Discussing the possibility of purchasing a piece of property this weekend, my Beloved and I were contemplating potential uses for a 10-acre wooded rural space with its fixer-upper 1,000+ square foot house. Because it’s 30 minutes away, the distance was a huge sticking point for him. The ten acres (and the bargain selling price) appealed to me. Mostly in jest, I suggested it would make an ideal writer’s retreat, a place to steal away to and be wholly focused on writing!
The notion of an actual writer’s retreat is something of a standing joke for the two of us. I think of the numerous writers I’ve known through the years, several of whom wrote novels while sitting at their kitchen tables … between the hours of 4 and 6 a.m. before they trundled off to their day jobs.
I’ve known others, however, who cling to the romantic model of a secluded cottage nestled in the forest, a light dusting of snow on the ground and a generous benefactor delivering meals thrice daily with only the most minimal amount of polite conversation appended to the exchanges. Romantic notions of the cloistered writer are appealing. (I’d be lying to pretend otherwise.) Continue reading “Writing To Distraction”