The strange business of writing requires more time sitting still than I enjoy.  At home I can distract myself with laundry, food prep, family errands, or picking up the house. Almost anything seems more urgent than the desk work I say I want to do. Thus, the writers’ retreat. I’m wrapping up six days at the Bowers House in northern Georgia.  There’s nothing within walking distance except a dollar store, post office, and a very old abandoned jail house.     … Continue