Bee Still My Writing — Why and How I’m Taking Time Off
By Liz Michalski | January 26, 2018 |
Photo by AJC1
It’s been a hard year, writing-wise.
A book I love isn’t being loved back by anyone in publishing at the moment. This book took more of my time and of my soul to finish than I’d like to admit, but in the publishing world, that’s never a guarantee of success.
Another book that I’m revising has gotten ideas from witnessing the first book’s failure. This second book stomps its feet and sticks out its tongue as if it’s a sullen child. “I won’t! I won’t do what you say!” it tells me every time I try to prod it into shape. “Why should I?”
Why indeed?
Add to the pile the dark clouds and political uncertainty looming over my country, and it’s very hard to rustle up my writing mojo. But if writing is optional, if no one is waiting for a story, does that story exist? And even if it does, is it worth telling?
I don’t know the answer to that at the moment, despite the fiercely insistent voice inside my head that demands I take the question back, that says that story is all that really matters, no matter what form it takes. This blog post is story. The narrative my children share when I pick them up in the car is story. The evening news, the morning headlines, the history books being written — all story.
What I do know is that my brain is tired. It does not want to make the story, or fix the story, or somedays even be a part of the story. It wants rest and cuddles and time in bed and hot tea. On weekends and holidays it wants champagne and maybe a chance to go ice skating before anyone notices it has snuck out of the house. It does not want to write.
I could make it (me) write. I’ve done it before. As a reporter and then as a freelancer, I’ve spent plenty of time writing when I didn’t particularly feel like it. A deadline, my editor once said, is the best possible cure for writer’s block. Although I don’t have a deadline for this fiction book, I could pretend, could make myself sit in the chair until the allotted number of words or pages has been met.
But I find I’m treating this situation more like a running injury. I’ve hurt myself in the past and oftentimes just decided to “gut it out” — to run injured, thinking the movement would loosen up the muscles, make it easier to continue. Sometimes it worked.
And sometimes, it made everything worse.
So I’m trying a new approach. A kind of writing physical therapy, if you will, a way to build up those muscles without actually using them for writing. My prescription includes:
More reading for pleasure. I want to reread some of the classics that always inspire me, as well as check out new books friends have recommended. I want to remind my brain what if feels like to appreciate a finely-honed sentence for its own sake.
More time spent in nature, less time on social media. To fight burnout, my brain cells need to bathe in green spaces and sunshine. (Being from New England, right now that translates into snow and cold, but the general idea still applies.) Peace and quiet, not the shrillness of the online world, are required.
A new way of looking at the world. Words aren’t the only way to tell a story. I’ve decided to sign up for an online drawing class this year. I’ve always wanted to be able to sketch — and if sketching is too ambitious, I’ll settle for being able to doodle. But I want to be able to capture scenes and emotions without necessarily having to write them down. I’m hoping that growing my skill in this area may translate to more fluency in my writing, too, that it will give me different tools to express myself, perhaps even help me to see more clearly what I want to say.
And while I’m eschewing most forms of social media, I’m finding myself intrigued by Instagram and Pinterest and the often wordless stories that are told there. I find myself looking for vignettes to capture and share during the course of my day, which is helping me to slow down, appreciate the physical world, and get out of my head a bit.
New skills. I want to stretch my brain and make it grow, give it food to chew on that it’s never tried before. So I’m signing up for a class in something I’ve always wanted to learn about — bee keeping. I’m thinking it will be the perfect mix of reading and hands-on work, and with luck I’ll come out of it with a new vocabulary, new skills, and possibly even some honey. How can it not “bee” successful? (Plus, just look at the opportunity for puns!)
With luck, time, and patience, I’m hoping my writing mojo will return without being forced.
Now it’s your turn — how do you feel about your writing these days? If you’ve lost your way, what strategies are you using to bring yourself back?
[coffee]
Liz Michalski’s (she/her) second novel, Darling Girl, was published in 2022 by Dutton. Her first novel, Evenfall, was published by Berkley Books (Penguin). Liz has been a reporter, an editor, and a freelance writer. In her previous life, she wrangled with ill-tempered horses and oversized show dogs. These days she’s downsized to one husband, two children and a medium-sized mutt.
Hi Liz,
Sometimes simply giving ourselves permission to not do something is enough to empower us to do it. Maybe it’s a bit of the child in our subconscious that doesn’t want to be told what to do.
Either way, I wish you a future of many pleasures, writing or otherwise, and I suspect if you are like most of the writers I know, you’ll be back at it with fresh eyes and optimism sooner than you think.
Stephanie
Thank you Stephanie. With luck the reverse psychology will work!
Love this, Liz. Your therapy is just what I do in such moods. And really, when we make time for those things regularly, I think the writing becomes more joyful and hopefully a bit easier, whatever that means. I hope you experience a time of true restoration which will renew your strength for writing the books to come.
Thank you Erin. Logging off on social media seems to be making the most difference right now — it’s giving my brain room to breathe.
I have learned that when I don’t feel like doing something, I have to give myself 15 minutes. I try the task for 15 minutes. If I am still staring at a blank page or feel frustrated, then perhaps I need time off or a day of rest. And there is nothing wrong with reading in the meantime. We are supposed to read, read, read, whether in our genre of writing choice or just for fun and inspiration. I think you are on the right track with taking a break. Pushing and pushing doesn’t make for good story. Enjoy your break and I will keep you in my thoughts as your journey towards a revitalized writing life rekindles.
Thank you for keeping me in your thoughts, Marsha! And I’m definitely looking forward to more time for reading!
When I can’t summon the will to write, I open up my draft in Scrivener, pick a scene, and start reading — and then revising.
I enjoy reading my story, more than I enjoy reading most anything else– I would hope all authors feel that way, for who can write for you better than you can? And maybe I’m odd, but I enjoy revising it, too — spending hours on a single section, pruning, shaping, amplifying, and refining until I’m unreservedly proud of what I have there.
And then sometimes I’m ready to write something new, to add to the quarter-million words of the 90%-complete first-third of the SF trilogy that I’ll someday pare down or split into (hopefully) a debut novel.
Perhaps this is a privilege that only aspiring authors who have a good “day job” can indulge in. Perhaps it’s something only for those who enjoy the journey more than the destination. If so, I’m glad I’m that fortunate.
I’m at the opposite stage right now — I’m revising and it is slow and painful. But necessary, and I’m hoping to love the story more when it is done. Good luck with your revising and with your SF trilogy!
I’m with you, Liz. I feel I have this great novel, but it refuses to offer me the perfect start. Every option is a naughty child who eventually disappoints, so I go back to giving birth to a new one. But my love is eternal. I too find reading a way to refresh and find new energy. I take notes. I explore new territory. Social media on some days lifts my spirits and on others–I must stay away. That helps me return to the WORK. It’s still there, it still is full of possibility. Thanks.
That’s exactly what I am in need of — new energy! It’s not the story but me at this point. And you are right — it will be there when I return. Thank you.
Hey Liz – I’m sorry to hear about the exhaustion, but I certainly understand it. And I’m sorry for the lack of love for the book you love. (Have you read Big Magic? Gilbert has a lot to say about this.)
A while back, while a project of mine was searching for love, and it seemed to be in vain, I felt like quitting. My WIP, which had been flowing along swiftly, suddenly hit a snag. My attitude and mental exhaustion in the moment kept me from feeling like even trying to untangle myself to get back into the flow. And for a few weeks I did quit. I tackled a list of projects around the house, and while I toiled I contemplated starting another, completely different writing project.
Boy, were my characters pissed! They fought their way into my conscious thoughts again and again, in spite of my efforts to muzzle them and lock them away. They were having no part of that… And they’re tough! And sort of hotheaded. Seems nothing got their blood up more than my threat of setting them aside or ignoring them.
I think you’re aware that my WIP is a sequel to the project still searching for love. I can see that the issue was part of my problem. And perhaps thinking I could simply decide to set it aside, and the epic failure that followed, helped me to realize how foolish it was to concern myself with anything other than telling the damn story. None of the rest of it matters.
If and when I ever get to my deathbed (as opposed to, you know, getting hit by a truck or something), I know that it’ll matter much more to me to have worked each day, and to have told these stories to the best of my ability. After all, they came to me searching for a reliable human partner to bring them to life. How could I ever string them along for over a decade, then abandon them, so close to “the end.”
That’s just me – what I’ve discovered about myself. Wishing you restfulness and revitalization. And honey! You deserve a sweet reward.
Liz, I am glad you are taking your own wonderful advice. It strikes me as the macro version of the well-known micro-tactic of getting away from our work for 15 minutes to do something completely different, then returning with the head all scoured out and ready for a fresh start. It has worked for me, as for others, many times.
This many-faceted program of nourishing yourself/creative self (is there any difference?) has all the variety necessary to be effective. Reading for pleasure, living in nature, exercising other forms of creativity, developing unrelated skills–all these time-honored activities are guaranteed to bring pleasure and growth. Hey–it’s what a good primary school would provide! Why not for us?
Some time ago I was so bogged down in my WIP that I made a firm decision not to do it, even though it had been a cherished dream for such a long time that I’m embarrassed to admit how long. I was just plain tired of false starts that led only to a swamp or an impenetrable jungle. That decision freed me up to just live–until the desire to get back to the book refreshed itself and let me know it was ready for me.
There’s definitely virtue in the working every day Vaughn, and I’m hoping to get back to that point. It’s not a divorce, exactly — more a trial separation. The distance will do both of us some good.
I have read Big Magic, and I’m thinking of downloading it so I can listen to it on carpooling runs for inspiration. Thank you for the reminder.
I hope I didn’t come off sounding preachy, and especially not about the “daily” effort thing. I think the word “work” is where I went wrong. I was thinking more along the lines of living in the moment each day, and applying that philosophy to my writing journey, as well.
I’m absolutely certain that the distance will offer perspective. Wishing you the very best!
Nevah, as we say here in New England, Vaughn. You always give great advice and I’m always happy to hear it.
XXOOO
Anna, I think I’ve gotten my balance wrong this past year — too much time working and not enough time feeding my brain and moving my body. I love your preschool analogy — it’s perfect. With luck, the desire to write (which is what I miss) will come back if I am patient.
On the rare occasions when my brain is willing to give me a rest from writing, I love walking outside and making watercolor paintings too hideous to share with other people. (I’m just not much of an artist.) I once took a break for two years. The writing was still there when I came back.
Even if they are ugly, I am so impressed that you can paint watercolors! I have absolutely no artistic talent whatsoever, which is why I am excited by this online art class, which swears it can teach anyone. We’ll see how that goes…
Hi, Liz:
Your story is sadly all too common these days. I wrote the book of my career only to find no one wanted it, except a small publisher who most likely cannot do it justice without considerable additional effort from an expensive private publicist.
Meanwhile, I’m getting editing work from an operation that has made several authors famous, only to be told I’m not fast enough, with the insinuation I don’t work hard. It’s galling, and strange.
I lost one wife, I don’t intend to spend all my time in this marriage slaving away for “success.” I know how little time we have together.
And yet I continue to write. The next book raised an eyebrow when I explained it to a writer friend who cranks out mysteries, one per year. I don’t write that kind of book. She saw no point in my effort.
More nature, less social media. More reading for pleasure. Wise choices. Physician, heal thyself.
David, I applaud your priorities. I feel the same way — my family comes first, because my time with them is so short and limited. May we both find balance … and success … in the coming year.
Liz, I’m so sorry you are facing burnout. It reminded me of the excellent article on summit fever just a few days ago. Having another outlet for your creativity, learning new things, and being outside should be inviting to your muse. I hope she returns soon.
This year my youngest aunt corralled me into collecting and writing family stories and I’m in the thick of it. So many memories. I’m also studying poetry and writing a poem a day (most are terrible) and working on a secret project…lots of fun and daydreaming.
Vijaya, a poem a day?! I’m so impressed. (Also, I love getting a poem a day via the Academy of American Poets — do you subscribe?) And the family story collection sounds so meaningful. What a lovely way to connect with the past and hone your craft.
Hi Liz,
Thanks for sharing your story and your plans. They smack of wisdom and peace.
On many occasions, I have gone through times of frustrating anxiety over my writing. Then I realized it wasn’t the writing, it was all the pressure of promotion and worry about getting published that cause my discomfort. I would like my stories to reach more readers, but I’ve found what matters most to me is the love of writing.
This year, I decided to think of my writing as a hobby, not something I need for significance, validation, or profit. Immediately the weight lifted and I am flooded with the desire to write and with new ideas for my WIP.
Enjoy your year!
I’m so glad your writing mojo returned, Cheryl. The publicity and work that surrounds publishing can be a drain on mental stamina for sure. But writing for the love of writing is what sustains us.
Liz, YAY you for having the courage to step away when you know you need to. Enjoy your drawing class and learning about bees. Give your soul something fresh and new and replenishing! And if you haven’t already read it, I recommend The Secret Life of Bees (fiction). I think you’ll enjoy the “bee facts” the author used at the beginning of each chapter and how they relate to the story. Blessings!
I love The Secret Life of Bees! I’m a little nervous about this new adventure, but it will push me out of my comfort zone and work my brain, which is a good thing. We will see how it goes!
All your remedies sound wonderful and revitalising. The only thing I’d add is research. Every time I get bogged down I find a new spark from reading histories, legends, myths, geography – anything even loosely related to the story idea I’ve got going. Good luck. Enjoy the down time.
I love research as well, MA, and can spend hours chasing rabbits down holes. It’s definitely a fun and refreshing pastime!