Well, I’m home from my experimental getaway. I have mixed feelings about the results. (Or should that say I have feelings about my mixed results?)
I didn’t get the number of pages that I feel would make the cost worthwhile. (Note to self: Make friends with someone with a beautiful mountain cabin that I can borrow free of charge at any time, a place with high speed Internet access, a comfortable bed, and — very important — maid service.)
On the other hand, after hitting a brick wall and writing the same page over and over again, I had one of those great “Ah ha” moments this morning. I finally realized the reason I couldn’t go forward was because I took a wrong turn a couple of chapters earlier. With some rewriting, I can get moving again. So I took the time to go through those chapters this afternoon and make notes to myself for the rewriting.
Side note: I discovered I get homesick even when I’m only a few miles away from home. I made myself stay put, never leaving the hotel until it was time to check out. But I missed my dog and my “things” around me. For someone who travels as much as I do, this was a surprising discovery. I don’t get homesick very often. But usually when I travel, I’m around other people (in the airplane, at the retreats and conferences). As an extrovert, I’m energized by the interaction. This solo stint was draining. Until I make that new friend with that available cabin with all the necessities, I guess I’ll keep slogging through in my own way, on my own time, in my own place.
Dorothy was right. There’s no place like home.
-rlh-
