When did you last escape? And what were you escaping?
When 26’s editor Max invited me to put together this thought piece on ‘escaping to write’, he first got me thinking about the word. How it’s possible to both escape from and escape to.
Max was really asking me to reflect on a recent trip to North Wales. I have a cottage there. It’s both a holiday let for those keen to explore the hills and mountains of Eryri (Snowdonia), and an ‘escape’ for when I, or other creative souls, need to focus on a project.
My current project is a collection of short stories with a narrative running through. Perhaps a novel. Definitely my first attempt at writing longer fiction. Usually it’s travel memoirs for me.
I also ‘escape’ to the cottage to work on commercial projects. Over the last year, I’ve helped position Vertus at Canary Wharf from there, as well as define Rayo’s verbal identity and tone of voice.
Looking back, I can see what each visit helped me to escape from and escape to. And what the act of escaping to write offers a writer.
Escaping from the everyday
Mostly, I’m in London meeting clients and agencies, developing and presenting language ideas, and doing the day-to-day for my studio.
I love running a business. Any moment can be exhilarating – like when we land a new project or run a workshop. But after 15 years in the brand world, I can predict a lot of what will happen next.
Life’s less predictable at the cottage. Away from my everyday, I’m encouraged to try new things. Like visit a town I don’t know. Chat with someone I’ve never seen before. Try a local food or drink. Did you know there’s a vineyard a short drive from Llandudno?
All this newness is tonic to a creative soul. Predictability becomes possibility. Escape, visit any place your curiosity takes you.
Escaping from technology
It’s impossible to go to the shops without an alert. Read an article without a pop-up. Sleep without the world updating by your head.
Before I set off to the cottage, I tell clients, friends and family I’m ‘escaping’. I explain how being out of contact allows me to produce brighter, better language. Refreshed me writes refreshed words.
We’re in the age of disruption, and escaping to North Wales – or any faraway place – reminds me of a time before technology got rude. I focus better there. I feel more energised by being unplugged than being plugged in. I put devices away and write by hand.
Writing by hand! Technology’s curing diseases. Social media connects humanity. But handwriting reminds us we’re all creatures of craft.
Escaping from my inner critic
The moment I arrive in North Wales, I promise myself something. I even say it out loud because it’s such an important message.
Walking down the hill towards the cottage, looking out to Puffin Island and Anglesey, I make a pact with my inner critic – the voice in my head that likes to tell me what I do is stupid, bad, wrong, selfish.
We agree – I give my inner critic no choice – that if I write something every day, even just a few words, it’s not allowed to judge. This is my time, and my inner critic’s views aren’t welcome. This silencing of the unhelpful voice means I write lots. Much more than a few words.
And what I write without judgement is then good. A good effort. A good idea explored. A good first draft. Doing good motivates.
Escaping to new surroundings
Nature is very important to me. I’m lucky to live on the edge of Epping Forest. I walk, I cycle, I sit by lakes to identify birds.
My Wales cottage has a tiny walled garden with steps towards an enormous hill, the gateway to the mountains. So I go hiking. And I drive alpine passes. Or I head downhill, exploring the coast.
Birds are different here – sparrows are dunnocks, crows are gulls, red kites are ospreys. The walk to Conwy is gorse and bracken. Red valerian breaches every stone wall you pass. I’d never heard of red valerian before. It’s now a motif in my first attempt at a novel.
In fact, the landscapes of North Wales have affected me so much, I’ve set the book there. A bold decision inspired by escaping to write.
And that’s why I do it. Because I’m curious, I need space and time without interruption to focus, I’m kinder to myself, and I get inspired and emboldened by the newness around me.
So, when did you last escape? And what were you escaping?
Rob Self-Pierson has been a 26 member for almost 15 years. He’s founder of The Brand Language Studio, and has published three books: two travel memoirs and a guide to brand language.