Trent Preszler, the chief executive of Bedell Cellars winery, hones the 18-foot-long wooden canoe he is building during a summer sabbatical, in Mattituck, N.Y., July 14, 2018.

Preszler is part of a wave of overachieving taskmasters who are taking a so-called creative hiatus this summer, rather than yet another status vacation to an exclusive hot spot. Emiliano Granado | The New York Times

Mr. Biren and Mr. Erpelding, who live in Des Moines, have traveled the globe. But this summer they're grounding themselves to construct "the Rolls-Royce of enclosures" (as Mr. Biren puts it) for their beloved 20-pound monitor lizard, Vera, complete with a heated pool and basking area. "We're not seeing the Grand Canyon, but we are constantly taking trips to Lowe's and Home Depot," Mr. Biren said. "This is way less stressful than going through an Italian airport. It's much more bonding. And there's something meditative about sticking a paintbrush in a can of eco-friendly epoxy and brushing it back and forth." The men, who call themselves "the last thing from woodworkers," see the project as an opportunity for personal growth. "What better way to reinvest in yourself than by using power tools?" Mr. Biren said. Such undertakings also offer the ultimate escape fantasy: a chance to slip the surly bonds of social obligations for the entire summer, guilt free. When friends invite Mr. Preszler to drinks or weekends away, he zips off a quick reply: "I'm building a canoe. I'll see you in August!" He occasionally gets pushback from friends who deduce from his Instagram account that he's in town and, presumably, ready to rosé. "I tell them to pretend I'm on vacation." "We have so many social pressures to be seen and be available 24/7," he said. "There's a strong self-care aspect to being able to say, 'I'm making this boat my priority because it brings me happiness and contentment.' It feels liberating."



The freedom to forgo social commitments also appealed to Sara Lieberman, 39, a travel and lifestyle writer in Paris who returned to New York City this summer to burrow herself in a new venture: Cup o' Cockles, an urban clam shack at the Smorgasburg market in Brooklyn. "I have a hard time saying no, because I don't like disappointing people or myself," she said. "FOMO is real, so it's nice to have a legitimate excuse. Everyone knows I'm working on this big project, completely out of my territory, and I really do have to put everything into it."