The weeklong Cape writing retreat is over and I’m back at my writing desk at home. I’m lethargic and unfocused, and trying to figure out why, since this is not a normal occurrence for me. I know I miss the camaraderie of my fellow-retreaters—our two-hour shoptalk over breakfast and coffee on the porch, our long dinners with more shoptalk, word games and readings. I miss the feeling that we’re all slogging through our manuscripts together (well, from our different spots on the porch).
I don’t miss the heat or the lack of TV and Internet, though that was surely good for me too. My first night home I watched about three solid hours of TV, which only left me feeling guilty with a slight headache. Ew.
I do go to a writing space, so I shouldn’t complain too much. That’s probably the place to go tomorrow. I’ll hear the tapping of fingers on many laptops, and see people snoozing on the collective sofa and chairs. I’ll even get a chuckle when I pass by a few cubicles and see people sneaking facebook, and youtube and all of the many permutations of avoiding work, or letting the work percolate while feeding the brain online garbaggio.
Do you attend a writers’ retreat? What do you think about them? For more meditations on the joy and claustrophobia of writing retreats: