A writing retreat is a gift that keeps on giving. It provides a chunk of time to devote to your project, and a creative boost after you return home.
It may not be easy to go back to your day job, chores, and other responsibilities, but with a little extra effort you can maintain that retreat mindset for weeks or months to come. Here’s how I’m tackling this right now.
Do an end-of-retreat summary.
My last night on retreat, I was too burnt out with my novel to even look at my computer screen. So I put on my jammies and fuzzy socks, plopped down in front of the fire, and went through my notes from the weekend.
First I looked at my pre-retreat to-do list and was amazed at how many items I had checked off in the last two days. Then I organized my new notes so they would be more useful to me when I got home. On my drive back the next day, I reflected on everything I had accomplished on the retreat—and what I wanted to tackle next.
Take home souvenirs.
I got this cute mug with evergreen trees, which reminds me of the view from my cabin in Estes Park. I also made magnets out of blobs of glass that I picked up at a local glass-blowing studio, which I put on my writing whiteboard. And I put the artwork I made during my painting class on display in my writing room.
When I see these things in my writing space, they remind me of my retreat, which helps me get back in that productive mindset—and reminds me that I am, in fact, a real writer.
Schedule writing time.
There are so many things vying for our attention, it’s easy to let writing slip through the cracks. But if you want to finish a novel, you have to make time for it—and this is even more important in the weeks after your retreat.
I’ve been keeping up my retreat momentum by scheduling writing time almost every day, even if it’s just a short period. I’ve found 15 minutes before work or after dinner can really add up, and writing so frequently has helped me stay close to my project and keep up the writing habit I started on retreat.
Set goals and deadlines.
On the retreat, I had a clear end date: Sunday at 10 a.m. (checkout time). My goal was simple: Get as much written/revised as possible in that time.
When I returned home, I still had a 90,000-word work-in-progress, a mound of revisions left to do, and no clear due date. I think this is why novels are so hard to write—they take forever, and there’s no one holding you accountable. So you have to make one (or several) for yourself.
My long-term goal is to finish this novel by August. This is still pretty nebulous, so I broke it down into short-term goals, the first of which is to finish this round of revisions by April 30th. There. I wrote it down and shared it with you, so now I have to do it—right?
Find new writing spaces.
One reason writing retreats are so productive is that they take place somewhere else, somewhere that puts you in a creative mindset and has far fewer distractions than at home. Try to replicate this when you get back from your retreat.
If you can, create a space in your home dedicated to writing—whether it’s a room, nook, or fold-away desk—and fill it with things that inspire you. I’m fortunate enough to have an entire room (albeit a small one) devoted to writing. I painted it a cozy shade of yellow and turned the closet into a snack bar (!)
But even the most comfortable writing studios can feel stuffy if you spend day after day in them, so mix it up. Try your couch, your kitchen table, even your bed. Now that the weather’s warming up, try writing outside.
If you get an opportunity to write somewhere new, take it—I find I can be more productive when I write at a friend’s house, where there are fewer distractions. (In the pre-pandemic era, I used to take my writing sessions to nearby libraries and coffeeshops.)
Immerse yourself in inspiration.
We can’t write in a vacuum. One thing I loved about my retreat was all the extracurriculars, and how they inspired my writing. There are countless ways to recreate this at home.
Go for a hike. Explore a new city. Visit art galleries and antique stores. People-watch. Take in other forms of art: books, movies, plays, video games. Try something new. Take up a sport. Paint, sculpt, sew, do something creative other than writing.
Make a mood board for your project—a bulletin board, binder, digital collage, whatever. I’m filling mine with motivational quotes, inspiring images, sketches of my characters, and items collected during my retreat.
Cut yourself some slack.
One thing I’ve learned is that not every writing session will be as amazing as your retreat—in fact, some will be really freaking hard. And painful. And unproductive.
Instead of beating yourself up after a less-than-stellar writing sesh, give yourself credit. You showed up, even if you didn’t feel like it. You pushed through it, even when it was tough. That in itself is an accomplishment.
Know that we all have bad days like this, and if you push through them, your next session will be that much better.