Putting the world on pause

Describe the perfect writing retreat, real or imagined.

by Dietrich

My perfect writing retreat is a place where creativity can thrive, distractions are forgotten and stories can come alive. It is a sanctuary—whether real or imagined—away from notifications, obligations, and, most importantly, self-doubt. 

I picture a cozy cabin tucked into a forest, where sunlight filters through ancient trees to dapple a weathered desk. Or a cliffside cottage, where the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore syncs with the pulse of my thoughts. Perhaps it’s a desert oasis with endless horizons or a mountain lodge among snow-capped peaks. Any of these could spark the magic, but it really could be any place that inspires a pause from the clamor of the world.

For Mark Twain it was a hut on a farm in Elmira, New York, where he brought Huckleberry Finn to life. JK Rowling wrote her first Harry Potter novel in the quaint Elephant House cafe in Edinburgh, Scotland. Ian Fleming wrote the bulk of his James Bond novels on an estate in Jamaica. And Hemingway did some of his best work at his house in Key West, Florida. 

While escaping isn't always an option, I try to create the ‘retreat’ feeling at home. I transform a quiet corner, set boundaries and surround myself with inspiring objects: my vintage typewriter, bookshelves whispering encouragement, a cat curled nearby, a candle, and family photos. Without the need for an exotic escape, a dream space emerges, proving that perfect spot where the story can unfold.

Once I’m deep into writing a chapter, the outside world dissolves entirely. To reach that state, I ideally need a space that’s distraction-free yet rich with sensory details. My desk faces a window bathed in natural light, my chair is comfortable for those long hours, and a pen and notebook are always on hand to capture any fleeting thoughts. There is no clutter and no Wi-Fi, unless research demands it.

Ultimately, my perfect retreat is built on a balance: structure without rigidity, solitude without loneliness. I reserve the mornings for drafting and writing, that’s when I’m sharpest. The afternoons are for revising. Evenings are for reading by the warmth of a fireplace, letting other voices spark fresh ideas and inspiration for the next morning.