The writers’ retreat was awesome. Intense, exhausting, enlightening, and absolutely worth it. It took me nearly a week to recover, which probably tells me something about just how much I absorbed while I was there. I went in wanting to learn as much as possible to improve my writing, and I came home with a head full of information, ideas, techniques, and possibilities. Naturally, I assumed I would walk through the door, unpack, sit down at my computer, and immediately start revising. Because apparently, I think my brain operates like a light switch. It doesn't.
Instead, I found myself not wanting to write for several days. At first, that might have seemed counterproductive. I'd just spent all that time learning how to become a better writer, and now I wanted nothing to do with writing. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I needed time to let everything settle. There's a difference between collecting information and actually absorbing it, between knowing what someone has taught you and understanding how to apply it to your own work. My brain needed a little breathing room before it could get back to business.
And then, when I was ready, I sat down and revised three chapters.
Granted, the chapters didn't need extensive work to begin with, but the revisions made a dramatic difference. The improvements were substantial enough to remind me that I hadn't simply returned home with a notebook full of good advice. I'd returned with a better understanding of how to use that advice. I could see what needed strengthening, what could be refined, and how a few carefully considered changes could make a chapter considerably better without tearing it apart and rebuilding it from the foundation up.
That's encouraging. Very encouraging.
I'm now confident that I can fully revise The Shape Inside and get it to the point where it's ready for editing and, ultimately, submission. That's a significant step. This novel has taken a tremendous amount of work, and knowing that I can bring it to the next stage with the skills I've gained feels wonderful. It's no longer just a matter of hoping I've done enough. I have a clearer idea of what needs to be done and, more importantly, how to do it.
Then there's What Walked the Boreen, which still needs its final chapters completed before I can move into revisions. I know what needs to happen, and now I have additional tools to help me make those final chapters as strong as possible. One step at a time: finish the story, then go back and make the whole thing better.
Perhaps the greatest gift of the retreat wasn't any single lesson or technique. It was the combination of knowledge and confidence. I came home with practical information I can put to work, but I also came home believing more firmly in my ability to do this. Something is reassuring about realizing that improvement doesn't always mean working harder or writing faster. Sometimes it means stepping away, allowing ideas to settle, and trusting yourself to recognize when you're ready to begin again.
I didn't lose several days by not writing. I gave myself time to process what I'd learned. And when I returned to the page, I was able to put that knowledge to use.
Three revised chapters later, I'm calling that a pretty good investment in my writing career.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have novels to finish, chapters to revise, and a rather large collection of stories waiting for their turn. Apparently, the outline folder has no intention of shrinking on its own.