A ticket to write
One of my fellow Silk and Shadows bloggers, Jessa Slade, just posted about getting away on a writer’s retreat to churn out the pages. It sounds like a lovely thing to do, and one I should try sometime.
Or not. I’m not a great traveller. In fact, I fervently hate it eighty percent of the time. The other twenty is like some sort of migratory lemming impulse, because I suddenly MUST go somewhere, anywhere, or go mad. This love/hate relationship with the open road makes planning difficult. I never know which mood I’ll be in when it’s time to pack my suitcase.
Nevertheless, the area where I live is dotted with fine places to go if you have the time and money. Saltspring Island is one of the nicest places on earth, closely followed by the Tigh-na-mara resort near Rathtrevor Beach. My personal favourite is Point-no-point: cabins with fireplaces, endless beach, good food, seals, stars and tidal pools. Once upon a time, a Celtic folk group I played with was planning new material and we went there to brainstorm. It was an amazing weekend. There is something about all that sea air that gets the brain cells moving. Or maybe it was the single malt?
I haven’t done many weekend trips over the last few years, and most of the writing-on-the-road stuff has occurred due to deadlines colliding with other necessities. Nevertheless, that’s led to discovery. Writing in hotel rooms works for me. I spent a large chunk of the last writer’s convention I went to blasting through the end of SCORCHED. I think all those other writers must have psychically helped out, because the words just flowed. Or maybe it was the mini-bar?
I dunno. Whether or not one is happy living out of a suitcase, taking the muse for a vacation seems to help. But why? Lack of interruption? The novelty of a strange environment? Not feeling obligated to jump up and do laundry? I would think the inconvenience of moving shop would have the opposite effect, but it seems I’m wrong.