Ebb and Flow: A Season for Writing… and Forgiveness
By Kasey LeBlanc | August 31, 2022 |
This past Friday at sundown began the Jewish month of Elul, the last month of the year and a month for teshuvah, a word often translated as repentance, but which more literally means return. I’ve spent the past couple of years working towards my conversion and learning about the cycle of the Jewish year. And as I write this post, it has me thinking about other cycles in our lives, about the natural ebbs and flows of people and nature, and so, in the spirit of Elul, this is not my usual advice post. Instead, this post is an apology, a forgiveness, and a reminder.
But first, I have a confession to make.
I’ve barely written since last November. It isn’t that the creative well has run dry. I have a new novel idea I’m eager to dive into, edits due on my current book and plenty of ways to improve it, and a short story idea I’ve been mulling over for more than a year now.
Furthermore, I know I feel better emotionally when I’m writing on a consistent basis. I feel more accomplished, more creative. I generate more ideas and the writing improves in turn. Sometimes I write so consistently and so much that I even impress myself. Back in October 2018, when my current novel was little more than an idea and 5,000 words of a draft, I decided I wanted to apply to GrubStreet’s Novel Incubator Program. The application was due mid-February of 2019, and I would need to submit an entire manuscript draft to even apply. So I logged onto the NaNoWriMo website, opened Scrivener and began working.
I wrote every day for a month and a half and by mid-December had an 85,000 word draft. I wrote 80,000 words in six weeks y’all. That’s nearly 2,000 words each and every day.
I’m not sure I’ve written more than 2,000 words in the past six months.
This isn’t the first time I’ve been in the “ebbing” portion of this ebb and flow cycle of writing. I thrive on novelty and work best (and often only) under the pressure of a deadline (some of you may be unsurprised to learn that I am currently looking into being tested for ADHD), and can go months at a time without touching a story. It’s not… ideal to say the least. It can be frustrating to feel like you aren’t reaching your potential, to feel like you’ve got a story trapped inside and can’t get it out. Even more frustrating when you have proof of just how high you can soar.
Under the right conditions.
Conditions that are vague and elusive, that seem to work sometimes and not others.
Conditions that feel like trying to map out an ever-shifting maze when everyone else sees a straight corridor.
It doesn’t help when so much writing advice from published authors is about consistency. Writing every day. Butt in the chair, hands on the keyboard. It sounds so simple, so easy. So when I fail to do it, over, and over, and over again, the sense of shame and failure hits harder. Maybe I just don’t want this enough. Maybe I’m just lazy. Or when well-meaning friends tell me that I can’t possibly have ADHD. Or that we all have a little ADHD. Or prod me to just sit down and write one word. Just one word. But sometimes just the act of sitting down to produce that one word can feel like surmounting Mt. Everest.
But in the spirit of the month, I’m taking account, turning inwards, and making amends. And so, to my past, current, and future self –
I am sorry for all the times I’ve judged you by your worst writing days rather than your best, and all the times I’m likely to do it again.
I am sorry for trying to force you to conform to a rhythm that isn’t your own. Just as a farmer must sometimes leave a field fallow to allow it to grow again, so too will I have seasons of replenishment, seasons for reading books and binging tv, seasons for hanging with old friends and investigating new hobbies.
Just like the crabapple tree in front of my old dorm, or the lilac bushes that bloom in the spring, I might shine brightest for only a small part of the year. And though I sometimes aspire to be as consistent as an evergreen tree, I can no more hold onto my needles than the great oak tree can maintain its grasp on the beautiful reds, oranges, and yellows of autumn. And that’s okay.
To my past, current, and future self –
I forgive you. It isn’t wrong to aspire to more, or be frustrated when my expectations outstrip my reality. And sometimes I really do just need a good kick in the butt to stop wallowing and get to work.
And finally, a reminder – for myself, and for those of you facing similar struggles –
There is no one-size-fits-all writing advice. The tools that work for someone else might be woefully insufficient for your needs. Just as teshuvah literally means return, what makes you a writer isn’t how many words you write each day, but the choice you make to return to those words once again, however long it takes, however hard it may be.
Do you struggle to write consistently? How do you return after a dry spell? What are the ways you can be kinder to yourself in the writing process?
Kasey LeBlanc (he / him) is a graduate of Harvard College and of GrubStreet’s Novel Incubator program, where he was an Alice Hoffman Fellow. His debut novel, FLYBOY, will be released by Balzer + Bray (HarperCollins) in May 2024. He has been published by WBUR’s Cognoscenti, Condé Nast’s them, and was a finalist in 2019 for the Boston Public Library’s Writer-in-Residence Position.
[coffee]
Thank you for this beautiful reminder. I have struggled with these cycles, too. And spent far too much time in the past few years beating myself up because I struggled to get words on the page.
Ultimately, I try to honor the process and my own ebb and flow. It’s not easy and it helps to know I’m not alone.
Thank you Lisa. Definitely not alone <3
Thank you Casey for placing this topic into the cycle of the Jewish year. I am a Jewish lesbian author who is also struggling with getting back to writing and thinking about forgiving myself and starting anew is incredibly helpful.
I’m so glad this resonated with you Cindy! And I hope it helps as you move forward <3
Oh, Kasey, this moved me to tears. I’ve most certainly been in that ebb of my writing life, waiting for the flow to return, and beating myself up because it hasn’t. There are myriad reasons for this. Your advice on forgiveness is exactly what I needed to read and may provide the same kick in the butt to get back in the flow. Thank you.
I truly hope it does. And that it serves as a reminder the next time you need to provide yourself some grace. I know this is a reminder I’m likely to need for myself in the future!
Yep, yep, yep. This is me. The fallow and the flush. But I’m a seasons girl in general, so I’m trying to embrace it. Because the act of writing needs to be something that brings me joy, not anxiety.
“Because the act of writing needs to be something that brings me joy, not anxiety” — so true, Erin, and a great way to frame things!
Oh, this is exactly what I needed to see after a summer in which I did not finish all my writing goals! Thank you.
You are most welcome! I hope it was a restorative summer :)
Oh, wow do I feel this. It has been A YEAR, and I had no idea it would be when I signed up for a class that requires fairly consistent and large chunks of writing be turned in every month or two. To say I’m falling short (and turning on way more revision pages than new pages) is an understatement. The next turn in is mid September and I have not yet STARTED due to getting COVID right after a vacation. Now I get to deal with surgery prep doctor appointments. Like you, I suspect I have ADHD, so I have hope the upcoming deadline – interestingly enough the same day as my surgery – will put me in enough a panic mode to accomplish anything.
I am working on forgiving myself for this very long ebb, and trying to trust that the flow will return when I’m ready for it.
Oof, do I totally feel all of this! I certainly hope you feel the beneficial side of your (suspected) ADHD once “imminent deadline mode” kicks in, and best of luck with the surgery!
Thank you so much for sharing this beautiful essay, Kasey. I feel you ‘in the basement’ here, but also your determination; that drive and hunger that will see you through. And time ‘in the basement’ is never really wasted on a writer; that’s where all the best fodder lives. Write on, friend.
Thank you Therese <3
As an old crabapple tree myself, I felt this one in the roots: “I am sorry for all the times I’ve judged you by your worst writing days rather than your best, and all the times I’m likely to do it again.”
Mighty have been my ebbs, but there is ever hope of flow. Kasey, thank you for a stirring post.
Tom, your ad here is arresting! You sold me.
Oh Vijaya, don’t tell your kids you are taking up shoplifting now.
Thank you Tom <3
I love this article. I think we have to accept our own writing process, and it differs for everyone. I think it also helps, in quieter or hibernating periods, to give thanks for all we have done in our work and lives: those two chapters, that article, that friendship, that walk in the park. It doesn’t work well to always feel bad that we are not doing all we feel we should. We all have so much to stand on!
Absolutely! I’m a big believer in gratitude (even more than I’m a believer in cathartic complaining!) And I certainly have much to be grateful for. Thank you for this comment!
Kasey, you are already a successful trad published author. And you have a debut novel, FLYBOY, coming out in 2024. So you are a giant step ahead of me. I only self-published a debut book in May 2022. And have a sequel in progress. Butt in the chair, hands on the keyboard everyday! What you go through, the ups and downs, seem to work for you, ADHD and all. I almost wish I could say I have the same problems, if I was as successful. Your bio is impressive. I know it’s the Jewish month of Elul, a time of repentance, return, apology, and forgiveness. If my comment comes across as somewhat blunt, I apologize, forgive me! Write on through your flow! 📚 Christine
Thank you Christine, and congrats on your self-published novel! Certainly I’m grateful for the success I’ve had, but hopefully my post is a good reminder that we don’t always know how someone is struggling behind the scenes! Sometimes I think it would be beneficial if our bios left some room to talk about those parts as well. Wishing you all the best on your sequel!
This post should have come with a warning: Do not read this at work as it may lead to crying. I read those apologies and that forgiveness to myself and was moved. Yes, it is about the return–even a faltering return is still a return. Thank you for this–I didn’t know how much I needed it.
I’m so glad to hear it was needed (but feel like I should apologize for the work tears!). Thank you for such a lovely comment <3
Kasey, how lovely that you are turning to the liturgical life and applying it to the writing life. Repentance and Forgiveness. Oh how they set us free to accept ourselves. I’ve struggled mightily to accomplish anything this summer and I’m going to the beach later this evening to play in the waves because the water won’t be warm for too much longer…and the writing will be there. Ideas are stacking up. It’s a wonder my brain doesn’t explode. Here’s to more flow and fewer ebbs.
To more flow and fewer ebbs, indeed! The beach sounds delightful — I hope it was!
As you can tell from the comments already posted above mine, your sentiments resonate deeply with many of us. Funny enough, I once posted here (many years ago) building on a similar point and the “fallow fields” analogy: https://staging-writerunboxed.kinsta.cloud/2016/05/18/fallow-fields-an-argument-for-letting-your-creativity-rest/
In your post today, I felt particularly struck by the beauty and aptness of comparing myself to “the lilac bushes that bloom in the spring, I might shine brightest for only a small part of the year. And though I sometimes aspire to be as consistent as an evergreen tree, I can no more hold onto my needles than the great oak tree can maintain its grasp on the beautiful reds, oranges, and yellows of autumn. And that’s okay.”
Indeed indeed. Thank you.
Thank you Kristin! And looking forward to reading through your post. Thanks for linking it in!
Thanks so much for this article that releases so many of us from the “rules” of having to write every day to be a writer. I particularly like the ending of your essay, “There is no one-size-fits-all writing advice. The tools that work for someone else might be woefully insufficient for your needs. Just as teshuvah literally means return, what makes you a writer isn’t how many words you write each day, but the choice you make to return to those words once again, however long it takes, however hard it may be.”
My fallow times in recent years have been dictated primarily by health problems that make it difficult to write. My career started in journalism, so I learned early on, eons ago, to write when I had to even when I didn’t feel like it. Deadlines were good at creating that push. So for years, I had little trouble with writing every day that I put my butt in the chair and my fingers on the keyboard. Now it’s so much harder with meds and pain that turn my brain to mush sometimes. Still, I do have good days now and then, and I can make progress on a WIP that has been limping along for almost two years now.
Thank you for this. I’m glad there are still good days, and I hope you have many more!