On Tuesday, though, it was sunny and I'd just had a pedicure, a soy latte, and a leisurely trip to the new neighborhood bookstore, so I was feeling good. I decided to continue my Treat Yo Self day by treating myself to some sunshine, pollen-filled breezes, and freewheeling writing on the balcony. A whole essay came out! My fingers were fairly tripping over each other to get the words out.
Why was it so easy? I wasn't in my usual writing spot and I was relaxed, for once.
For those same reasons, I find that I can write more easily when I'm on vacation. I think that's what writing retreats are about: getting out of a rut and getting inspired by new environments and other, like-minded people.
I wish I could go on a writing retreat, but they cost a lot of money and happen right in the middle of a semester (including the summer semester, when I'm usually teaching).
I've been thinking about how talented my writer friends are lately. I want all of them to hurry up and write brilliant books that get picked up by big publishers so I can buy their books and revel in reading them! Make it happen, y'all. Write so well that I'm like, to paraphrase Eddie Murphy, "Damn! You just made my writing look terrible."
(I'm writing all this at a hipster coffee shop and I'm getting really distracted by all the creative body hair and artfully-placed clothing holes. There's a nest in the bathroom. So many asymmetrical, wispy haircuts! Did I just teleport into the fictional world of Portlandia? This is not the unpretentious Bywater of my youth.)
Art, plus unfinished brick walls and a very tall window--not too hipsterish...
A hanging angel and half a ceiling, plus more art...that's a little more hipsterish. I like it...I don't care if I get made fun of for liking dirty, repurposed decor.)
Anyway. Writing. Yes. I need to do it. I need to stage the proper scene for writing to happen easily and well. I need a real vacation.