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As a chronically online millennial, I was raised on MySpace, Bebo and Tumblr. Then, when those platforms got shoulder-barged out of the way by Instagram and Facebook, my online upbringing was handed over to them. As an adult, I have TikTok, Twitter and Threads. I really am an internet fiend. And yet, thankfully, I’ve managed to maintain a reasonably healthy relationship with the online world. I’m pretty good, for example, at spotting AI images over real ones, Facetuned bodies over natural ones, and I have a laissez-faire attitude (aspirationally, not ethically) to the uber-wealthy showboating their opulence around. In short, social media doesn’t affect me too much. I don’t spend too much time in Comparison Jail, and I can recognise the airbrushing in its smooth, poreless skin.
That was until someone hit me where it actually hurt. I saw a post on Instagram by writer, artist and influencer, Florence Given, showing all the places she’d gone to write her new book. She’d been to rural cabins, Airbnb’s in Prague, coffee shops in Istanbul and Berlin and a co-working space in Tokyo. I clicked through each beautiful picture and felt a sour pang of envy. She’d found my Achilles Heel.
I should caveat that I have no animosity towards Florence Given over this. I can tell you - hand on heart - that if I had the opportunity, I would be doing exactly the same thing. I think that for a lot of people, writing itself is only half the dream of being a writer. It’s also about where we write: the nooks, desks, rooms, gardens, landscapes and cities that might encourage our best work—the nomadic fantasy that your job is wherever you lay your…well…laptop. After all, why have only A Room of One’s Own when you can have the whole world?
Of course, it’s preferable to write in inspiring places. In the book I’m writing at the moment, a lot of it is set in Paris where I lived years ago. I keep trying to remember the insignificant details of the city that might help me bring the writing to life, wishing I could just go there for a day or two to jog my memory. But, arm in arm with most writers attempting to make a living through words alone, I can’t afford it right now. But I’m also wondering how much of it is necessary and how much is for my own self-indulgence. I’d love to do my writing in a secluded eco-cabin or a street-side Parisian apartment, but I’ve also written 60,000 words perfectly well sitting at my own boring desk. So, does a writing retreat really make the craft itself better, or am I just lusting after a glorified holiday?
Well, to put it inelegantly: depends, doesn’t it? Some writing retreats offer day-by-day collaborations with other writers, authors and editors, whereas some (ahem) end up becoming a staycation with your boyfriend where you forget to bring anything to write with. A ‘worthwhile’ writing retreat will largely depend on your own discipline—whether you’re taking it seriously or not and who you surround yourself with.
I’d argue that, rather than thinking of the word ‘retreat’ as a tangible (usually aesthetically pleasing) place we visit, we need to start seeing it as a state we go into. For example, I can write almost anywhere if I have access to some sound-proof headphones and a good classical music playlist. My current favourite author, Coco Mellors, disengages from the outside world when she writes by going on “imagination walks” where she won’t listen to anything, speak to anyone or look at social media. Similarly, Virginia Woolf would take long, rambling walks along the Sussex countryside to get into the right frame of mind to write. In these instances, there’s no destination, no cosy cottage or lavish cosmopolitan coffee spot, merely a state of retreat—a place we go to imagine, build, question and problem-solve.
All this to say, writing retreats won’t, by default, make you a good writer. You don’t need them to succeed. For those who can afford to do them, I’m sure they’re divine, but they’re just another thread of yarn linking us to that same central nucleus: really good writing. A skill that, while not particularly chic or glamorous, can be achieved just as well from your boring bedroom desk.
For more writing and poetry, follow me on Instagram @alannaduffield
You de-influenced me on the right time! I have been saving up for a writing retreat in France. And thinking that I will write a whole book at it - I haven't been writing anything at all. You're right. it's not about the place. But Actually Writing!
I love this idea of the retreat being a state you're in, rather than a physical place. A friend and I got gifted a lovely glamping cabin and said we would go there to write together. In the end, we just sat there enjoying nature, chatting and drinking wine! lol