The first retreat I went on was a religious one. I was 14, I think, and it was a two-week Baptist summer camp. On the first day there, I knew I was really in hell. My mother hoped it would convince me to be a Baptist, but her plan backfired. I returned home determined to be a Catholic, and I was. For a long time.

But, that’s a blog post for another time and, perhaps, a different blog.

This Baptist retreat, however, left me with a bad impression of retreats in general–until I retired from my day job to be a writer. Then, I discovered writers’ retreats, and I was in heaven.

What is a Retreat?

A general definition applicable to this blog post is the act of withdrawing, as into safety or privacy; a place of refuge, seclusion, or privacy.

Many writers need seclusion and privacy to write. They shut themselves away from the world to create worlds of their own. Indeed, most of the time I write this way. However, writers who have family or job obligations often need to get away from those obligations to be productive.

I’ve made my own retreats–heading off for a long weekend at a bed and breakfast or a hotel. Most of my writing retreats, however, have been with other writers at places where we can have seclusion and privacy interspersed with group gatherings to make meals or to read what we’ve written.

I’m a retired federal employee now a writer. No family obligations except for school pick-ups two days a week. Why would I need to get away? After all, I’ve spoken many times of the view from my writing “cave” of the Blue Ridge Mountains and the Shenandoah Valley. Why would I want to leave that?

For the same reason that, pre-pandemic, I’d spent hours in one of the coffee shops in my town: to get out of the house and away from the same rooms that quite often need cleaning. Mostly, it’s to be in the company of other writers.

Why Other Writers?

Sometimes it’s to commiserate. Sometimes it’s to bitch and moan. Sometimes it’s to complain. A lot of the time it’s sharing what works and what doesn’t and sharing common experiences. Sometimes, as a writer you feel as if you’re in this vocation alone. You write alone. You submit your work alone. You edit alone.

When you can simply talk about those experiences with other writers, you understand you may be physically alone but you have the support of writer friends.

At a writers’ retreat, you’re not retreating from writing but moving toward others with shared experiences. Again, to commiserate or to celebrate successes. Or to get a good idea of how to get around any obstacles to your craft.

But, don’t they steal your ideas? No, the vast majority of writers understands the ethics of writing, that what they write is theirs, and what you write is yours. I’ve never worried about that at all.

When I was a pilot, I hung out with other pilots a lot and did what we call “hangar flying.” Writers hanging out with writers is a similar experience. We talk about writing, what we’re writing, why we write, why we write what we write, etc. It is, for some of us, a richly rewarding and somewhat religious experience.

Sometimes, we’re productive, and sometimes when we’re not productive, that’s still meaningful. We know what we need, and we find it.

So, at the end of this month, I’m off with seven other writers to a log cabin in the mountains of West Virginia. I don’t do rustic very well. I’m old and like my creature comforts, like cell phone coverage and Wi-Fi, but I’ll be with writers.

That’s the point.