We all know what to do in manual professions if you injure the limb you work with, right? You stop. You take a break. You – however reluctantly – step back and let the problem pass.
So, what do we do in intellectual professions? Our colleagues in the non-creative – or differently creative – side of this often do the same that people in manual labor do. They take a “I’m not feeling all right” day or sometimes even a “mental health” day.
But I know, from having been in a differently creative – multilingual translator, if you don’t get the “creative” part you’ve never done the job – job years ago that there’s always things you can do that don’t involve your brain. I mean, when you’re hot on a project you push to the back the things that are the office equivalent of doing the litter boxes. Memos about the company picnic, that probably should be answered. A letter from someone asking if you can take on another duty. A note you meant to send about the quality of the last fax, where you needed a magnifying glass to read it, let alone translate it. Also, why were people writing German with brushes and characters that look like the western equivalent of Chinese?
Failing that, you pick up the next translation job, underline every word that jumps at you as outre, and go on down to reference (this was pre-internet) and borrow the appropriate set of dictionaries, for Scientific and Chemical terms, and then carefully write the translation above the difficult words. That way tomorrow, when your brain comes back on line, you won’t have to interrupt the “flying” translation to look them up.
You can fill two/three days with that sort of busywork, and then hopefully it’s either the weekend or your mind comes back from wherever it was hiding. At least, it never failed me.
But writing is different. No, I’m not giving you an excuse to slack off or to write only when you are “inspired.” I’ve spent a lot of time writing “by the numbers.” If you know your craft, it works. Weirdly, afterwards you often can’t tell which parts were written under inspiration and which driven by a pressing need.
And yet there is another state – a state in which just thinking of words, let alone of story, hurts in a way you can’t quite describe. The closest approximation for those of you who read Misty Lackey’s Valdemar, is that all your “channels” are raw and bleeding.
For those who don’t, it’s like this – your writing comes from somewhere inside you. Not that “divine inspiration” crap, which happens maybe once or twice a month, even for me, but the ability to BE there, to make yourself be there, or to think of the logical next step in the story and fake it. It’s something some people can do and others, no matter how smart and how inspired, can’t.
Sometimes – not often. You’re reading the woman who was at the keyboard, in floods of tears, turning her grief into a story within minutes of hearing of her grandmother’s death – the writing just isn’t there.
Sometimes I know why. For reasons known only to G-d and pharmacists, decongestants turn my writing-thing off. One niquil flu and I’m off for two days, and no amount of wishing will bring it back.
Sometimes I suspect why – this is when I find myself browsing hotel sites when I’m supposed to be writing, or day-dreaming of a trip to the museum.
And sometimes – like today – I have no idea why. Yeah, there’s been some daydreaming of vacations, but not serious day dreaming. And we took a mental health day last Friday. And I’m not sick – well, not really sick, even if I think I’ve worried myself to the edge of a headache.
And sometimes – like right now – it isn’t there at a level that writing this post feels much like I imagine it does for a dancer, dancing on an injury. Or for an athlete (which I did in my day) running on an injury. Or for Andersen’s mermaid “every step on sharpened knives.”
Why? I don’t know. There is the lurking suspicion that I’ve “stripped” the writing thing, but that makes no sense as all I’ve done very little writing for two weeks: mostly I’ve done edits.
There’s the possibility I’m exhausted, but again, I took Friday off and this week has been anything but productive.
I’ve been here before – where the space between breaks had to be shorter and shorter. Weirdly I got over it by sidestepping and taking art classes. BUT at that time there was a reason for it. I had six books due, all of which was much like throwing a baby into a volcano when I finished them. At the same time I was homeschooling a kid with special needs.
Right now I’m on a relatively sane schedule – shut up you – and there’s no reason to feel this way. Except that I do.
Perhaps it hormones, and this adds the distinct possibility that there will be NO writing-thing on the other side of menopause (though heaven knows there was before adolescence.)
Or perhaps none of this is real and it’s just my mind making up excuses to be lazy. If the writing-thing really is injured, then time off will help. If I’m just being creatively lazy making up excuses will not.
The difference between a broken ankle and a broken-writing-thing is that other people can see the first (at least with x rays.) With the second, there’s always the possibility you’re letting your crazy do its thing.
So what do I do? Other than go and do the litter boxes and light vacuuming and hope the words come out from wherever they hid?
And for the shameless bit of self promotion “How To Write Interesting Books” which was written in posts here has been expanded and improved and is now available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Smashwords for the princely sum of 2.99. Maybe money can bring me out of my slump! (Yes, I’m joking. Now for the kitty boxes!)
According To Hoyt 
This is exactly where I’m at, after ~60 days of huge revisions to my work in progress. I probably only have one day left of major work (and want to finish today so I can pass it on to my Chief Beta Reader), but my brain literally feels tired… sort of… broken.
I wonder if it’s dompamine-related. Dopamine comes from “new” experiences. After a while, joining your characters on the field of battle looses its zeal, and so does sitting in a chair staring at the screen. Finding other sources of dopamine (doing fun/creative things other than writing) helps replenish this. Just a hypothesis. There are other things going on, too, but yes, describing them while in this state… Not so easy.
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I actually think Luna may be onto something, because when I get frustrated and loose my ‘habit’ of a minimum of a k a day, I sometimes can’t get it back on track until I’ve had a really good conversation with a complete stranger.
Or that might just be how my version of the ‘crazy’ works.
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Your brain is your only tool. There is no difference between “a broken-writing-thing” and “letting your crazy do its thing.” When it’s broken, it’s broken. “Push harder” isn’t possible.
You’re not like me: a newbie with a few lucky breaks who still needs to get the discipline for regular writing. (At least I’m honest about my weakness, and I’m working on it.) Whatever else you are, lazy you’re not. You’ve proven you have the discipline. If you’ve suffered no psychological or neurological injury, you still have it. So if sometimes that’s not enough, the responsible thing to do is to recognize that and (yes) step away.
Programmers who force themselves to program when they’re just not ready will write really awful code. I expect that rule is similar for writers. Why create a mess that you’ll just have to clean up later?
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Speaking from a non-fic writer stand point. Sometimes ’cause you’re on deadline and don’t have a choice. There’s this big ugly guy standing behind you known as an editor. He wants his copy. Actually he wanted his copy an hour ago. You’ve got 1,000 words to write. The deadline is 10 minutes from now and your brain is mush. Adrenaline at this point is your friend.
That being said. when you can step away you probably should.
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Well, I can’t think of anything to say so I won’t. [Wink]
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Heh. Patrick, you know what you’ve just described? It’s the most likely cause for the last bug that bit you in a program.
Deadlines exist, true; but deadlines are often incompatible with quality.
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I do crossword puzzles — acquired the nasty habit back when and have never entirely shaken it, although I do limit my indulgences — and one aspect I’ve noticed is that sometimes the mind takes you down a blind alley and the only answer is to walk away. You will be looking at a clue — Lead — and none of the potential answers — primary, main, direct — seem to fit. But putting it down, walking away and returning later, the answers become obvious: the word Lead means weight, ballast, dense.
So, too, with any mental process. It is like those sketches that are simultaneously two different images — a young woman AND a crone, or two people facing each other AND a vase — except you sometimes become stuck on one of the image interpretations and incapable of perceiving the other. Or when you look at a picture and see only lines on paper, sometimes the mind refuses to cohere the data.
Give it a break. Stare at the horizon, look at the background instead of the foreground, watch a vintage B&W 30s comedy like The Thin Man. Whatever is blocking the channels will work itself out and you’ll be the happier for not having worried at it.
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Well, there’s always hormonal replacement therapy… >_>
It sometimes seems like I’m on a hormonal creativity pattern — PMS is Pretty Much Shot for writing. Except I’m probably in that hormonal mode right now and managed to sit down and crank out a bar fight, which isn’t much, but it’s something.
I think I need to read and re-fill the mana pools. It’s very hard when I have stories, settings, and characters “open” in my mind. They actively resist me looking at other worlds. It’s like they’re defending their turf. Frustrating. And the non-fic stuff I have in my queue to read is researchy stuff, and the medieval economics book is really dense reading. Fascinating, but it’s not going to refill the well; it’s more like architecting a drainage pipe out of the well for later.
Good luck. I hope your channels heal soon!
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I’ve been in that for a few days now. I really blame myself. First because I was reading “Misery” and the character’s comments on writing. Then while off-balance from that, I was reading a writing forum and the people there were hostile to one of the ways I work. So, since I’m new to this, I sort of mentally tripped and fell into self doubt. It made me think really hard about the first few chapters on the novel I was writing and worry that I was making Big Newbie Mistakes. Rather than saying “piss off, I’m writing here. I’ll worry about that in second draft” I’ve been sort of bumming around, studying writing techniques, the epub business, and history that correlates to the story.
My family and I are going on one of those cheapie “last minute deal” vacation things tomorrow. I’ll be taking a sketchbook and notebook and giving myself permission to “goof off” and write short stories or sketch up unrelated things for the next few days. I’m hoping that time away from the internet and away from the novel will help me unshackle myself.
What really bothers me is that I really want to work on my novel. I don’t know how to describe this in a universal way, but it’s lodged somewhere in the back of my head. It’s right there, lurking like a “sub” headache (the sort that you can feel but don’t actually pain you…yet) that may or may not go away. So far going back and editing has only allowed me to add details of non-visual sensory input. But even though I’ve added hundreds of words this way and love the flow of some of these scenes because of it, it hasn’t relieved the “pressure” building up of wanting new story but not being able to produce it.
I’m not sure if others can relate to this, but when I try to decide if I’m going to draw or not, there’s this sensation in my forearms that tells me if I try to draw, it’s going to turn out weak and wrong because “it” isn’t there. This happens less to me with writing. Usually, even if I’m not sure whether or not “it” is there, I can start puttering around and “it” will eventually arrive 4/5 times.
Hope your “it” arrives again soon. I hate being roadblocked and raw with my writing “it”. I feel like a superhero with their powers drained and feel like I’m stumbling around a little off-balance.
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You know, I think that is part of my issue. I have a novel REALLY pushing, and it’s not the one I have to finish this week, OR the two I have to edit. So… it’s stressing me.
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I must admit that I’m sure glad I don’t have a deadline. My conflict comes between a desire to be working on my current lead WIP and a need to show up for work every morning of every business day or — you know — skip the paycheck.
Which come to think of it, is a lot like yours.
Maybe I should wish for a deadline?
M
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I guess I’m weird. I NEVER feel like writing. But then I never feel like doing anything, except maybe eating and watching TV. Why I’m not 600 lbs and being liberated from my couch via a crane, and a jaws of life on one of those “how did it come to this?” human interest stories on the 11 o’clock news, I’ll never know.
I have to force myself to write. And when I do…I never have any problem coming up with stuff to write. Now whether it’s any good…
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Tons of writers are the sort who enjoy “having written”
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