✍️ Retreating

or, How Many Chainsaws Can I Juggle?!?

Such a strange word to use for a writing weekend: retreat. In many contexts, the word “retreat” has negative connotations. Falling back. Giving in. Giving up. There are also undertones of fear, regret, and failure.

But add the adjective “writing” in front of it, and the meaning flips completely! Suddenly, the connotations are freedom, luxurious writing time, and creative energy with undertones of joy and productivity.

At least, that’s how it usually works for me. I’ll confess, I’m not looking forward to the upcoming Laughing Fox Retreat this weekend as much as I was, and those negative connotations and undertones are seeping in. Partly is the fact that I’m not where I wanted to be in terms of word count or, most specifically, number of completed scenes. I bought index cards and planned to map out the story like I mention here and other places.

But that lack of scene count is merely a symptom of a larger problem. “Carving out time” is a three-word sentiment that takes nothing to say, but a huge amount of energy to achieve.

Putting pressure on myself isn’t helping, either. I’m overwhelmed. Something’s got to give. At this point, I’m afraid what gives will be my heart.

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I don’t believe I’m unique here. I want to put into words what I suspect a million other writers like me feel every day.

First, dear reader, don’t worry. This isn’t the End of My Novel as we know it. I want to write it. In fact, I wish I could run away to a Greek island à la Leonard Cohen and just finish the damn thing.

But I’m entering a profound phase of reckoning about the amount of time I could or should put into it right now. How many chainsaws can I juggle?

Maybe what’s happening is that I’m finally fessing up to the fact that I can’t do everything. What I need right now is to let myself off the hook and give myself permission to work on fewer things. I have so many projects on the go including day-job projects that I’m at risk of experiencing creative paralysis. It’s time to become a creative minimalist and put a few of those projects onto the metaphorical shelf.

I don’t know what “creative minimalism” looks like. But I do know that I’ll still work on the novel. I wrote two separate passages during the writing of this post because ideas came to me. I would guess I’m putting down ideas at least once a week on average. That’s not gonna stop.

So no, interest isn’t the problem. It’s not the novel I’m ditching. It’s the pressure and guilt I’m putting on myself to “have” to write it.

And, as of this week, I’m okay with that. (Mostly…)

Writing is hard, and often because of all the things that are happening outside of writing. I have not had the ability to set any sort of schedule or work on it for any extended amount of time since November. Getting stressed or feeling guilty about that fact only makes it worse. It’s a broken-wing death spiral – and I’ve decided to pull out.

I’ll add that I will go to the retreat this weekend feeling hopeful. I’m going to bring those index cards and fill them in and lay them out and see where I’m at with the story. Maybe I’m closer than I thought. Maybe visualizing the novel as a whole will help me feel less overwhelmed by it. Maybe I just need to be away from everything else that’s going on in my life.

It won’t be Cohen’s Hydra island. But, it will be the largest cabin on the largest lake on the largest peninsula on the largest freshwater lake in the world. There’s something romantic and inspiring in that.

As good a place as any to reflect, take stock, and manage my expectations.

Over to You

I’ll keep you posted as to how this weekend works out. I’m looking forward to seeing some of you out there! In the meantime, anyone else out there feeling overwhelmed with your writing? Or is it just me…? lol

Until next time, keep writing with wild abandon! (Seriously…)

~Graham

email me if you get lost.