I am terrified of the paranormal and always have been. Ghosts? No thank you. Spirits? I think not.
And yet…my favorite place in the whole world is a haunted house.
Pictured above: my current set up on the porch upstairs. One of my favorite writing spots.
Maybe you don’t believe in that sort of stuff. That’s cool. You do you. But Weymouth is definitely haunted. Even people I know who don’t believe in ghosts have had experiences here that make them hesitant to return.
If you’re wondering what I’m talking about, let me catch you up to speed. Less than an hour and a half from my home is a place called the Weymouth Center for the Arts & Humanities. Writer James Boyd built the house over a hundred years ago, and it has always been a haven for writers, including F. Scott Fitzgerald, Sherwood Anderson, Thomas Wolfe, Paul Green, and Maxwell Perkins.
The Writers-in-Residence program began in 1979. North Carolina Writers are welcome to stay at the house for a week or two each year. This is my third visit to Weymouth. The week I come here is something I look forward to all year. I get some of my best ideas, breakthroughs, and writing done on these grounds.
Maybe it’s the ghosts of literary greats. Maybe it’s the energy of this place. Or maybe it’s simply having an entire week of peace and quiet. A whole week without responsibilities. A solid 168 hours to dedicate to nothing but story.
My ADHD makes it so that I hyperfocus easily. My brain’s favorite thing to hyperfocus on is writing. This sounds great, but causes a lot of problems for me. If my brain is a computer, it’s a very inefficient one. The browser is always stuck on a tab for whatever book I’m working on. Sometimes I can minimize it, but it’s difficult. When I’m not writing, I’m thinking about writing. It takes a lot of work to keep myself engaged in the real world, which is a problem when you have, like, a day job and children.
But at Weymouth, I don’t have to do battle with my brain. I can simply let it be. It truly feels like stepping into another reality. Instead of getting glimpses of my story world for a few hours here and there, I get to dive into it and not come up for air until it’s time to go home. I give the ridiculous, impractical, silly parts of my brain free rein. Play around! I tell them. Do whatever you want! We’ve got nowhere to be for a good long while.
You might think the writing is faster here, but it isn’t. I try not to set daily goals while I’m here, but I thought I might get through four chapters today. It’s nearly 3pm, and I’ve not even finished chapter two. (I went over chapter one last night.) Four hours of writing nonstop, and I didn’t even get through one chapter.
But, while the writing itself is slower, it’s also deeper. I can settle into a scene and really explore it. I can spend a few minutes thinking on one sentence, hell, even one phrase. I have the time to think about it from every angle, to go off on a tangent just to see if it leads me somewhere exciting. And that sort of thinking always results in some sort of breakthrough. It did when I worked on Luck and Last Resorts while I was here last May. And those breakthroughs ripple outward, long after I’ve left Weymouth.
Pictured above: My other favorite writing spot. A table with an umbrella that faces the gardens.
But back to the ghosts. While I personally haven’t encountered the ghosts here, plenty of people have. Impossibly heavy beds being moved while someone was sleeping in it, a woman who allegedly killed herself here appearing in someone’s room, finding glass shattered in a perfect circle in the kitchen when no one heard it break, despite being in the next room. You can feel the spirits here, especially in certain places, but overall the energy they give off is kind and peaceful (though I’ve been told that not all of them are).
Kind or not, I’d rather not interact with any ghosts. Last time, I had the entire 9,000 square foot house to myself. I was so scared at night that I kept all the hallway lights on and watched YouTube until three in the morning, until I was so tired that I didn’t care if a ghost whispered in my ear. Every day, I would address the spirits aloud. “Thank you for leaving me alone,” I’d tell them. “As you can see, I’m very busy, so I would appreciate it if you continued to leave me alone.” But still, at night I’d feel uneasy.
This time, I felt more confident when I arrived. I was assigned the same room I had last year (which is reportedly the most haunted room). As soon as I arrived, I said hello to whatever is here, informed it that I would be here for a week and appreciated that it left me alone last time, and, seeing as I am on a deadline, would appreciate it if it didn’t disturb me.
Maybe I’m just silly, but I certainly felt that myself and whatever is here have come to a mutually respectful agreement. Seeing as we are both creative souls, I suspect that it understands how important uninterrupted writing time is.
Last night was the least scared I have ever been sleeping here, and I don’t think it’s because I have two other writers in the house. The first time I was here, there were three other writers, and I was still terrified. I have to say that having the house all to myself last year spoiled me. I sort of miss being alone here. After saying hello to the other writers (who seem lovely) I have done my best to avoid them, lest I get pulled out of story world and yanked into a conversation. Believe it or not, my extroverted-self is not here to make friends. The only people I’m here to converse with are the ones I made up. So unlike my real-world self, I crave being alone while I’m here, and when I am alone, I never feel lonely. (Maybe because of the ghosts, ha!)
Pictured above: Writer with zero responsibilities in a haunted house aesthetic.
That said, it’s only day one. We’ll see what the week has to offer. For now, I will leave you with the words of Thomas Wolfe, who lends his name to the room I’m staying in.
“Make your mistakes, take your chances, look silly, but keep on going. Don't freeze up.”
Have you ever been on a writing retreat? If you haven’t, I 100% recommend it.
XO, Sarah