Very Human Writing

Very Human Writing

A creative reset for writers, artists, storytellers, and any human craving their spark back

The machines are writing for us more and more each day.  They can string sentences together that almost sound like an actual human wrote it. They can mimic grief, longing, wonder and the whole catalog of human feelings.  It is getting harder for most readers to tell the difference at first glance.

But a machine has never worn our skin. 

It has never missed someone so badly it had to sit down and write about it on a piece of notebook paper.

A piece of software has never stood in a dark bedroom just after midnight wondering if it chose the right life. 

It has never grieved an empty chair at the dinner table, or laughed at the exact wrong time during a funeral, or written a love letter it was too scared to send.

A robot has never had a story inside of them that it needs to tell or it just may explode.  

We have.

This retreat isn’t a protest march. It’s not a stand against the future. We aren’t going to just rage against the machine.  

We are going to write our human hearts out.  

It’s five days of remembering why writing mattered to us in the first place…back before any of this, when we were just people trying to make sense of our own lives on the page.

It’s not about polishing your prose into perfection or launching your Substack. It’s about shaking off the rust. Stopping the performance long enough to listen again. Reconnecting with the part of you that writes because it’s how you stay alive.

We’ll write to find out what we actually think.

We will write without fear until we trust our voice again. 

We’ll follow the small, weird, specific moments instead of the polished ideas.  

We’ll write the things we’ve been avoiding saying.

We’ll uncover stories hidden deep within us.

We’ll break through blocks and doubt.  

We’ll listen for our own voice underneath all the noise.

We’ll take some creative risks and not worry whether they’re any good.

You don’t need to be a writer to come. You just need to be willing to pay attention to your own life. There’s no pressure to share anything. 

Rest assured there will be expectation to produce anything impressive. Just a held space for honesty, curiosity, and showing up exactly as you are…a human jammed full of contradictions, tender spots, dark humor, half-thoughts and all those little neurotic things that make us so wonderfully complicated. 

Sure, a computer program can study a forest from a distance. It can learn the patterns, name the trees, and write something symmetrical about them.

We’re going to walk straight into the woods of our own human hearts and write wildly about how the sap smells and how the light moves through the branches and what we remembered while we were in there.

You won’t leave with a perfect draft. You’ll leave with a notebook full of authentic surprises, and a renewed connection to what your soul has been trying to say all along.

Five days of celebrating our messy humanity with a pen in our hands.

I can’t wait to write alongside you!