You can write for free, you know

On the proliferation of expensive writing retreats.

Creativity Under Capitalism is participating in the Spring Substack Sale, a small collection of newsletters offering discounted subscriptions through March 25. If you’re interested in getting access to monthly issues from The Freelance Series, you can get 50% off if you subscribe before Monday. That’s just $2.50 per month—less than that pack of Space Dunk Oreos I saw you eyeing at the grocery store. (My advice? Get both.)

---

Ads for writing retreats keep popping up on my socials. Almost every time, the ad features a desert photograph rich with Wes Anderson pastels, plus an invite to be part of an "intimate” and “inspiring” 4- to 5-day retreat somewhere in the southwest.

I’ve come to understand “intimate” to mean “cost prohibitive for 95% of writers” and “inspiring” to mean Instagram-friendly. These retreats invariably cost $3,000 to $5,000 per person (travel not included) and feature such luxuries as private chefs, yoga lessons under the stars, and—always, without fail—horseback rides. One upcoming retreat, hosted by a marketing expert named Courtney Maum, brings a “hand-selected” group of up to 10 writers to a ranch in New Mexico for six nights of hiking, roping, yoga, and chef-prepared dinners. (Being selected means you get the privilege of paying Maum $4,200.) A five-night retreat hosted by the Instagram-famous Joy Sullivan starts at $4,260 for a canvas tent in Colorado’s San Luis Valley. Here, attendees are promised “lush landscapes” and connection to “the sacredness of horses.” (What that latter part means is anyone’s guess.)

Sure, it’s at least a nice canvas tent. But who the heck puts a king-size bed on top of grass?

Even after setting aside my disgust at the fact that the southwest has become a marketing tool for influencers and commodity brands, I take issue with the proliferation of these pricey, oddly spiritual writing retreats. To start, these retreats hardly focus on writing; there might be private productivity sessions or group workshops somewhere in there, but they’re usually sandwiched between the activities I’ve mentioned above. Writers are therefore spending no more time writing at the retreat than they’d likely be able to spend at home, extenuating circumstances notwithstanding.

Worse, though, these retreats make it seem as though productivity, fulfillment, and community—as they relate to writing—not only can be bought, but are the domain of people with thousands of dollars to spend. The result is an uncomfortably classist impression that only worsens when you remember that most retreat attendees are “hand-selected” by whoever’s running them.

Though retreat runners aren’t the first to romanticize and misrepresent the creative process (or the southwest, for that matter), they might be the among the first to do so in order to sell a commodity. It’s an artsy form of influencership: while you’re ostensibly being sold one thing, you’re actually being sold an image. For just $4,200, you can embody that image for five or six nights by sitting on a horse, sipping private chef meals complete with wine pairings, and talking about (but not really doing any) writing.

Or you can write for free.

Of all the art forms, writing has perhaps the lowest financial barrier to entry. You don’t need paint, a microphone, or a camera; you just need a pencil and some paper to get started, or the computer at your local library if you’re feeling fancy. You might not be good at it at first, but nice equipment or a horse won’t make you any better. Practice will—more pencils, more paper, maybe the phone or laptop you’re reading this on.

Inspiration is free and can be found anywhere you look. Community is free, especially with the ubiquity of the internet and the devices it lives on. Call a friend; join a MeetUp; create a Discord group. Comment on a few Reddit posts, if you’re brave enough to put your little virtual foot there. Bring a few artsy pals to your local coffee shop, or, again, take to the library. Make and distribute and swap zines.

For what it’s worth, I’m not against the idea of writing retreats in general. Last year, I threw a few hundred bucks at an Airbnb in Twentynine Palms so I could spend three days writing, reading, and soaking up the sun without anyone except a neighboring property’s rooster to bother me. It was glorious, and I plan to do something similar for my birthday this year. But my $400 retreat didn’t include a personal chef, a level 3 yoga instructor, a guided hike, and an expert-led roping lesson. (In fact, I ate nothing but grocery store coffee cake and turkey sandwiches the entire time.) I nonetheless learned a ton about myself and started four new projects—two of which I finished, one I’m still working on. I can’t imagine interrupting my sunup-to-sundown writing time with private yoga lessons and roping sessions would have made my experience more productive or creatively enlightening.

Perhaps there are diminishing returns with writing retreats, just as there are with high-quality journals, nice pens, and the lattes you buy during your weekly critique circle. Perhaps it’s indulgent to spend any money at all on a retreat of any kind, including my own from last year. Perhaps both things can be true at once.

But when you’re not able to spend a week roping and doing yoga with your friends (*cough* hand-selected writers), please know you can write anyway. You can have beautiful, inspiring experiences anyway. You can finish your project anyway. You can become the writer you’ve always wanted to be anyway.

Horses or no horses.

What’s been inspiring me lately:

✰ The Employees by Olga Ravn. This was such a cool read. I’d love to find more experimental novellas/novelettes that go against convention in the way Ravn does here.

✰ A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers. Never would I have expected to love two sci-fi stories in the same short period of time, but my partner recommended this one to me, and I’m glad he did. Chambers does a wonderful job of spinning lovable characters and putting them in a beautiful, heartfelt world. I’m excited to read the sequel.

✰ Spring! The sun’s touch, the wildflowers blooming, and the evening breeze have me looking forward to my most creative season.