request permission daily, using an app, and had an assigned hour to run our errands).  I would finish my work for the day with a video workout in the bedroom/office while listening to a YouTube tutorial for my AP English class, and my husband would make supper.

For us, there was something almost spiritual, perhaps even sacred, in these daily rituals.

I miss it.

When school ended, I leaped at the chance to work with a friend who is offering services as a writing mentor, to return to the book projects I had left dormant when I started teaching. I have to be honest with myself and admit that part of my putting down that writing work and walking away for a bit had to do with a complex set of thoughts and feelings about the work itself, especially the non-fiction/memoir. Is is worth it? Am I worthy to do this work? What kind of book is this even going to be?

So I let myself get terribly busy with school last fall, and let these projects sit on the shelf.

But I had an abiding sense of responsibility and accountability, especially for the memoir, because of the 15 or so people I had interviewed for this project. I want their stories to be included and honored in my book. I just don’t know how I’m going to do that.

So I tried to get back into it. My writing mentor has been great – and the feedback truly valuable for improving my writing and envisioning what both these book projects could be (the second one is a middle-grade fantasy novel, something I think my kids would enjoy reading). But after going through everything I had written in the year before teaching… I had nothing new.

I just couldn’t find writing time.

As school ended, my husband got incredibly busy with his work – it was just how the timing worked out; a confluence of factors piled deep loads of work onto his desk – and the kids were, well, they were stuck at home bored with nothing to do. They’re at the age where friends are of the utmost important, essential, so we sorted out some playdate rotations and friend visits and outings to the park or other Covid-safe locations. But this…. this took all my time. Plus, because my husband was so overwhelmed with work, I took on the full extent of all the housework: shopping, cleaning, cooking, laundry. After two months of lockdown + virtual school, the house was a disgusting mess. I normally have help once or twice a week, because Albanians generally hold an extremely high standard of cleanliness that I cannot match, but obviously this was off the table during a pandemic. The house got so bad that I started watching YouTube cleaning tutorials just to get a sense of how to tackle it all. It took about two or three weeks to get it sorted (one day I spent three hours just dusting Legos). And I got the kids to help, of course. But it was still all on me.

And there was also my work for school. Sure, school was out for the summer, we went through an emotional virtual evaluation, and I was still on the hook waiting to see exam results. Meanwhile, planning for 2020-21 started the minute that the 2019-20 academic year ended. I will be teaching only one class for the second time; I have two new preps, and big plans to write a new curriculum for one of them. But limitations on what books we could get without traveling to the US meant that I had to do some pretty major improvising with what is already in the school library or on my own shelves. Any time I could carve out for working – a few hours here and there while my kids were abandoned to their screens – were usually given to planning and organizing my classes.

So, between housework and planning for the new school year and shlepping kids to playdates – and hosting them at our house two or three days a week – basically I found no time or space for writing.

To be continued…