Today marks day four of my self-created writing retreat in Westport.
I finally understand why writers squirrel away in those garrets overlooking the rooftops of Paris and cabins in the woods. It’s not just because of some Hemingway or Thoreau mimicry, as I used to think. It’s that when you get away from the day-to-day distractions of ordinary life, you get things done.
On the surface, my routine hasn’t changed that much. I’m still waking up at 9 a.m., rolling out of bed around 9:30 a.m. and going to bed too late, around 1:00 a.m. I’m still making breakfast, lunch and dinner. But dinner might be at 8:30, 9, or 9:30 p.m. Lunch might be at 4 or 5 pm and breakfast rarely happens before 11. Meals happen when I’m hungry and I’m not in the middle of writing a scene. I may not be a picture of healthy behavior, but it works.
I’m also putting my cell phone in silent mode and putting it into a different room – for hours and hours. Why haven’t I tried this at home? I’m not checking email, messages, or mail and responding to them ASAP. I’ve saved hours of my day.
Instead, I’m at my computer for seven or nine hours a day doing what I took this year off to do, writing. When I get stuck, I walk above or along the beach for an hour or so and before I hit the one mile marker drawn on the trail, ideas are bubbling up in my brain like the froth of the crashing waves.
One of the views from my daily walk
If I need motivation, I get a quick hit from an under half-hour TED Talk. I may actually be on the road to becoming a TED Talk addict – intervention anyone?
Gone are the hours I spend every week driving around town to various places to assemble dinners. My grocery runs take about fifteen minutes (the town is that small) every other day and consist of me heading out to the dock and seeing what looks good. Meals are rounded out with whatever is available at the one grocery store in town. But with dinners consisting of bought off the dock steamer clams or crab with whatever organic vegetables I brought up from Seattle – yes I’ve become that person – and maybe a little baguette, I’m not complaining about a lack of options.
Hello, Dinner
The pay-off for my temporary recluse behavior? 3,000 words day one; 3,300 day two; 3,200 words day three and the basic outline for my second book. 9,500 words in three days and pages and pages of notes? I may never go home.