Rio Youers’ new novel, Halcyon, is published by Titan Books this week and is a tense tale of a seeming paradise that is anything but… In this post, he talks about a common problem that many writers face.

I was on a panel recently, and during the audience Q&A at the end of the session, somebody asked me where I write. I think they expected me to answer in the usual way: in my office, perhaps, or amid the clutter of the dining room table. This person looked quite surprised when I told her that I do most of my writing in the parking lot of the Grand River Casino in Elora, ON.

Here’s the deal: I get distracted. It’s all too easy, especially with the draw of social media and other websites only a click away. I use an Internet blocking app (Freedom), which works fine, but it’s not just the Internet; my guitar is right next to my desk, so when my mind is struggling to find the right word, or perhaps a devious way to end a chapter, I reach absently for my guitar and strum away. Next thing I know, twenty minutes has passed and I’m still struggling to find the right word.

Or maybe I’ll decide it’s time for a cup of tea.

Or I’ll go to the post office, check the mail.

Or I’ll shoot the breeze with my wife for a few minutes.

Or I’ll pick up whatever novel I’m reading and dig in for a chapter, or so.

When my attention slips, I do anything but write, when what I really need to do is find some focus and soldier through. The right word is always there. A devious way to end a chapter is always there. Sometimes you just have to dig a little deeper to find it, is all.

My fix for this predicament is to grab my laptop, top my travel mug up with coffee, then get in the car and drive to the Grand River Casino. I park in my preferred spot at the north end of the lot, and I go to work.

No distractions.

And yes, I leave my phone at home.

The writing is easier. I think it’s better, too. When there’s no guitar to grab, or Twitter to check, when there’s nothing to do but focus on the story, the connection amplifies. The north end of the Grand River Casino parking lot represents a purer, less frenetic time. It is, simply put, an escape from the real world.

My new novel, Halcyon, is about an island community in the middle of Lake Ontario—a refuge for broken, disillusioned Americans who long for a simpler, safer way of life. My protagonist, Martin Lovegrove, moves his family to this island to escape the dangers—the mass shootings, the disturbing MAGA mindset, the ubiquitous greed, the soul-sucking technology—of modern-day America. Soon after his arrival, Martin suspects that there’s something not-quite-right with this idyllic community, and sets out to discover the true secret of the island and its mysterious founder, Mother Moon.

It’s a deep novel, with a wild array of characters and several emotional, truly upsetting scenes. But the core theme (at least when I look back on it) is the need to escape, if only for a little while—to get away from the madness and return to one’s principal values of family, friendship, and kindness.

This is important stuff.

There’s a certain, poetic balance in my escaping the real world in order to write a novel about escaping the real world. I’ll be honest, the parking lot of the Grand River Casino isn’t exactly Halcyon. It is not, by even the broadest stroke of imagination, a picturesque location. But it does give me focus and solitariness, and when I open the window a crack I can hear the breeze rushing through the trees. More importantly, the north end of the lot is too far from the main building to pick up the Wi-Fi.

Perfect, huh?

I should add that I have other writing spots. Many of them. Yes, most of Halcyon (and The Forgotten Girl before it) was written in a parking lot, but I also wrote many thousands of words in coffee shops and bars across southwest Ontario. There are few things I like more than grabbing my notepad and pen, sitting in a bar with a pint of craft beer in front of me, and losing myself in the story. Writing longhand is an escape in itself—a pure and direct connection to the words without the coldness of technology. And all you need to make this connection is a piece of paper and a pen. It’s a beautiful thing.

Other places I wrote Halcyon include, but are not limited to: my mom’s living room in southwest England, various hotel rooms across the United States, a beautiful, pebbly beach somewhere in Rhode Island, and Christopher Golden’s kitchen.

Sometimes you just need a change of scene.

So if social media is draining your brain, if the walls of your office appear stale and boxlike, and the right words are hard to find, consider unplugging your laptop and driving into the middle of nowhere. Find a quiet place where distraction is not an issue. Find a little slice of Halcyon… and write.

Oh, and leave your phone at home.

Halcyon is out now from Titan Books and check out his other posts in the blog tour: