As I’m writing this, my husband has just left for a four-day fishing trip with his buddy. That leaves me at home with Kensi Kitty, who some of you know was very sick a few weeks back but is doing great now.
This means I have four days with no meals to prep, no questions to answer, and no “Can you give me a hand for a minute” requests. Yes, I do have to eat, but I have a curbside grocery pickup this afternoon, consisting of microwave meals.
My to-do list, beyond the grocery run, is simple: WRITE.
I’m currently at 59,000 words of what I unaffectionately call my Frankenbook. It’s basically a hot mess. I’ve written, rewritten, copied and pasted scenes from one chapter to another, and slashed large chunks completely. Okay, not completely. I have a separate “clip file” where I stash those cut pages, just in case. I have high hopes of adding several thousand more words before my husband rolls back into the driveway.
I’m not giving a solid wordcount goal because lately the Universe has been looking at my plans, only to laugh hysterically and say, “Hold my beer.” I will be happy with what I get.
Some writers (myself included) go on writing retreats away from home. I’ve attended group retreats with my Sisters in Crime chapter at various rental houses.
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| Pgh SinC Retreat House |
I’ve also driven nearly nine hours to join writing friends, including the late Ramona Long, at a spiritual retreat center run by nuns, who didn’t seem to mind that crime writers were doing fictional dastardly deeds while holed up on their property.
Spiritual Retreat Center near Philadelphia
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| Dinner at Ramona's retreat with Martha Reed & Edith Maxwell |
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| My writing nook at Ramona's retreat |
One big benefit of a staycation writing retreat is no travel time and no sticker shock from filling up the gas tank to get there. Another benefit is having my personal library of research books within easy reach.
I do miss the camaraderie of sipping wine with fellow mystery authors after a long day of torturing our characters. The only living being I can discuss plot holes with is Kensi Kitty, who frankly doesn’t care about anything but getting pets and snacks.
By the time you read this, my husband will be home, and I’ll be doing mountains of his laundry. And hopefully, I’ll be considerably closer to the end of the Frankenbook.
Dear readers, have you ever taken a staycation? Did you enjoy it? And fellow Writers Who Kill, have you ever attended a writing retreat, either alone, with other authors, or simply holed up in your house? Did you find it productive?
