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There’s been excellent advice doled out in previous years about the RED writing retreat in its various online, in-person, and remote/hybrid forms. This year, I’m adding my own reflections to the mix, as a relative retreat-newbie and someone who's fairly cantankerous when it comes to writing. This is definitely not a how-to guide, but it might spark some ideas for you about how best to approach your own writing retreat experience.
As established elsewhere, I’ve generally not found writing a particularly enjoyable part of my life as a researcher, and this has led to some rather quirky and unhelpful habits and beliefs about the writing process. Like Shut Up and Write, writing retreats never appealed much to me – but, less than two months into a new job, I found myself helping to run one.
Having more experienced colleagues set everything up and having a great prep/pep talk email land in my inbox in advance helped calm the nerves (you can look forward to a similar, comforting email coming your way if you’ve signed up for 2024). It was clear how the retreat would run and I was very glad snack planning was mentioned (pro-tip, if you have not yet started planning snacks: PLAN ALL THE SNACKS) but there was still plenty of stuff I had to learn.
So, here are a few things that I wouldn’t do again and what I tried, instead, the next time the writing retreat rolled around.
As established elsewhere, I’ve generally not found writing a particularly enjoyable part of my life as a researcher, and this has led to some rather quirky and unhelpful habits and beliefs about the writing process. Like Shut Up and Write, writing retreats never appealed much to me – but, less than two months into a new job, I found myself helping to run one.
Having more experienced colleagues set everything up and having a great prep/pep talk email land in my inbox in advance helped calm the nerves (you can look forward to a similar, comforting email coming your way if you’ve signed up for 2024). It was clear how the retreat would run and I was very glad snack planning was mentioned (pro-tip, if you have not yet started planning snacks: PLAN ALL THE SNACKS) but there was still plenty of stuff I had to learn.
So, here are a few things that I wouldn’t do again and what I tried, instead, the next time the writing retreat rolled around.
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I wouldn’t go into the retreat thinking that I have ‘three whole days’, again. Because you don’t. There will still be plenty of stuff in your day that isn’t being glued to the screen, writing (or trying to write) – and that’s good. You will have a decent chunk out of three days but this is not a uniquely stretchy length of time during which everything can magically be done.
I found it way more useful to plan in pomodoros. There are, at most, 30 facilitated pomodoros squished across the three days. Framing it this way helped me be more realistic and focused on what I could achieve. Some folks love the silent room and working through, but I need regular breaks, or both my brain and my back will go on strike.
I had one task I wanted to achieve: writing a keynote that I had to give in Ireland the following week - nothing like deadline pressure, a long-haul flight, and just-in-time logistics, eh? I reasoned that I could easily get this done in ‘three whole days’ (see above). I was wrong. Come the last pomodoro on day three, I wasn’t finished. It was too big a task for me in terms of both motivation and finding a way in. I knew I had to do it but each morning it felt enormous and took me at least one pomodoro to really get going.
Next time round, the week before the retreat, I set aside a good two hours to plan my tasks on a more micro level. I was facing a manuscript I’d been saying I was ‘going to finish’ for two years. The guilt was strong. So, first of all, I wrote myself a post-it to stick to my screen, reminding me to push through the guilt-based resistance that I’d been building up. Then, I dived back in, read it, and broke down what actually had to be done.
I started with literature stuff – less scary. And figured out that I needed to: search for updated literature; save updated literature; read updated literature and take notes; figure out what needed to be added to the literature review. Then I could attempt to rewrite the literature review. Next, I sorted out what I needed to do with the data. Then the discussion. And so on. After I had an extensive list of smaller tasks, I made rough guesses at how many pomorodos I would need for each. Finally, I drew the whole thing up in a day-by-day chart, pomodoro by pomodoro, complete with tomato emojis because that somehow made it feel more manageable.
First time round, aside from being distracted by coming up with something fun for our ‘mandatory fun’ afternoon activity on the final day (respect to anyone who remembers me trying to get everyone bouncing to Beyoncé) – I was trying really hard to work really hard. I was very conscious of not wanting to waste the time or the opportunity to get something done, but I didn’t spend enough time thinking about how I work best and what being reasonable with myself looks like.
For retreat take two, one of the best things I did was make myself nominate at least one ‘rest pomodoro’ each day. I could nap (there is often animated discussion around the relationship/s between writing and napping at the retreat), stretch, go for a walk, take a moment with one of the coveted, pre-planned snacks – whatever I needed – as long as it wasn’t trying to write. And I got done, in that decent chunk out of three days, what would normally have taken me the best part of three weeks.
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Your planning might look nothing like this. The most important thing, if you want to get the most out of the retreat, is that you do some planning. Taking the time to figure out your own writing repertoire is always time spent well. And the second most important thing to remember is that, if you’re joining us online, no-one never ever has to know if you’re wearing your most comfortable pair of pyjama pants.
Thing I wouldn’t do again: think writing exists outside the space-time continuum
I wouldn’t go into the retreat thinking that I have ‘three whole days’, again. Because you don’t. There will still be plenty of stuff in your day that isn’t being glued to the screen, writing (or trying to write) – and that’s good. You will have a decent chunk out of three days but this is not a uniquely stretchy length of time during which everything can magically be done.
Thing I tried instead
I found it way more useful to plan in pomodoros. There are, at most, 30 facilitated pomodoros squished across the three days. Framing it this way helped me be more realistic and focused on what I could achieve. Some folks love the silent room and working through, but I need regular breaks, or both my brain and my back will go on strike.
Thing I wouldn’t do again: have one big task to complete
I had one task I wanted to achieve: writing a keynote that I had to give in Ireland the following week - nothing like deadline pressure, a long-haul flight, and just-in-time logistics, eh? I reasoned that I could easily get this done in ‘three whole days’ (see above). I was wrong. Come the last pomodoro on day three, I wasn’t finished. It was too big a task for me in terms of both motivation and finding a way in. I knew I had to do it but each morning it felt enormous and took me at least one pomodoro to really get going.
Thing I tried instead
Next time round, the week before the retreat, I set aside a good two hours to plan my tasks on a more micro level. I was facing a manuscript I’d been saying I was ‘going to finish’ for two years. The guilt was strong. So, first of all, I wrote myself a post-it to stick to my screen, reminding me to push through the guilt-based resistance that I’d been building up. Then, I dived back in, read it, and broke down what actually had to be done.
I started with literature stuff – less scary. And figured out that I needed to: search for updated literature; save updated literature; read updated literature and take notes; figure out what needed to be added to the literature review. Then I could attempt to rewrite the literature review. Next, I sorted out what I needed to do with the data. Then the discussion. And so on. After I had an extensive list of smaller tasks, I made rough guesses at how many pomorodos I would need for each. Finally, I drew the whole thing up in a day-by-day chart, pomodoro by pomodoro, complete with tomato emojis because that somehow made it feel more manageable.
Thing I wouldn’t do again: go too hard
First time round, aside from being distracted by coming up with something fun for our ‘mandatory fun’ afternoon activity on the final day (respect to anyone who remembers me trying to get everyone bouncing to Beyoncé) – I was trying really hard to work really hard. I was very conscious of not wanting to waste the time or the opportunity to get something done, but I didn’t spend enough time thinking about how I work best and what being reasonable with myself looks like.
Thing I tried instead
For retreat take two, one of the best things I did was make myself nominate at least one ‘rest pomodoro’ each day. I could nap (there is often animated discussion around the relationship/s between writing and napping at the retreat), stretch, go for a walk, take a moment with one of the coveted, pre-planned snacks – whatever I needed – as long as it wasn’t trying to write. And I got done, in that decent chunk out of three days, what would normally have taken me the best part of three weeks.
-----
Your planning might look nothing like this. The most important thing, if you want to get the most out of the retreat, is that you do some planning. Taking the time to figure out your own writing repertoire is always time spent well. And the second most important thing to remember is that, if you’re joining us online, no-one never ever has to know if you’re wearing your most comfortable pair of pyjama pants.
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Her interdisciplinary research work has focused mostly on analysing gender inequality and violence against women across a range of social, organisational and policy contexts.
She’s passionate about public engagement and building better universities.
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