Seasonal Writing Disorder
By Lydia Sharp | March 16, 2014 |
photo by Flickr’s OlivierJD
A lot of writers deal with depression. I’ve never stated it outright, but I am one of those writers. Fortunately, my depression is seasonal. Even during the worst bouts, I still have the ability to function day to day. It’s more like an itch I can’t scratch than a broken hip. Sometimes the itch is all I can focus on, and this hinders me, but it doesn’t cripple me.
I used to get down on myself if I didn’t hold to the mantra that you must “write every day.” And of course, this self-deprecating attitude would lead to more depression and lower productivity. But writing is far too personal to generalize like that. Still, it took me some time to be okay with my own process. It wasn’t until I stepped out of the current moment in time and looked at myself in terms of a whole year here, a whole year there, that things finally, blessedly, clicked into place.
I am a seasonal writer. There are large chunks of time–days or weeks at a stretch–that I do little to no writing at all. And when I do write during those dark days, rarely do I finish what I start. Sometimes it is not even worth saving, let alone pursuing publication.
These low periods are balanced out by the highs. The months when I am finishing everything I start, while also reading stacks of books every night, multitasking work and home, family-ing, day-job-ing, and rescuing puppies on the side. If I didn’t know so much about bipolar from being married to someone with bipolar, I’d think I was bipolar. But I’m not. I am a victim of the earth’s annual weather cycle in the region that I live. It’s called seasonal affective disorder, and it pretty much rules my writing process.
Does this mean I am not a professional writer? No. It means I have a mental circumstance to work around. My skill is not dependent upon living in an ideal situation, and neither should anyone’s be. But all of our circumstances are different, so each of us must learn how to embrace our own process, and how to not compare it to anyone else’s.
In the chaos, I found order. I found the reason my process works for me.
March/April/May
These are my most productive months. During the spring quarter, I’ve completed all but one of seven novels.
This year, my productivity shifted toward the positive on the exact day we changed the clocks. So it was literally “like clockwork” when I felt my brain spiking in the right direction. Spring may not technically arrive for a few more days, but I’m already reaping the benefits of March. A project I’d been struggling with since September is suddenly a blast of fireworks. I’ve produced more of this book in the past week than I did all through fall and winter.
June/July/August
When the air is so thick and hot you can’t breathe, I start to wind down, somewhat exhausted by my expense of creative energy in the prior months. The good thing is, I have a finished draft that I can polish into something beautiful, and my mind is still willing to work because the daylight hours are long. Sunlight positively affects brain chemistry. My productivity is lower, but not necessarily low. It evens out into something more sane.
September/October/November
Outside of writing, fall is my favorite season. Within my writing life, it’s an odd state of in-between. Whatever projects I’d started in spring are finished by now, and so I think, naturally, it’s time to dive into the next one. But no matter how hard I try, nothing sticks. This is when doubt starts pouring over my head like cold maple syrup, slow and steady, difficult to remove. New ideas are still rampant, but I can’t ever seem to finish what I start. Was I wrong about myself? Am I really a hack? Was the book I just finished simply a fluke, never to be repeated?
December/January/February
Daylight shrinks and the monster of doubt grows. This is an ugly ugly time. I cry a lot. I fake smile a lot. I do nothing a lot. I consider deleting my social media accounts, daily. This past winter was my worst yet, likely because the past spring/summer was one of my best yet. The higher the high, the lower the low. I am lucky to have a good husband to lean on and good books to read or the winter months would crush me completely, grind me into dust.
The best thing about winter is that it’s followed by spring, and the cycle starts over again with fervor.
If you have seen anything of yourself in my ramblings, there are a few things you can do to ease the process:
1. Understand that it is a cycle. The bad times will repeat, but so will also the good.
2. Understand that it is okay to go with the flow of your brain. You are not wrong for taking time off. You are not wrong for not forcing yourself to “write every day.” You are not wrong for producing one new book per year, or less, while others are producing six within the same time frame.
You. Are not. Wrong.
3. Do not compare your process to anyone else’s. Much easier said than done. Reread number 2.
4. Step out of the current moment in time and look at what you’ve accomplished in the span of a year. Or longer, if need be. Determine the ups and downs of your individual cycle. Embrace your process. Own it. Make it work in your favor.
It can work in your favor. You can be a professional writer even if you take time off, regularly. You can be a success despite this mental hurdle.
Is anyone else out there dealing with seasonal writing disorder? How have you embraced your individual process and made it work for you?
Live well, my friends, and write on. Spring is here.
Lydia Sharp (@lydia_sharp) worked a number of different jobs, everything from retail management to veterinary medicine, before turning her passion for stories into a career. She is now an editor for Entangled Publishing and writes young adult novels with lots of kissing and adventures. Her debut YA novel, WHENEVER I’M WITH YOU, released from Scholastic Press in January, 2017. For info about her books and more, visit website and follow her on Twitter @lydia_sharp.
I’m with ya, Lydia. Spring is my best time as well. But I think that’s part of our romantic aritst nature. I’ve always thought if I could manage to be sitting outside a Paris cafe in April, I’d write a blockbuster in a week. In the fall, I’d like to spend the season Up North (this must be capitalized in Michigan), sitting under my trailer awning, cranking out yet another blockbuster. I figure if I can arrange those two scenarios, I can just spend summers and winters going on book signing tours and appearing on the morning TV shows. If money is tight and a need a third best-seller one year, I’ll just head to Key West in January, where I’ll write on the veranda in the morning and sip margaritas on the beach in the evenings. I’ll save you a beach chair.
Thanks for the chair, Ron, this sounds delightful. :-)
I like the way you think. I’ve always thought it would be
nice to just follow the sun around during the year. If only my bank
account agreed!
Oh, Lydia, thank you. This is me, too. And I’m affected by those around me who are depressed. I strive to find balance between despair and hope (hope must win).
I’ve written about it, too, but you nailed it. I’ll try to remember that this is just a cycle. This debilitating winter WILL end. Right?
Thanks. xx
It MUST. ~hugs~
Lydia-
You’re certainly not alone, Lydia. Writers have worked around a great many obstacles, medical to mental to natural to unlucky.
Writers have written around depression, schizophrenia, alcoholism, anemia, cancer, war, day jobs, sick partners, kids and more. It all boils down to limited time.
Some of the least productive writers I know have all the time in the world.
Some of the most productive I know have the least.
I don’t think that adversity automatically makes one a better writer, nor does one necessarily write better in bursts. What your post shows, though, is that whatever your obstacles you can always write.
Thanks. This is a more important post than you may know. There are many writers like you.
Oh, I definitely recognize myself in this post. The winter
is a tough time. There is much thrashing about and wrestling with
demons during those dark months. And this year was the worst
because I was writing scenes in my novel that corresponded with
winter and my character’s lowest point. Needless to say, I felt the
double whammy of that combination. Yay spring!
I’m glad to see you made it through, and with wordage too. :-)
Thanks so much, Don. I almost didn’t post this but in the end, I couldn’t not.
Thanks, Lydia, for sharing your personal struggle. Your words encourage me to not get down on myself when the desire/ability to write escapes me. I will wait expectantly for the good times to come back around.
Wishing you hope and happiness. :-)
Lydia, this is a wonderful post! I never thought my writing might be influenced by the seasons and the sunlight (or lack thereof) until daylight savings time began last week. Man. Suddenly, I was getting up earlier and letting the sunlight into my brain and it was amazing. I’m getting ready to write another draft of my novel, and I’m amazed at how the pieces of the puzzle are coming together!
The mental clarity of spring is like a drug, and we spend most the year in withdrawal. When we get that sunshine fix again, it’s exhilarating. We are daylight addicts. ;-)
In all seriousness, one of the medical treatments for seasonal affective disorder is light therapy, so that’s not an inaccurate comparison. Sunshine is the drug of choice.
Thanks for sharing this. I have a bit of SAD, but it’s that strange opposite version – summer is when things come apart.
As for when you write, do whatever works for you. The more I read about authors, the more I find those who go for months without being able to get any traction, and then it all comes in a rush. Like a lake – frozen silent in winter and rioting with life in the summer. Not easy to handle, but it’s a natural cycle we can work with.
Love the lake analogy!
Thank you for sharing your side as well, Steve. Having a tribe helps, and you have been a loyal part of my tribe for some time. I appreciate that. :-)
Although I do not suffer from SAD, my writing is very much affected by the seasons, for two reasons. One, I prefer to work outdoors. Where I live in California, this is possible a large part of the year, but during the deepest “winter” months, when I’m stuck inside, I don’t get as much done. Two, I’m much busier at work during the winter, and sometimes I struggle even to keep up with my blog, let alone complete any big projects. Part of that is dictated by circumstances – I actually am short on time – but part of it is mental, too; it’s harder to get into anything major when I only have an hour a day to spare. Like you, I try to compensate for my seasonal issues by working with them rather than around them. In the winter I do mostly short work – essays, short stories, maybe some revisions of works in progress – and in the summer I crank out books. It may not be ideal, but it’s not a bad way to work, either. You don’t suffer from burnout, and you’re always eager to get back to that big project.
I think the most important thing is not to worry about how other people think writers should write – you’ve got to work in ways that work for you. And if you’re trying to cope with a medical issue like SAD or even a scheduling difficulty, the last thing you need to do is beat yourself up because you’re not adhering to someone else’s made-up standard that a writer needs to write every day.
Looks like you’ve found a good, workable routine, Lori. Thank you so much for sharing. :-)
From what I hear, your pattern is much more common than mine. I’m sure many writers will take solace in that.
I’m the polar opposite. Summer is my worst season — the heat makes me sweaty, uncomfortable, miserable. The light is too bright, and the world is bustling and noisy. Not great for getting things done. Spring and fall are crisp and lovely — the view out my window is stellar and inspiring. I also go on long walks with my dog, which can get the brain churning, or just lift my mood. But winter might actually be my favorite. The frigid temperatures help neutralize the RSI pain in my wrists. The snowfall is peaceful, and encourages me (and my dog) to stay curled up inside. The gray light is contemplative, perfect.
But yeah, I know I’m in a very small minority that feels/act this way. Weather weirdos. :P
Kristan, what you’re saying makes perfect sense, and it’s amazing how we are all so different yet also the same. I love taking walks too, it is incredibly motivating. :-)
You’re not alone here, Kristan. I wrote in my last blog post that I actually prefer cloudy days to bright sunshine when it comes to writing. And a couple of commenters agreed. We’re a thing! ;-)
Thanks for an honest and helpful post, Lydia!
Thanks for the comment, Vaughn. :-)
I like cloudy days too, if they bring rain. The sound of rain is like a mind massage.
Thank you for sharing. I’ve battled depression all my life and like many writing is one way I combat it (along with exercise, mindful thinking, etc.). The horror for me was that I found myself living in a place where winter literally lasted for 6 months of the year and the wind blew incessantly, the rattling windowpanes a constant reminder that darkness and frigid temperatures weren’t going away in the near future. Each winter my depression deepened. This year, though, I took charge and relocated 620 miles to a location where the seasons are more typical. Unlike where I was before February, the weather is already sufficiently mild for me to take walks. Four times this last week I strolled about my new home and it is the highest of highs.
Christina, I’m glad you were able to take charge and relocate, that is such a huge step. And you’re already benefiting. Good for you. :-)
I suffer from depression. Severe depression with bipolar. I, too, have good times when I seem to be bursting with great ideas and the energy to follow them up.
I feel guilty for disappearing to write during these times and then disappearing from everything during the bad times.
Yes, I am getting help. I have made improvements lately! :-)
I can only work with the professionals and hope…
Thank you for this post. It has helped me to feel more “at home” in the writing community.
My husband has bipolar too. That is a whole other beast entirely, but also common in the arts. People with bipolar tend to be intensely creative and intelligent during their highs, to the point of genius, but the down times can be lethal. I wish you nothing but the best in your efforts to control it.
I always did think there wad far, far too much emphasis placed on the “write every day” approach. Especially when it is the “sit for an at least an hour at the exact same time every time and write no matter what, eve if it’s two words.”
I have no particular seasons to deal with in this regard, but I do have cycles. Sometimes for a month or so, I just don’t have what I need to write as much as I’d like. Going all “butt in chair” would just make me miserable, and I can’t write when miserable.
The “butt in chair” and “write every day” approach works very well for some people. But not ALL. And therein lies the problem with writing advice in general. Thank you for highlighting that very important point.
I think this is something writers should talk about more often. I write best between October and March. June-August are my “dry season,” so I’ll usually work on other artistic pursuits or plug away at non-fiction. As someone who copes with SAD, I can say that moving south has helped. Odd that I write best in the winter, but there you have it. :)
Thank you for sharing, Robyn. :-)
You’re killing Lydia. I want to find you and give you a big ass hug, especially since we live in the same state.
I have no idea what I suffer from, but I know there is always a slight heaviness that sits in the back of my mind. It’s there even when I’m full of delight, but it’s pushed further in the background during that time. I used to fight it. Now, I don’t. Sometimes, the little darkness and I will sit and have tea together or we’ll just sit around and observe the environment. It’s part of my Naked Self that I Embrace (Thanks to Robin).
It’s especially hard when you have a day job, an active family life, and a dream of writing. My ideal, sort of, solidary life would be writing, movies, art, video games, and the great outdoors, but that isn’t feasible for my life right now with a wife and three teens who are not interested in those sorts of things. Five years from now I will tell a different story. The youngest will be eighteen in 4 years and I will be 45.
And that’s all I got to say about that (Forrest Gump).
I plan on being a Novelist in the near future or far. It’s based on a 5 to 20 year plan. If I don’t become a Novelist in twenty years, then writing will be more of a hobby and I’ll self-publish everything (very low key self-publish, not like an awesome Indie Writer.)
I feel bad when the wind blows sometimes, so missing a daily writing quota isn’t a huge disappointment. Plus creating quotas isn’t supposed to be some daunting agonizing chore. I will not be a slave to my own devices. It’s just a reminder to write, but nowadays I don’t have to be reminded. I THINK OF STORIES ALL THE DAMNED TIME. My slowest season is late summer and early autumn. It’s soccer season and writing takes a back seat. My sons want to use soccer to help pay for college. 3.5 GPA or higher and awesome soccer skills, I think that’s doable. My writing assignments will be there when I get back. If they are not that means I’m dead and I won’t need them anyway.
I don’t live in a world of delight, so the heaviness doesn’t bother me a lot. It’s a feeling that’s telling me that my body is reacting to one of life’s stimuli (Stress).
What you wrote is spot for writing and living life.
Well said, Brian, thank you. I think half the battle is acknowledging that it’s okay to set writing aside for a period of time and pursue other things. A break is fine and healthy. And really, how can we create stories of humanity if we do not allow ourselves to taste life outside the writing cave once in a while?
Thank you so much for this post! I have bipolar II disorder, and I suffer from severe depression, much milder mania, and really bad mixed episodes (combining the worst of depression and mania). I’ve noticed a seasonal aspect to it; spring (March through May) and fall (September and October) are my most unstable months. I have to be kinder to myself in those times and not berate myself for not producing fabulous writing every day. (I usually read a lot and call it research or refilling the creative well or something else to make me feel better.) Being mentally ill is tough enough without adding unnecessary mental stress to it.
Thanks for writing this. Thanks also to all the writers who have commented; your stories help me to know that I am not alone.
~hugs hugs and more hugs~
We do have a rhythm to our lives and it’s good to pay attention to them — diurnal, lunar, annual. When my kids were babies, I was a night-time writer. But now, like most parents of school-age children, my productivity is high during fall and spring. I still find those night-time hours highly productive. I also noticed a bump in my winter productivity since moving to SC (from the Pacific NW). The sunshine here sure is a blessing.
Thank you for the comment. :-)
Decreased productivity due to changes in circumstances, or our current stage of life, is definitely nothing to downplay. When my son is off school in the summer, I do most of my writing/reading at night after he’s gone to bed. It’s just not possible to work when he up and about and constantly demanding my attention–and I wouldn’t want him to stop being a kid, either, for the sake of my work.
So it goes. Flexibility is key.
I’m so depressed right now it hurts physically. I get this way every March, April, May. Fortunately, the depression doesn’t affect my writing – the writing is what gets me through my depression. It gives me a purpose and a reason for living. Thanks for sharing this.
I’m sorry to hear you’re in a down period right now, but I’m glad you’re able to keep writing through it. That is positive traction in the sludge of negativity. ~hugs~
Lydia, I live near Seattle and suffer from SADD. The main
impacts are feeling blah and my writing productivity drops to about
20% of my summertime output. Coffee helps a little. For $400 you
can buy a full-spectrum light that helps many people. But I found a
simple grow light, costing about $10, focused on my work area helps
tremendously. Blahs go away and my winter productivity doubles or
triples. Maybe some of the other writers out there can benefit from
my “cheap” cure.
How interesting, thank you!
Well said. Thank you.
I appreciate the comment, Robin. :-)
What a helpful and generous post, Lydia. Looks like you’ve already helped some people a great deal with it. Another win to add to your week of heightened productivity.
Thankfully, I don’t suffer from anything other than “four kids + day job syndrome” but I’ve realized over the past few months that there are certain year-over-year periods of repeat craziness brought on by those elements, and I need to do a better job of aligning periods of research, drafting and revising around those things, to keep the general freneticness of the household to a manageable level. So, your work-according-to-season approach is helpful for me, too.
And I will say that even for someone who doesn’t historically face SAD, this winter was an SOB.
My Dr. told me that people who are normally not affected by “cabin fever” were affected by it this year. How interesting…
I wonder if this change is going to become more and more or if it will cycle back to the way it used to be…
Indeed. ;-)
I’m glad you found this helpful in figuring out your own process, Julie.
Like many of the writers who commented before me, I write through the depression. For me, it’s less about trying to get over it, or managing it, and more about wanting to capture the feelings consuming me, the thoughts burning my brain, so I can use them later in my work. I know my characters will feel depressed, lost, hopeless, worthless, broken, empty, at some time in their lives, and my having been through it will give an authenticity to their struggles. But I have to get it down as I’m feeling it, or it will be lost to me in my happier times. Using my pain, wringing out the raw, bare feelings from it, giving it voice, is what gets me through it. Love to you all.
Sophia Ryan / She Likes It Irish
That is an effective approach, Sophia. Writing can be good therapy. Thank you so much for sharing. :-)
Lydia, I have SAD, too. Both consistent exercise and light therapy help, though the irony is I can forget to use both when I’m in the deepest of my glooms.
I also agree 100% that it’s important not to compound the misery with unrealistic expectations, and to know one’s personal limitations and learn to work around them.
So glad you’re feeling better, and that we have another six months of sunshine before SAD becomes an issue!
Thank you, Jan. ~hugs~
I do believe another reason my productivity spikes in spring is because I am more physically active–daily walks through the neighborhood–that can’t be a coincidence. The less I move, the less I want to move, which spirals into mental exhaustion from lack of physical anything. Sure, you can exercise indoors, but it’s not the same as getting out and stretching your legs and watching the scenery change as you go by.
Thank you. I really needed to hear this (especially point #2). I have depression and it’s been much harder to cope with since I moved farther north two years ago; the seasonal changes (and lack of sunlight) drag me down something awful. I’d been coping better this year, but the past few weeks have been pretty rough and I’ve been feeling guilty for not writing. I definitely need to accept that it’s okay to give myself a break when my brain chemistry isn’t cooperating.
You’re very welcome. And thank you for speaking out too. :-)
This was a very interesting post for me, and I appreciate it. I am working on my debut novel now. The problem is, I have been working on it for quite some time. I thought that I was a free spirit, so I tried being a “pantser” and that did not work for me. So, I decided that I needed to plot so it wouldn’t fall apart, yet it did. Then I started over. It seems like I just can’t decide on a plot, and now I am trying to decide between one book, or splitting it into a trilogy or a series. Summer seems to be my slowest, least poductive time. I live in Las Vegas, NV, where it gets to be about 117 F in the summer months. Too hot! :)
Ouch, that is way too hot! I feel for you on that one. Wishing you the best of luck on your writing journey–whatever you do, do it with confidence and courage. :-)
Thank you, brave woman (and all the other brave folks who shared, too). I often tell people that since most writers seem to either have depression or alcoholism, I’m glad I fall in the first group . . . I do like a glass of Riesling in the summer and a Syrah in the winter. I’d be sad if others didn’t think I should.
My depression’s been with me since I was 16 . . . as an adult, I have found ways to mostly manage it, but man it’s a doozey of an illness. That said (and I can say this now, right at this moment, because I’m stable), I am often grateful for it. I can offer empathy to others; I can try to be honest about it and (I hope) do something to erase the stigma of mental health, and I can know true pain. I wouldn’t be as sensitive if I didn’t have this mental illness, and I wouldn’t be a writer if I weren’t so sensitive. So there. Gratitude!
Rock on, girl! I’ll do the same. :)
I’ve never been much of a drinker, Sarah, so I guess my depression was inevitable. ;-)
I really appreciate the educational and empathetic stance you’ve taken in this arena. Thank you for the lovely, encouraging comment.
Yep. All of it. My cycle is a bit different. I use those cold, dark, depressing winter months as my most productive drafting time. It’s the only way I can make winter seem productive and it actually has helped me combat seasonal affective disorder. I drafted a novel in January and February and I will edit this spring. I’m already thinking about the next one, but I won’t have enough to go on until I give it time to build up over the spring, summer, and fall. Then it will overflow (hopefully) onto the page in winter.
Great post!
Thanks, Erin!
I am very familiar with the “I don’t write every day – therefore I am useless and I am deffinetly not writer” depressions…
As much as I keep telling myself that everyone has it is own process, it is rooted too deep, so I have to just start again, so I could get better.
But maybe I will wait untill the end of the month, maybe the stolen hour will boost me too! :)
Best of luck to you, Marketa. ~hugs~
This was a marvelously encouraging post — thank you, Lydia. I’m a writer who suffers from depression, something I’ve only recently gotten treatment for, and I’ve been in a big state of adjustment, and I haven’t written a thing or even pushed “publish” on my blog in over a month. I needed to hear that I am not wrong. A season of adjustment may be just what I need. Or reading this might be the spur to get writing again. In any case, a big thank you. And hooray Spring!! This year, we in Michigan need it more than ever.
I have recently gotten treatment, as well. The adjustment is hard on my writing. Sometimes, I wonder if my writing was just a way of coping.
Then, I look at my writing. and realize, I’m a better writer since my treatment began.
I only write this to let others know they’re not alone in this. We are here, in the writing community. Or, at least, I am…
Thanks for your response, Jen — it is truly moving to me this morning that I’m not alone.
I’m glad you’re figuring it out, Natalie. Adjustment periods can be so very difficult.
I’m glad you mentioned blogging too. I noticed a similar pattern in my blog motivation as well, and didn’t understand how it was all related until recently. The fact that I haven’t published a new blog post (on my personal blog, not WU) since November is proof that this past winter was the hardest. I may not ever be a regular blogger again–not like I used to–but at least now I know why I had such a struggle with it over the years.
This has been great, reading your post and all the responses to it. Great to discover that I am not alone. I thought at times it was SAD, but even sunny crisp winter days or the most beautiful summer day can bring on a bout of the dark spirits. I’m still learning how to work around it without punishing myself too much for not writing enough.
Good luck to you, Marina. :-)
Fantastic post Lydia, thanks. I work to exactly the same cycle and had always thought it was just laziness or lack of commitment. As so many others have said, it’s good to find that it’s far from uncommon. However, I don’t have a problem with blogging. I can happily blog away all year round, with no discernible change. It’s the novel which suffers with the seasons. I have no idea why…
“had always thought it was just laziness or lack of commitment” – yes, exactly this. So refreshing to know the truth, isn’t it? Thank you for sharing your experience, Jon. :-)
Hi Lydia,
Thank you for posting this! I deal with seasonal depression too and sometimes that effects when I write. Other times my job/life just needs to take precedent, and I recognize that. Sometimes I go months without writing, but when I do sit down I end up producing more than I would have if I forced myself to put something on the page every single day. Everyone has a different process. I respect people who know they need a regiment and stick to it. I’m not one of those people, and it’s nice to know that people like us aren’t alone!
Sarah
Well said, Sarah, thanks so much!
[…] Lydia Sharp, who discovered that her process involves writing in spring and summer and not so much in winter (because of seasonal affective disorder), says, “. . . each of us must learn how to embrace our own process, and how to not compare it to anyone else’s.” Fortunately, as Donald Maass says in Writing 21st Century Fiction, “[t]he process doesn’t matter, but the outcome does.” […]
[…] this morning, from Lydia Sharp, about seasonal writing cycles. I think we all have these cycles. I do, even if mine isn’t tied to seasonal affective […]
I get sick of reading about authors who write every day, who stick to a schedule no matter what. I too am an author who goes for periods of time without writing. It’s also a seasonal thing with me, but not so much because of the seasons. Traumatic experiences from my past make certain times of the year hard for me and productivity is the farthest thing from my mind. As these incidents lose their grip on me, I am becoming more productive, but I’ll never force myself if uninspired.
Unfortunately, I can relate to your issue as well. Stay strong. ~hugs~
Lydia –
you have made another think-alike and feel-alike pen pal/follower here just by having had the courage to put the words down. Black on white.
I have been so affected all my life that, changing continent and climates, my sad moods have morphed within the places I have called homes. Where in Tuscany (Italy) summer was my most favorite rebirth season, down in Miami it is the season when I would like to hibernate and resurface in the fall. Opposite to you, winter is when I rejoice (I am convinced Miami gives us hell in the summer so that, past hurricane season and survived, we can only fall in love again with it). But that is because of the perfect season without a cloud in the sky.
Thank you for your perspective and looking forward to reading more from you.
Francesca
Thank you for sharing this. :-)
It all boils down to this: as this degenerative disease and the medication take more and more of my artistic ability (at times brilliance), I wish for one more brief period of inspiration so that I may finally write what I have never been able: a love song worthy of you.
Thank you, hubby. ~kisses~
Lydia, I think it’s wonderful that you shared how you get down. It’s great that you can recognize it and have figured how to not only get through it but also write around it.
Thanks so much, Theresa. :-)
I’m with you Lydia. I’m so glad you wrote this. I’m not quite out gof my slump now, and you post reminds me that I’ll be happier soon. I can write some very short things during my “low” months but it takes so much energy to write a page that it hardly seems worth it. I read those things in the summer sometimes and can’t believe I wrote them. I also paint and it works about the same as the writing. Oh well, so it goes.
I’m glad you found this helpful, Marianne. ~hugs~
Yup. That’s me, too. I keep saying to my husband, we have to move south. I need more light. This hemisphere is killing me. But until that day, I have to rely on his support, my stack of books, and my SAD lamp, all of which I keep by me all winter long.
My years begins in March. I struggle through winter and then, ping, a switch flips and I’m on my way again. It’s a new year for me now, and all is right with the world.
Thanks for giving me permission to just roll with it.
Enjoy the spring in your spring!
Sarah
Thanks so much for the comment, Sarah. It feels like you plucked this right out of my head. Wishing you the best of luck in everything you do. :-)
I just set a post to publish in the morning on this very topic. Going back to add a link here.
I do have strong seasons and off seasons, though I write best from October-March and spend April-September storing up life, promoting, working with other writers. I’ve embraced it after struggling a few years to understand it. I still write in the off season, but more non-fiction things. Great piece!
It seems the ability to embrace something like this always comes after years of struggle. I’m so glad you’re on the positive side of it now. :-)
[…] in which we write best? (As soon as I had this post ready to go, I found Lydia Sharp’s Seasonal Writing Disorder on the same […]
I usually find that spring is my most productive time and hence I have the most to write about. Summer is typically a low point as other people have demands on my time but because of the longer daylight hours I often get things done in the evening which would otherwise be spent watching the TV. Autumn is my worst time for work but winter seems to be the best time for new ideas.
Thank you so much for this post. This has been my worst winter yet, compounded by a trying living situation. I struggle with depression year round, but it is definitely worse in the winter months. I’m still feeling pretty down now, but I do live in Montana, so spring is still kind of a pipe dream here, except for little teasers here and there.
I will take a look back and try to understand this cycle better, so I can make my good times work better for me. Thank you!
Lydia, my favorite part of this was the list at the end. “You. Are not. Wrong.” Thank you. I’ve held myself to an exhausting work ethic for too long, buying into the myth that if I don’t write when I don’t want to, then I’m not taking it seriously enough, not treating it like the job it is. Thanks for pointing out that it’s okay to ease up sometimes, especially when you’re just not feelin’ it. Because pushing through when it’s going badly sometimes just exacerbates the problem. “What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I think of the right words? Why would I rather be doing anything else–including sitting in the dentist’s chair–than sitting in front of this computer? Is this it? Have I lost it? Am I finished?” It’s impossible to write with such doubt constantly nagging in the background. I’m not sure my SWD always coincides with a the same time of year every year, but the peaks and valleys are definitely cyclical. I do try to remind myself when I’ve hit a valley that “this, too, shall pass,” but now I can add something else: “You. Are not. Wrong.” Thank you!
What you described for December/January/February sounds
like me right now. Mine usually start in November, right around the
time the holidays start. No idea when I fall out of this slump. I
can’t recall early last year. It was great to read this post. Had a
nice “I’M NOT ALONE!” moment. Thanks.
I have struggled with this problem for years. By late
winter, I’ll wear T-shirts in the car just to maximize any light I
can possibly get. It is such a difficult thing to work
through.
I forgot to mention something that might cheer you up. I have a solar powered watch that’s getting a bit old now. It suffers from SAD in that it does not get enough light in the Winter to charge up enough to run through the night so typically it’s stopped by the morning waiting for the sun.
[…] sure, is that I have seasonal affective
disorder, so winters are always really hard for me (see Lydia
Sharp’s fantastic post about this), but I took a couple
weeks to really analyze where these feelings were coming from.
[…]
Dear Lydia,
Not sure where you live, but I now reside in rainy Vancouver B.C. and it was a hard transition when I moved here from sunny California. As much as I empathize and value the compassionate blog responses above, very few people have addressed the tools available to help cope with and conquer seasonal writing disorder. I shudder to hear “embrace the process.” I used to erroneously believe that suffering through this condition was a glorious penalty for my deep insight as a writer. It was a lie to assume that my depression added to my art; like any prisoner, if one can get free, one should. Therefore, here’s my personal recipe for a normal regulated writing life:
1.) EXERCISE. Run, don’t walk. Outside. In the rain. 4xweek.
2.) SAD LAMP. First thing, turn it on before you turn off the alarm.
3.) MEDICATION. See your doctor! My personal diagnosis of adult ADD has meant meds which I find also clear up winter SAD. Being productive in winter starts a positive cycle.
4.) DIET. Caffeine, refined sugar, or alcohol could cause me to crash if I wasn’t stabilized by 1-3 above. Cooked leafy greens always, always help, as does cod liver oil.
5.) ALTERNATIVE THERAPIES. I actually love getting acupuncture.
Peace to all, Susan (Latest blog: https://pulpliterature.com/the-joy-of-editing/)