The time has come the walrus said…

Writing came easy for me when I was a child. I got swept up in stories. I loved getting lost within the pages of a good book that transported me to other worlds. I know a lot of writers who had similar childhoods. Escaping into reading or writing as a way of interacting or, more accurately, not interacting with the world around them.

I don’t remember writing being anything other than my happy place. The flow, the zone, the place I love to go to, evaporated. I’m pleased to say I have continued to write this monthly blog. Not a complete failure then.

This year, I decided the time has come… as the Walrus said in Lewis Carroll’s classic poem. I would take myself by the scruff of the neck and kick my own A into G. I would get it together and finish my middle grade story. I joined a writing group, started a new bullet journal, with crisp, pristine pages, and set myself smart goals. Specific, measurable, achievable, blah blah blah.

Life got real and with it all my best intentions all but evaporated.

Apparently my sneaky inner critic, Muriel, she’s terrible, snuck in through the back door of my mind. Truthfully, she never left. She’s me after all. Muriel’s role is to keep me safe from any and all danger. Real or perceived. She has a tendency to take her job to the extreme. Like the robot in ‘Lost in Space,’ waving her arms around yelling, ‘Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!’

I have spent the last few years teaching Muriel to calm down. It was going well and yet my writing was going nowhere fast. Muriel gave me a pat on the back every month for publishing a blog piece. ‘Good girl, look how brave you are. You’re so clever! Now that’s enough of that, let’s do some watercolour painting.’ Muriel grew more and more subtle. She developed Jedi mind powers.

According to Muriel, writing a middle grade novel is a terrifying, life threatening experience. Certainly any thought of publication, or submitting anything anywhere, is a perilous event. Any thought or discussion is met with Muriel’s new Jedi mind powers. She says, with a sweep of her hand, ‘These are not the droids you’re looking for.’

Earlier in the year, along with my intention setting, I booked into a writer’s retreat. It was months away and Muriel didn’t mind. It was no biggie. Plenty of time to choose the five hundred words of my work in progress and write an elevator pitch. Eek! Ok ,Muriel had a cancellation strategy up her sleeve.

The retreat came around very quickly. This Sunday, I returned home with my head full of the experience. Despite Muriel freaking out about me presenting five hundred words of my actual writing and an elevator pitch to other actual writers, I survived.

The retreat was full of time to write, dream, imagine, write, think, dwell, write, eat, sleep, write. Thursday to Sunday. It was organised and led by Meg Dunley. Meg is a writer, editor and coach. I highly recommend booking in to one of her retreats.

On arrival, Meg welcomed each person, to the beautiful property, and showed us to our rooms. We each had our own room and each room had a desk and chair and a welcome pack filled with bits and pieces of stationary and a gorgeous scented candle, every writer’s dream package.

We met for drinks and nibbles at 6pm. I was delighted to discover Meg had thought of everything, even non-alcoholic wine. A thoughtful touch which speaks to who Meg is as a person and a coach and a crucial detail for alcoholics. I may be more than thirty years sober, but it means a great deal to me that I was able to participate. Not to mention the thoughtful attention to dietary requirements. Meg thought of everything.

Meg ran two optional workshops on Friday and Saturday mornings, which were excellent. She was more than generous with her knowledge and information. There was an opportunity to meet up, with Meg over the weekend, for one on one coaching. Meg’s coaching style suited me well. Her insightful, thoughtful and encouraging words were something I will remember for a long time. Spending time with other writers was brilliant. The numbers of attendees was limited to five, making seven of us all together. The perfect number for sharing our writing or our thoughts and ideas each evening. There was plenty of laughter , a few tears and lots of warm encouragement.

I have been on other writing retreats that left me disappointed and disillusioned. Not enough time to write, too many people and cliques that left me feeling like an outsider. The venues were uncomfortable and noisy. Not what I had in mind at all.

Meg’s retreat weekend has restored my faith in writing retreats. I would encourage anyone, who needs the space and focussed time, which retreats allow, to consider booking and to invest in themselves and their writing.

The most important part of the weekend for me was having the space and time to expose the limiting beliefs I have lurking around in my mind. Thoughts like: I am too old, it’s too late, I’m not a real writer, I should quit, and many others slinking around. They’ve had me in their clutches and my writing has spluttered and coughed like an engine needing oil.

Since the weekend, I have been taking time to let the thoughts, the learning and the emotions percolate and filter down. I am thankful Muriel has looked out for me and always will. Now the time has come for my inner Welsh Dragon, Y Ddraig, to awaken. She has slept on her treasure long enough.