Burrito West Blog

I have recently returned from travels!

This time I was in Iceland, then London, then West Yorkshire area. The last bit was an Arvon writing retreat, like I did in Scotland years ago. And it was amazing. The setting was perfect - an old mill owners house called "Lumb Bank" donated by Ted Hughes to Arvon for inspiring and teaching writers. It's in a scenic spot and offers many wonderful walks through the woods and by rivers and through tiny villages of stone buildings. It oozes charm. The area oozes history and the mysterious pathways through the woods make you think of who else walked there long ago and where they were going.

The idea of a retreat is amazing. Go somewhere, forget about all the details buzzing around in your head. You don't need to worry about groceries or scheduling doctor appointments or any of that. You pack all that up and it will be waiting for you at the train station when you head home. While at the retreat you use all this newly gained brain-space to try writing in new ways. Morning workshops with tutors push you and challenge you and then you have the afternoon to do what you want with that new perspective.

At my one-on-one sessions with each tutor I had them review some of my writing and I got really helpful feedback and encouragement.

Now I'm back in the real world and trying to keep that part of my brain going - the question is, can I push aside all the chatter of life, forget the constantly refreshing to-do list and be a productive writer?  It's definitely harder here.

I'm reading a detailed Bronte biography so I'm a bit stuck in the language and headspace of Charlotte Bronte at the moment. I flip from practical work and life brain to this richer, deeper side that thinks about an immense literary talent living in 1840s in a small village in rural England, struggling with isolation and loneliness. I think about Lumb Bank with its big wood dining table and the creative energy that has been collectively gathered around it over the years. And I struggle to carve out a bit of space each day to get my head into that place. To forget about dentist appointments and netflix and even dancing and get myself into a fictional world. Not even to get myself in it - to create it from nothing and pull it all around me. At Lumb Bank it was a flick of the wrist and some strokes on a keyboard and I was there. Here, it is so much harder to push away the real world.

Photo album from the trip, including Iceland here.