The Myth of the Big Writing Retreat - and What You Actually Need to Start Writing

Raise your hand if you’ve told yourself, “I’ll start writing when I finally go on a retreat.”

You know the one. A charming cottage on a picturesque azure lake in a bucolic village that looks like a scene from a Hallmark movie. The fog is lifting. Adirondack chairs are positioned just so. You sip expertly prepared coffee as the sun rises, your only responsibility being the words waiting inside you.

No laundry. No kids. No dog. No dinner. No email. No interruptions. Just you, your story, and the illusion of unlimited time.

And wow, doesn’t it sound magical?

I’m nodding my head and raising my hand as I write this. Who wouldn’t want that?

But the reality is that most writers never get to experience the big writing retreat. And this isn’t me delegitimizing retreats - they can be powerful, transformative, and deeply nourishing. There are ways to recreate their benefits without the airfare, the price tag, or the logistical gymnastics.

I’ve never attended one, not because I don’t believe in their value, but because of time, priorities, and where I choose to travel and with whom. I wrote my memoir, Accidental First Lady, while raising kids, working part-time, and supporting a politician husband whose job really was 24/7.

I squeezed writing between:

  • College visits and school pickups,

  • Golf tournaments and vet visits for our three Labradors,

  • And just… life.

Replace these with your own realities, and you’ll see why the writing you want to accomplish isn’t happening, not because you don’t care, but because you’ve been waiting for perfect conditions.

In this post, I want to bust the myth of the big writing retreat and talk about what actually gets books written: Twenty minutes a day. A chair. And a decision.

Now, if you’ve attended retreats and left with a stack of pages, congratulations. Writing success recipes look different. Yours might include annual retreats, monthly meetups, or solo writing rituals.

None of this is wrong.

But what I want to offer is a different way to view the concept of a writing retreat - and the promised success it doesn’t always deliver.

We’ve been sold the idea that writing requires:

  • Time you don’t have,

  • Money you shouldn’t spend,

  • And conditions that may never arrive.

I’ve never attended a retreat—not because I don’t value writing, but because:

  • My time is finite.

  • I save travel for vacations with my husband and adult kids.

  • And real life is already full.

And yet… I wrote a memoir. I built a body of work. I teach others to do the same.

Not from Tuscany (yet!). although we did visit in 2017, and yes, we still talk about the villa, the Dievole wine from the 1,000-year-old vineyard, and the food that deserves its own religion. But my book? That was written from real life.

The truth is, if a writing retreat doesn’t fit your life right now, that’s okay. You don’t need one. But you can create one, right where you are.

How to Shape Your Environment Like a Writing Retreat

1. Choose a Sacred Spot
Pick one place in your home that becomes your writing seat:

  • A chair by a window,

  • A corner of your bedroom,

  • A table you clear just for this.

This is not where you scroll. This is not where you pay bills. This is where your story lives.

2. Create a Writing Ritual
Ritual tells your brain: It’s time.

This could be:

  • Lighting a candle,

  • Playing the same instrumental playlist,

  • Pouring tea or coffee into a special mug,

  • Opening the same notebook or document every time.

You’re not trying to be aesthetic. You’re training your nervous system.

3. Remove Friction
Before your writing time:

  • Silence notifications,

  • Close unnecessary tabs,

  • Tell the people you live with, “I’ll be unavailable for 20 minutes.”

Writing doesn’t require isolation. It requires boundaries.

4. Lower the Bar on Perfection
Your retreat environment is not about producing brilliance. It’s about producing words.

Messy words count. Boring words count. Wrong words count. Only unwritten words don’t.

How to DIY a Writing Retreat in One Weekend

You don’t need a plane ticket. You need a Saturday and a decision.

Step 1: Choose Your Time Blocks
Decide on:

  • Two writing blocks on Saturday,

  • One or two on Sunday.

Each block is just 20–30 minutes.
Not all day. Not overwhelming. Just enough to build momentum.

Step 2: Set a Clear Intention
Not “write my whole book.” That’s an admirable, but unhelpful, aspiration.

Instead:

  • Draft one scene,

  • Brainstorm chapter ideas,

  • Write one memory,

  • Free-write around a theme.

Clarity fuels consistency.

Step 3: Protect the Space
Tell your people: “I’m doing a writing retreat this weekend. I’ll be unavailable during these times.”

No guilt. No over-explaining. Just boundaries and bravery.

Step 4: End with Reflection
After your last session, ask:

  • What felt easy?

  • What surprised me?

  • What do I want to write next?

This turns your retreat into a bridge—not a one-time event. Here’s the part no one glamorizes: Writing doesn’t become a habit because you have time. It becomes a habit because you decide it matters.

The goal isn’t:

  • Long sessions,

  • Perfect conditions,

  • Waiting for motivation.

The goal is:

  • Twenty minutes,

  • Most days,

  • Same time, same place.

Momentum is built in minutes, not miracles. And here’s the deeper truth: You’re not waiting for time.
You’re waiting for permission.

Permission to be bad. Permission to be new. Permission to take yourself seriously.

Introducing Weekly Memoir Magic Write-Ins

And this brings me to something I’m really excited about.

I’m starting weekly Memoir Magic Write-Ins. Thirty minutes on Zoom, without the performance anxiety, pressure to produce, or overthinking.

Here’s how it works:

  • We start with a brief welcome and intention.

  • Then cameras off, mics muted.

  • We write together for 20 minutes.

  • Then we regroup for a few minutes before saying goodbye.

No sharing unless you want to. No critique. Just presence, progress, and permission.

These start February 11.. They’re free if you’re in my Facebook group: Memoir Magic for Aspiring Authors.

Not in the group yet? Join by clicking here.

This is how we replace someday with today. This is how we replace isolation with community. This is how we stop waiting and start writing.

Your story does not require a mountain view to be worthy. It requires your voice. Your presence. Your courage to begin where you are.

And if all you have today is:

  • Twenty minutes,

  • A chair,

  • And a tired but willing heart…

That’s enough. That’s everything. I hope to see you at the Memoir Magic write-in.

Kerry Kriseman