We put together a DIY writing retreat in which we will meet up at her family home in Brittany and work on our novels for a week.

We put together a DIY writing retreat in which we will meet up at her family home in Brittany and work on our novels for a week.
When your kids say funny things, do you write it down? When they leave home you could hand them a book about themselves- a journal you wrote.
Have you ever told stories that later came true? Or have you ever listened to other people’s stories and felt you somehow absorbed them, changing your life forever?
My mother didn’t allow us to gather to memorialize my stepfather, but the tree is a memorial I see every day. I still talk with him. I still ask my him questions and then wait–the answer comes, as if we’re still talking, because I believe we are.
Do you write a yearly letter? Part update, part family history, part lost art… letters keep us connected.
Having a list of what to do next helps, but there’s still a matter of figuring out what it means to “list all the scenes that need to be cut,”
Like the kid who can’t keep the sand toys separated from the indoor toys, I get things all get mixed together. Instead of 4 neat notebooks, I’ve got 12… plus the sandbox.
We love books in our family and have opinions about titles. We sometimes sit around and toss out titles, or bad ad slogans.
Sunday was and is a day of rest, so even though I show up for Bootcamp today I have a more laid back feeling about it, ready for the rest part of the DIY retreat.
Writing is one more reason to make healthy choices when it comes to being active, and eating or drinking moderately. Those choices help me show up to write each day and keep my mind clear and focused.
…by framing my day as a writing retreat I’m building awareness of what I’m doing when I’m not doing what I said I’d be doing- writing the novel.
Book Finish Bootcamp kicked off on Wednesday…the middle of the week to untangle a muddle of a novel from the inside out.
She donned the gown like a girl playing dress-up and said, I’d love to dash through the halls of a palace quoting Shakespeare in this.
She wasn’t the mother she’d wanted, but she was the mother who’d shown up (from Wildcat by Amelia Morris). What does that prompt you to write?