Going on a Retreat . . .

This afternoon I'm headed to a monastery (I assume that's what you call the place the nuns live) to do a writing retreat.  It's just one overnight to see if I like it there.  The fee is only about $50 a night, and absolute quiet is guaranteed. 

I'm a little worried that the absolute quiet might be too absolute.  I'm tempted to bring a copy of The Shining with me, but that might send me over the edge.

I'm trying to set a reasonable goal for myself for writing this weekend.  I am changing the point of view in my first historical fiction novel.  I have the first two chapters completed. 

But the point of view for chapter three is tricky - it's a first person telling of the part of story he didn't witness - basically a first person telling of a story in third person if that makes any sense.  I haven't touched it in more than a month.  My impulse is to work on something else, to outline, to do anything else, to watch some movies, go for a walk, paint the walls, do the dishes, anything.  Yesterday I vacuumed the carpet three times and repainted a wall I painted earlier in the week.  I definitely need to be in a space where there's nothing else to do.

If this works out, I may spend the next few weekends with the nuns - well, in the silence with the nuns somewhere sitting quietly in building or on the grounds somewhere. 

I think a reasonable goal is to outline the first third and rewrite five chapters.  It's an Appalachian coal mining kind of novel - must buy some 1930s Carters tunes for my iPod.