I’ve just returned from spending three and a half days in the Adirondacks, hanging out with inspiring writers, and writing songs. And also hiking the occasional mountain, eating lots of great food, and unplugging from cell phone and internet. It was magical. I am happier and more relaxed than I’ve been in at least a year. Nerissa Nields, folk songwriter extraordinaire, runs writing groups and occasional writing retreats. She persuaded me (it actually took rather a lot of effort) to participate in one in Northampton this past February. I was resistant for a number of reasons, but primary among them was that it was a retreat for all kinds of writers, not just songwriters, and I wasn’t sure that made sense for me. Turns out it did, and even some of the other things I found puzzling (only positive feedback allowed, for instance) turned out just fine. I had a great time at the February retreat, met a bunch of cool people, and wrote a song I’m really proud of, called The Disarray. (If you haven’t heard it yet, that’s a sign you should come see a show this summer! And since I’m playing in at least six states in the span of six weeks, you’ll have more opportunities than usual.) When Nerissa decided to run a retreat at her parents’ vacation house in the Adirondacks, it was easier to persuade me this time around. Still not easy, though – this summer is extremely busy with academic projects including a looming book deadline (plus an awful lot of gigs), so taking time out of my (literal) seven-day-a-week summer work schedule was daunting. But Nerissa is extremely persuasive, so I signed on. I’ve just returned, and since I’m not quite ready to jump back into my academic writing, I thought I’d post a brief overview. The retreat worked the same way the previous one did – various meals or snacks together (and some on our own, but most of the writers did those collectively too) and a sing-along, scheduled in and around writing sessions. Only four writing sessions, and each one only an hour – and each writer shares writing after two out of the four sessions. Songwriters each get their own room to write in (so we can make noise); other writers scatter themselves through various common rooms. Only positive feedback given. There were a few differences this time, too, though. Our daily lives were all interrupted. No one was living at home. There’s no cell service or internet at the place we were writing (and no cell service anywhere in the area, really). Even those of us who found ways to access some internet somewhere started forgetting (or in my case, intentionally decided not) to check. A few families accompanied the writers, and joined us for some meals, or singing, or hiking, and that was fantastic – my new favorite two-year-old, named Guthrie (yup, named for the reason you’re assuming), one spouse who is a full-time musician (and great songwriter) I’d heard of, who had interesting stories of life in that world, among others. Fascinating people with cool families, all of them. And I was also blown away by the talent of the other writers. The positive feedback thing means that we all find good things to say about what has been written, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that you love everything that has been written. This time I did. Every single person at this retreat wrote things (sometimes several things) that caused my heart to catch, my eyes to tear, my jaw to drop, my interest to be completely engaged. The language, the music, the ideas, the thoughts . . . it was all unbelievably inspiring. Is talent that ubiquitous? Does Nerissa find (or nurture) exceptionally talented people? Does dedication and effort eventually produce genius? I have no idea, really, but I want to hear more from every one of these writers. Several are writing books (some that seem to have just been started in the past few days) and I can hardly wait until I can read complete drafts. I wrote one song that feels pretty close to finished. (I’m a serious editor/re-writer of songs, so that’s saying a lot.) I’m pretty excited about it, and it was amazing to have more than a dozen people sing along on the chorus on our Saturday night sing-along. I’ve also made a serious start at another song, although it has a ways to go. The first two nights of the retreat I slept better than I’ve slept in at least a year – I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow and stayed asleep for 9 hours straight. I was also surrounded by beautiful nature, and feel like I made a bunch of new friends. No matter what, this experience was worthwhile. It’s interesting to me to think, though, about why the writing works for me. There’s nothing magical in the set up – Nerissa reads a prompt before each writing session, but it’s not the sort I’m used to, and if I make any use of it, so far it’s been a few incidental words that make it into a song. For me, I think it’s a few things. First, and most importantly, it’s getting outside of my life. Being away from home, not having to do the standard everyday things. Giving space to my songwriting that doesn’t allow for the stress that normally keeps my mind busy. Second, being shut up for an hour alone in a room (the room this time had literally nothing in it except two posters on the wall – no furniture, even, except the chair I dragged in to put my notebook on) with the expectation that I’ll use that time to write. As I have learned in my academic writing, showing up is three-quarters of the task. There’s nothing to do but show up in this arrangement. Third, at the end of that hour, being expected to share what you’ve written, with a room full of extremely talented people. I didn’t want to disappoint them. I wanted to impress and inspire them the way they had impressed and inspired me. (No one is ever required to share, but everyone here did, and there was never any question that I would.) I think this last part is key. Obviously for me as a songwriter the whole point of doing what I do is to play it for other people. But knowing that people will hear – right away – this thing I’ve created helps me focus on making it good enough to be worthy of sharing. I want to figure out how I can re-create more of this experience more regularly. I’ll continue to do retreats with Nerissa (no more persuasion required!), but I also want to try to import more of this process into my daily life. I’d love to be this focused on songwriting, and this at peace with the world, all the time.