The concept of a writer’s retreat is intriguing, but the ones I’ve read about wouldn’t work for me at all. Not due to budget or time, it’s the location and setup that are all wrong. Attention organizers! Here’s what I need:

• Sequester me in a suite in a crime-infested area where I’m likely to be killed if I leave, or somewhere with horrific weather that makes me glad to stay in.

• Give me only one hour of internet access per day.

• Let me earn entertainment “points” by producing word count. To earn enough points for 2 hours of movie-watching privileges, I’ll need to produce 5, 000 words.

• Deliver meals through a slot in the door. No interaction, no disruption.

• Do not let me leave until I’m done.

Under these circumstances I’d be highly motivated to finish so I could go home.

I don’t understand why people would go to a writer’s retreat in a lovely ocean-side resort or other enticing location. The LAST thing I’d want to do if I were in one of those places would be to stay inside and write. Dangle that weekend getaway in front of me as my reward for finishing, but don’t expect me to feel inspired to do anything but go outside if you set me up somewhere beautiful.

Is it just me? These retreats seem to be popular, but I just don’t get it. To me, they’re the worst possible circumstances to get anything done.

A place where I would get ZERO writing done

I spent most of the weekend at an outdoor blues fest and it was… okay. Didn’t love it, didn’t hate it, it was just… okay. And that’s not okay. It’s artistic and creative death.

The “beware of” buzz at the writing conferences I’ve been to lately is “beware of allowing too much critiquing to muffle your voice.” I didn’t really understand what that meant until I went to the blues fest. The musicians were going through the motions, doing basic crowd-pleasers. Nothing new, nothing exciting, nothing memorable. People in the crowd were applauding, but for what?

The whole experience made me really uncomfortable and I think I understand why. My greatest fear is that people tell me my writing is good (they’re applauding) when it’s not that good. It’s okay. Okay is NOT okay. Okay is worse than bad. With bad you’re forced to improve, but okay leaves you in a place where you can get by and coast.

What’s the answer? Set your own bar and accept the fact that you’ll get booed.

Here’s a great post by Chase Jarvis: Stop Trying to Get Everyone to Like Your Work. I agree 100% with what he says. Some people are going to hate what I write. And that’s good. They should. I’m going to push some buttons. Say some things that make people uncomfortable. I’m going to raise some questions without providing easy answers. Some people hate that.  But other people love it. Those people will be my people and they won’t clap unless I clear my self-imposed high bar. That’s where I want to be.

Talking and writing about girls who aren’t afraid to do flips and ride mega ramps is not the same as strapping on a pink rental helmet, borrowing a demo bike and testing out the mini-beginner ramps at an indoor bike park. I haven’t been that completely freaked out in a long time. On the plus side, I have a whole new level of respect for the girls who really get out there and ride hard. AND I got some fantastic interviews, AND I know how the body reacts viscerally to self-inflicted terror, AND I managed to do it anyway.

Big HUGE thanks go out to all the girls who allowed me to interview them AND especially to the women of Grunt Girl Racing – a team of female multisport enthusiasts who help and encourage newbies to get out there and try it. I would NEVER have ventured on the hardcore side of the bike park without them.

The planets actually are aligning tomorrow. Be sure to take a look. Maybe that’s why I’ve been in Age of Aquarius mode lately. I’ve gone back to the old 1970’s granola-advice writing books similar to Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way. My latest find is Natalie Goldberg’s Writing Down the Bones. Her chapters are filled with references to zen, meditating and even LSD. I highly recommend it as a nice change of pace from modern “how to” books. Her 20-year old advice gives you perspective. There is no spoon. Just write the freaking book already.
Similar to Cameron’s mandatory morning pages, Goldberg advises writing every day. Not necessarily adding word count to your WIP, just writing whatever is in your brains. The idea is to get past the editor into the good stuff fermenting in the compost. So that means a fresh Jordi Labanda notebook for me.
I am still making novel progress, still getting up early M-F to crank out pages. Still doing the teen BMX story:

When her ex-boyfriend shuns her from the local BMX scene, a teen takes off on a summer road trip with an all-girl team to prove herself in the male-dominated contest world.

Know any teenage girl BMX riders (park, ramp, vert – not dirt) who like to read? Send them my way!
Next class I’m taking: 2-week workshop Sep1 – Sep 14 from editorrent on Structure.

Goal:
Write a novel that I’m proud of of which I am proud.

Motivation:
a) It’s all I want to do.
b) It rationalizes talking to myself.
c) Irritating people and situations are much more bearable as possible novel fodder.

Conflict:
The more I learn the more I realize I don’t know.

Protagonist:
Karen/Elizabeth
Strengths: curious, adventurous
Weaknesses: worries too much

Antagonist:
JoJo the self-doubt demon
Strengths: persistent, excels at manipulation
Weaknesses: backs down when confronted with facts

Will Karen/Elizabeth defeat JoJo and write an awesome novel?

Hint: I only like books with a happy ending.

Unfortunately, reading about someone writing is, well, dull. So in the mean time, check out the lemurs – they’re fun!