I'm a mom of 2 writing a book. Here's how a rented camper van became my refuge.
How a book deal, and a van, bought me permission to focus on myself.
“Our capacity for what psychoanalyst Adam Phillips has termed ‘fertile solitude’ is absolutely essential not only for our creativity but for the basic fabric of our happiness.” says Maria Popova in a recent Marginalian essay. Popova writes that “without time and space unburdened from external input and social strain, we’d be unable to fully inhabit our interior life, which is the raw material of all art.”
But when you have kids, “external input” takes on a whole new meaning. Motherhood literally breaks your brain.
As a writer, for the past four years, I’ve somehow been creating in the midst of total melee, making snacks, wiping spills, restarting screens and breaking up skirmishes between my two preschool-aged children while simultaneously crafting a 40,000 word document proposing my life’s work.
Then that ambitious proposal actually sold, and a six-figure book deal bought me permission to focus on myself.
A dream come true?
The book deal meant I needed space, and time, to write away from my family. For years I’d harbored secret fantasies of escaping somewhere into the wild — assuming a $500 a night glamping-type situation would actually count as “roughing it.” Now I had an actual book to write, in less than a year.
I focused my search on a woody, suburban area near my son’s private preschool, a 40-minute drive from our home. Serendipitously, I found a camper van for rent within walking distance. After a back and forth with the host, we realized we knew one another: Mariah, a barista at the café where I often set up shop to write, offered me a deal on a long-term rental: $150 for the month.
I am by no means an outdoor person. I wasn’t sure if I’d actually enjoy camping out in the back of van for three to four days at a time. I also considered the strain it’d put on my husband, having to solo-parent days at a time. But my deadline loomed, and so I broached the possibility with my husband, Arran. Instead of dismissing the idea as self-indulgent, he convinced me to say yes.
It’s snug, but I’ve adapted it to my needs.
My van-turned-office is no finely appointed luxury yurt. It’s a big white van, and it’s parked in someone’s driveway. It's not exactly remote. Still, there’s no running water. No hot shower. No toilet. I don't care. Are my kids there? No? Fantastic, I’ll poop in a bag. There’s one electrical outlet and so I alternate between the space heater or a surge protector that powers a hot plate, a reading light, a phone charger and a charger for my computer.
But aside from the small leak in the ceiling, the set-up is perfect. It is truly time for me to do me. The price is right, and I honestly don’t get interrupted by my family because they’re 40 miles away. Yes, the van is stuffy, especially as the weather warms up, but I’ve adapted it to my needs.
I start the weekend with a bag of perishables from the local co-op, two big jugs of potable water, a freshly laundered pack of stylish multipurpose towels and my favorite tin mug. Thanks to Happy Birdwatcher Company, the songs of sparrows and robins drown out a nearby street.
On Friday nights, I say goodbye to my family and escape to the camper van, where I enjoy a dinner alone and get a good night's sleep. The next morning, I tumble out of bed and dive straight into work. The $150 a month rent buys me time away from my children and husband, the dishes, the toys that need constant tidying, the smears I obsessively wipe. Priceless.
You don’t need an excuse.
Solitude is important, not just for creativity — but for one’s sanity. When I’m with my kids, they become my complete focus. By myself in the woods, thoughts and emotions stream by.
My first weekend away, I was a little surprised to discover that I was never bored. And I didn't miss my kids, not even a little. I found myself in tears at that last thought — not because I felt guilty or ashamed but because the realization made me feel sad for myself. I had needed this time away, badly. It was overdue.
My message to other moms: You do not have to wait until you have a book deal to take time and space away from your family. Do not wait until you have an “excuse” to take time for yourself. You don’t need permission, or even a toilet. Just go.
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