Jo March in the Attic Vibes

and an invite to a tiny writing retreat

In 24 days, the light in the Northern Hemisphere returns. Where I live the sun is gone by 5:30 PM during the darkest part of the year. My friends in the Northeast have even shorter days. It's the hardest part of the year for me. And we’re almost through it. 

I’ve written ad nauseam about the woes of winter. And every year I lean into processing the struggles through my writing, I’ve learned to take my pain and turn it into art. Maybe not particularly beautiful art. Maybe not especially profound art. But honest art all the same. 

A self-portrait taken on a frigid, grey February afternoon. Do I look pensive and writer-ly? is it giving Jo March in the attic vibes?

And it’s that honesty–the unflinching stare into what I’m struggling through–that has helped me wrest beauty from my circumstances. Sure, writing about depression and chronic illness and being stuck inside feeling hopeless isn’t fun but it’s made space for me to sit down and ask: What’s the story here? What’s the redemptive arc I can trace through this? 

This doesn’t just apply to writing about the “hard stuff” either. The good things deserve to be sat with too. When I take the time to write (and I do have to take it, the dishes in the sink are being ignored for me to write this), I’m choosing to honor what I’m living out. Writing about the details and delights of my days is another way of saying, “This mattered. This was my life. Let me tell you why it was important.” Even if the only person I’m telling is myself. 

The discipline of writing has caused me to slow down and bear witness. I consider it a worthy endeavor. And at the same time, it’s a difficult one to maintain. A confession: I rarely ever  want to write. But I always feel better when I write. And maybe you would too.

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Next week, I’m sending out a “paid subscribers only” thread using the chat feature on Substack. I’m still planning out the details, but my aim is to drop a line to paid subscribers a few times a week via the chat to check in with some gentle accountability/encouragement to help motivate you to write 500-1000 per day. 

Jo March by Normal Rockwell

There may be specific themes or topics I suggest you write about, but what if it wasn’t so much about a list of specific prompts but more about someone coming alongside you to prompt you to keep writing? I know how beneficial it’s been for me to have kept up the practice of writing and I’d love to help others experience those benefits too. The stories we’re living out–with all their goodness and hardness–are worthy of being witnessed. Even if the only witness is you.

The goal wouldn't be for you to share your work with the group. It would be to just get you to write. What you do with your 500-1000 words a day is up to you. Maybe your words are for your eyes only in a journal. Maybe you make them public or just read them to a trusted friend. Maybe you tuck them away as seeds to be planted for the launch of a new substack three months from now. Maybe you print them out to save in a big, beautiful binder to flip through while tracing grit and redemption and beauty through the words you carved onto the page. 

I write because I need to. I’m of the firm belief that more people need to be writing. Yes, even if you’re not getting paid for it. I wrote publicly for nearly a decade before I was ever paid for this work and I’m a better writer for it. You don’t have to be a published author or have thousands of subscribers for your writing to be needed. Maybe writing can help bring you closer to being a whole-er person, and isn’t that a need too?

This weekly writing chat isn’t an intensive. Think of it like a tiny writing retreat. No one is kicking you out if you only type out 243 words instead of 500 words or miss a day entirely. I’m a homeschooling mom with a chronic illness and no childcare options, I get it. What this weekly writing chat will be is a place to come to and be cheered on as you do this good work. Sometimes, we just need a quiet place on the sidelines where we can get a glass of water handed to us so we can get back out there. That’s what these chats will be. Relax, no one is grading your papers.

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What’s included in the paid subscribers writing chat?

• Weekly chats from me (maybe more, we’ll start slow and see how it works for everyone) where I’ll “check in” with a prompt, a quote, a tiny writing challenge, etc.

• Exclusive “writing playlists” to play during your writing session. 

• Book recommendations from me to inspire your work.

• Writing prompts. 

• A more private place to ask questions about writing with other people doing this work alongside you. 

To join us you will need:

• A paid subscription to my substack ($5 a month, cancel anytime) 

• The Substack app. 

• A just-for-fun book to read. 

• A word processing application (Your favorite notes app is fine!) 

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I’ve made no secret that getting through winter is hard for me. I’m sure I’m not the only one. Heck, just getting through day-to-day life can be hard and sometimes what helps the most is to know we’re not alone. My hope is that this little writing chat can help you feel less alone. May joining give you a little cup of courage to sip on while you sit down to do the good work of writing. 

Soon the days will stretch into the evening and turn the horizon amber, gold and purple. Soon warmth will unfurl across the grasses and into the underbrush and, eventually, into the tips of the naked branches. Everything will awaken. Everything will bloom. Everything will soften. We ache for that chapter of the story while living out the bleakness of this one. And I’m here to say: this chapter—the one you’re in now—has good stories in it too. 

Let’s pull out those stories and give them oxygen. Maybe in the writing of them you’ll find yourself breathing easier too. 

See you next week in the chat!

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ps. if you have any questions about the tiny writer’s retreat, just toss them in the comments! ❤️