Writers have a routine and rhythm, right? As a writer you know this; as a reader of someone else’s writing, you’ve probably heard of our habits, some quirky others quaint. I tend to fall into the quirky category; and that shouldn’t come to you as a surprise!
My routine is in the morning. I’m most productive then–the freshest and ambitious time. I want to be quaint sometimes though, but it’s hard to do when you’re in a
rut routine, and in need of pushing the reboot button.
As a gift to me this Christmas season, I created a writer’s retreat at Fearrington Village. The idea was to get away from it all so my creative juices could flow. To freshen my writing and stir my imaginative and technical chutzpah, I felt I needed to do so in a place that matched my level of need. A Holiday Inn just wouldn’t do. Neither would the Embassy Suites by Hilton. No, it had to be a place where comfort and creativity matched my requirement. Fearrington Village fits the bill.
On a Sunday afternoon, I arrived early (before 3 PM check-in time) in hopes the room was ready. Arriving at noon, I figure if the room wasn’t ready, I could still enjoy the ambiance of Fearrington, by visiting Dovecote, having a snack at The Goat or even a drink and meal at The Granary. And there is always the cost-free enjoyment of walking the grounds to view all the beautiful gardens. ~Helen Yoest Click to Tweet!
Alas, my room was ready. I felt short-changed. I would be missing so much! Just kidding. I organized my room and set out to walk the gardens, browse Dovecote, and order the meat chili with cornbread to-go so I could eat in my room by the fire.
Before I could write, I had a book to finish. (In case you’re interested, it was one of the Swedish series about Lisbeth Salander, The Girl in the Spider’s Web, the fourth in the Millennium series. Another winner in the reader’s circle for me. But I digress…
With my chili, I opened a bottle of wine, poured a glass, and turned up the fire. I started in an upright position on the comfy couch, then slowly sank into a lounging position with my head softly settling on the down throw pillow. I’m thankful, I only had about 50 pages left to read, or I would have blown my entire stay reading instead of writing.
My room was in the Park Inn Room section, room 34. The general manager suggested this room because there was a desk with separate rooms to write and to sleep. I did a little in each in all the rooms–sleeping on the couch and writing in bed. There were no rules, only #writinggoals with flexibility to do so, however, I felt most comfortable doing.
Perfectionism isn’t anything to brag about; indeed it’s a curse, but when writing a review such as this, one must mention the good with the bad. The stay was wonderful in every regard. However, I did find the picture on the right side (below) to be a little off-kilter. Of course I had to straighten it.
Oh dear. I didn’t notice it then, but the middle picture is hung to far to the left. I must mention this imperfection. 😉
Did I mention the heated floors?
Whenever I go on a garden tour, I always arrive home wanting to re-do everything, or at the very least, to make changes from my new experiences. In the case of my stay at Fearrington Inn, I wanted to have heated floors in my bathroom. Since I haven’t completed my Christmas list, this year being a honey-do list, I think I’ll add that. However, I’m sure it will fall lower than fixing the window in Lily’s room, making a better entrance to the girl’s chicken coop, and to finish painting the house. But a girl can dream, right!?!
TRYING TO GET DOWN TO BUSINESS!
With a writer’s block, I pretended I was a dowager queen asking the servants to write for me. I suggested ideas, whims, and prose, but I never heard the keys taping. Instead, in my fantasy, I was able to begin with fresh ideas.
I sat again on the comfy couch, and began writing. The goal? To produce at least three pieces for the non-profit 501(c)(3) I direct, Bee Better.
Before I knew it, I was racing to get ready for dinner with my husband of 30 years. David drove up to share a fabulous meal with me; (stay tuned for another story on Colin Bedford’s skilled hand.)
David and I hadn’t eaten there for 20 years. Either the finer taste we experienced was attributed Colin or a lost memory (probably the former), I’ve never had a better meal in my life. David concurs.
Once back in my room, I went to sleep. I woke early eager to write, and write I did. I tapped keys on my Mac solidly from 5 until 9 when I stopped for breakfast at the House. Then I enjoyed another two hours before it was time to leave.
What do I want for Christmas in 2018! You guessed, another writer’s retreat at Fearrington Inn.