Writer, Heal Thyself
By Vaughn Roycroft | May 22, 2023 |
Spring has finally arrived here in the Mighty Mitten. Well, on most days. As I type this, it’s 53°F under gunmetal gray clouds, with brisk winds stirring the big lake to a distant roar. But you know what? I’m sort of relieved. At this point, my weedy-but-otherwise-empty garden beds and planters are basically mocking me. Warm sunshine only makes the mockery more hurtful.
Something about spring’s arrival this year has left me… well, I guess the most fitting word is exhausted. Around here, spring brings a crop of seasonal chores. So far I have: washed the windows and screens; washed and set up two of our three porches; washed and set up our patio and its furnishings; and cleaned out the garage, attic and crawlspace—filling a dumpster in the process. All of that and somehow I feel nowhere near to being ready for summer.
Still, I know that unfinished seasonal chores and their accompanying exhaustion are only contributing factors to a general sense of overwhelm. I’ve still got a second book in a trilogy to release. I thought it would be out by now, but it wasn’t meant to be. The list of pre-publication boxes to check feels unending. The very minute book two actually releases, a new list of unchecked boxes for book three will land at the center of my desk. All the while, the list of things I should be doing to promote book one sits visibly across the desk, mocking me and shaming the other two lists into looking meaningless.
Damn, this turned into a whiney-ass opening, didn’t it? And yet, it’s how I feel. Just in case there’s anyone else who’s feeling run-down rather than revitalized by spring, I thought I’d make a list of the ways in which I’ve been seeking to nurture myself as a writer, stave off feelings of overwhelm, and beat the seasonal blues.
Find the Good—I’ve written about “flipping the script” before, right here on WU, and yet somehow I need constant reminding to do just that. Take my whiney-ass list of complaints above. So I have to wash windows and install screens. The flip side of that? I have a home with forest views and wonderful airflow. The flip of having only two of three porches summer-ready? I have THREE goddam porches—a veritable trifecta of excellent spots to relax.
How about those bookish chores—what’s the flip side of those? It’s not just that I’ve had the opportunity to work on this trilogy for a decade, to tweak and polish it to my satisfaction. On top of that, I’ve arrived here at a moment when the means to publish the story myself, and to produce three beautiful books in the process, has never been easier or more accessible.
How’s that for flipping the script on a whiney-ass opening? It doesn’t always completely cure what ails you, but for me, taking the time to find the good ALWAYS helps.
Slow Down & Take It All In—Sometimes I don’t even realize how caught up I am in a nonexistent race. My untended garden beds are a good example. Every time I look at them, I feel bad and kick myself. I see what other self-pub writers are doing, on a very regular basis, to promote themselves and their books, and the result is the same—I feel bad and blame myself.
When I slow down and think about the root causes of these feelings, I can see how often they’re born in comparing my circumstance to others. I have neighbors and friends who already have their gardens looking summer lush. But any fool can see that it’s not a race. The weather has hardly been nice enough for sitting outside and enjoying the gardens anyway. We work on our gardens for our own pleasure and fulfillment. If others enjoy them, it’s a side-benefit.
My publication journey is even less of a race. I mean, autumn will eventually put my gardening ambitions to rest. But hopefully my books will have life long past such seasonal limitations. Heck, I’m quite sure there are some fantasy readers who won’t even consider starting book one until all three books have been published. Book two will be ready when it’s ready, as will book three. Getting the details right, and enjoying the process, is far more important than the speed at which they appear. I still hope to have all three books out within a year’s time, but that’s more of an aspirational guideline than a hard-and-fast deadline. In the long haul, what difference will a month or two make?
I’m a lucky guy. I don’t need to publish my books to pay the bills. I’m doing it for my own fulfillment. If others enjoy them, it’s a huge side-benefit. A benefit that will perpetuate my fulfillment.
Avoid Contagion—There are a hundred versions of the old joke (did Groucho do it first?) that goes something like: Patient—“I have pain in my arm when I move it like this. What should I do?” Doctor—“Stop moving it like that.” For me lately, the metaphoric pain in my arm is dwelling on social media sites and keeping track of publishing stats/ratings/rankings. Partaking is like exposing myself to something that may make me unwell, so why do it? Granted, there is valuable information, communication, and connection to be found in these activities. In some instances, it’s critical to stay on top of it. But keeping my exposures brief helps to reduce the risk.
When I’m at my best, I find I can quickly peruse Twitter and IG, respond as needed, and limit my check-ins to a couple a day—in and right back out again. I try to avoid lingering and/or doomscrolling, and have been getting better. And feeling healthier for it.
Book reviews are trickier for me. I enjoy hearing the positive takeaways of readers and reviewers—it can provide needed fuel for maintaining forward momentum. I try (really hard) to avoid internalizing the negative I encounter. They say we writers need to develop thick skin, but here in my sixth decade on earth, I find that I’m pretty darn comfortable in my skin as it is, thank you. After working for over a decade to get this series to where I’m satisfied with it, I’m not looking to adjust my storytelling to fit what a few deem to be more palatable to the marketplace. After all, a story that’s palatable to all is impactful to none.
I understand that my doctor/patient and contagion exposure metaphors are a simplification. Few of us can actually simply avoid online engagement. Besides, it’s far from being all bad. Still, I like to remind myself of the absurdity of continuing to engage in behavior that I know will not provide fuel, or nourish my hope and joy.
Read Something Completely Different—As much as I love fantasy, and want to support my fellow fantasy authors (particularly the self-pub community), reading nothing but my own genre for an extended period can start to feel more like a job than a respite. Worse, I occasionally fall into the ole’ comparison game when I read too many of my fellows’ books in a row.
I’m finding that the remedy is simple. I merely intersperse my reading with books outside my genre. For example, I recently finished Strangers in the Night: A Novel of Frank Sinatra and Ava Gardner, by WU’s own Heather Webb. It was the perfect remedy, and a wonderful break in my routine. Changing it up imbues the storyteller in me with a renewed sense of curiosity and wonder. Now I’m excited to get back to my list of epic fantasy titles.
Write—If there’s one thing I hope you take away from this piece, even if it merely reinforces something you already knew, it’s this: moving forward with your writing is the best cure for whatever is ailing you artistically.
If I’m feeling down—overwhelmed or beaten-up—diving back into story is sure to make those feelings fade or disappear. Besides the immediate benefit, I’ve found that having made daily progress with a writing project inoculates me with positivity, sure to help stave off the infection of overwhelm, the internalization of unhelpful critique, or the impulse to run nonexistent races.
This journey has been the most rewarding aspect of my life. Fulfillment is found in momentum. There is no finish line, just waystations, to nourish and refuel us, propelling us onward. The goal is perpetuation not destination.
Stay healthy, friends. Doing so keeps us seeking illumination that can be shared.
How does your garden grow, WU? Is there any spring in your step? How do you self-heal?
Vaughn Roycroft’s (he/him) teacher gave him a copy of The Hobbit in the 6th grade, sparking a lifelong passion for reading and history. After college, life intervened, and Vaughn spent twenty years building a successful business. During those years, he and his wife built a getaway cottage near their favorite shoreline, in a fashion that would make the elves of Rivendell proud. After many milestone achievements, and with the mantra ‘life’s too short,’ they left their hectic lives in the business world, moved to their little cottage, and Vaughn finally returned to writing. Now he spends his days striving to finish his epic fantasy series.
Three porches?? You are in tall cotton, dude! But I hear you. I love my screened in porch but it still gets covered in pollen. The cobwebs multiply and the Yew sheds tiny little thingies through holes I still have yet to locate. And then there was the invasion of the giant Cicada Killer bees. Life. Stuff. Other peoples’ needs. I have spent time in the land of overwhelm. Do I have a permanent cure.?No. But I do have medicine. One kind is a short but powerful meditation practice from Heartmath. Another is walking in the woods, preferably by water. The third is to make working in the garden opportunity for silence, out of which often come solutions for bookish problems. I think at some point I decided that it’s all really about the writing, which simply takes different forms. Does it always work? Yes more than no. But it’s a practice.
Hey Susan–I just got back from blowing the pollen off of our front porch, so yeah, it’s sort of endless, isn’t it? And aren’t those Cicada Killers fascinating? They’re like creatures from a SF story!
I realized this morning that I’d neglected to even mention one of my primary healing sources–walking through woods and near water. You’re so right that the practice offers more benefits than keeping overwhelm at bay. I’ve had about 60% of my best ideas while walking in nature (another 30% arrive in the shower, leaving only 10% coming to my desk).
Here’s to mindfully practicing at this thing called life. Glad to have you trekking alongside, my friend.
No matter what, writing always means spending months locked in a room with our dreams. The main reward is, months locked in a room with our dreams.
It’s so true! Thanks, Ken. I needed the reminders that writing and publishing this post is providing, including your wise addition here.
Hi Vaughn. The use of gardens in your post brings Voltaire’s Candide to mind. “Cultivate your garden” is the final message to the reader: stop theorizing or speculating. Apply your energies to something manageable and doable in the real world. I think you’re saying something similar.
Like you, I’m retired (but much older). If right-of-Louis-Quatorze politicians don’t take our economy off the cliff, I’m okay financially, with a little left over to independently publish my work, and promote it with paid advertising. I know I’m supposed to tailor what I write to the demands of the marketplace, but that’s at odds with cultivating my writerly garden. What’s hot and what’s not is in a state of permanent flux. If by now I don’t know what works on the page (with the help of capable freelance editors), I never will. I’m writing what makes sense to me–cultivating etc–without looking over my shoulder at the pronouncements of experts and gatekeepers.
As for social media, in a world where agents and editors often base decisions not on the book but on the writer’s online “footprint,” I’ll pass on that, too. Honest praise and support are both welcome and needed. But working hard to develop a loyal fan base that will feel obligated to buy my work has to do with commerce, not with writing fiction I’m proud of. Thanks again. Are you going to Salem? I hope so.
Hi Barry, If only I could keep my focus on applying my energies to the manageable and doable. Darn brain. I know that staying true to the stories I want to tell will keep me more content than chasing anything else, especially a star rating on a conglomerate’s website. Glad to hear that you’re still doing the same.
Yes, I’ll be in Salem. Looking forward to finally shaking your hand (after all of these years dwelling across the state). Thanks for the wisdom and reassurance.
What a beautiful photograph, Vaughn! I can see why being overwhelmed doesn’t last too long–you have beauty and work that is fulfilling. Keeping house, growing a garden, shaping a story definitely go through their seasons of pure joy and sheer drudgery. I, too, have to remember to flip my attitude to one of gratitude. And let go of the things I cannot do (chronic migraine taught me that). Since our new church has opened, I’ve been walking over to make a holy hour and it’s been soooo healing. See: https://vijayabodach.blogspot.com/2023/04/mass-of-dedication.html
I’m reading James Runcie’s The Great Passion and it has such delightful advice from the Cantor, JS Bach–one that I try to apply when I am filled with doubts: “Let us return to the composing room. I must write and you must copy. We need to labour away until we are in a better mood. That is what I have always found. When in doubt, the only solution is to work harder. When we are angry too, we must work harder. Even when we are content, we must endeavour not to neglect our tasks but take advantage of our good mood and…work harder. Everything else is a distraction.” And this is why Bach is Bach. When his daughter Catharina asks, “Even your family?” he replies, “Sometimes, especially my family.” It made me laugh out loud. I do allow myself to be distracted with other good things.
Hey Vijaya–Your photos are gorgeous, too! I can certainly see how those visits would provide healing.
Ha–why Bach is Bach, indeed. When I was in the lumber biz, I had a yard foreman who was about 20 years my senior. A laconic guy, with an old soul. Whenever I used to get myself in a lather about managerial problems, ranting and raging, often because I didn’t have instant solutions, this wise soul used to say, “You know what we can do right now? We can get to work.” He was always right. There were always things that needed to be done. And doing them always seemed to help. It provided solace, yes–but it also seemed to guide us to solutions.
Thanks for sharing, and for enhancing the conversation, as always!
I agree that a month or two doesn’t matter that much when self publishing, but I needed the reminder today, so thank you. I’ve been struggling with the same issue with my second book, as things aren’t quite falling into place for my original timetable. But it doesn’t matter that much, and you’ve reminded me to step back, take a deep breath, enjoy the good and the beautiful that is in this day, and forge ahead, one task at a time, which is the only way we can work, anyway.
Oh good, Eileen, so glad to hear that I’m not alone on this path. After whining about the weather in the post, the Mighty Mitten has delivered a perfect spring day. Indeed, it’s a great day to step back and take a deep breath. Here’s to forging ahead, one task at a time. Thanks much for letting me know!
Whiney-Ass Roycroft, since I am competitive, I’ll go for it: I just got back from a trip to Portugal that was supposed to be a month-long house-sit, and it turned sour, with 16 feral cats (surprise!) to “work” with, two troubled dogs (one an incessant barker whose resonant tone triggered my tinnitus to madness levels over and over), a harrowing tragedy between one dog and a kitten, and the collapse of the sitting agreement, leaving us to travel dazedly around lovely Portugal, mangling every transit arrangement we had to head-spinning delays, and to return a week early at dizzying expense for new tickets to take the place of the non-refundable ones.
But, finding the good and taking it all in: Portugal is a stately and striking country, with many historic sites and stirring vistas, and the best chocolate cake I’ve ever eaten. Many Portuguese folks helped us navigate the train stations, buses, subways and airports with good cheer and fellowship. We walked 6-7 miles a day though interesting towns and places, getting both good exercise and good culture. And of course I’m going to write about the calamities that occurred, because by golly, we lived and can now laugh.
Obrigado for the post, my friend. (And if after your garden efforts are done you are still looking for jolly fun, we came back to four-foot weeds covering most of the backyard. Bring the thresher.)
Dang, even got out whined, lol. Can’t wait for Trials with Portuguese Cats & Dogs to release, Tom! I could use the laughs I’m positive you’ll provide. And darned if chocolate cake doesn’t sound wonderful about now.
You’ve reminded me of the very first job I ever had at a lumberyard–removing 4+’ brush from behind the lean-to sheds. I couldn’t drive yet, so I thought handling the thresher was pretty cool. Talk about taking a positive attitude about doing a shitty job! I was even more thrilled to move on the forklifts (again, before I was licensed to drive a car). Best part, mostly due to my mostly positive attitude about the place, I ended up owning a lumberyard of my own. Guess I should check my own backlog of positive lessons before I start whining about a little spring gardening and cleanup.
Thanks for sharing. I’m glad you had a partly cool experience, and that you’re home safe and can laugh about it. Here’s to staying positive and keeping the momentum. And to the next (easier and better) house-sitting gig.
I highly recommend reading Tolkien’s short story, “Leaf by Niggle”, which I’ve found very meaningful about the creative process overall, and also an illuminating perspective about the apparent conflict between creativity and the mundane tasks of life.
It also brings to mind something I remember reading in a letter Tolkien wrote to his son Christopher, in the midst of trying to finish The Lord of the Rings. He was expressing his frustration at all the distractions of daily life, and said something like this (not an exact quote) — “I almost have Frodo and Sam to the gates of Mordor, and now I must stop and clean out the hen house”.
Hey Veronica — I haven’t read Leaf by Niggle in decades. Great idea! And wow, I just love the quote–hadn’t heard that one, but it’s a real gem. Well worth remembering. Thanks so much for wisely (and generously) sharing the wisdom of the good professor!
Good one, Vaughn. There’s always something I’m supposed to do, but I can’t do it because, really, I should do this other thing first, and I can’t do that because first I have to do that, and down at the bottom of this idiot list is the one thing that makes me happy: writing. I guess I’ll soothe myself by trying to empty my email inbox.
I feel your pain, Michael! I have so many “this before that” obstacles to maneuver through at the moment. I just heard back in regard to one, right before I started typing. Maybe there’s light at the end of the idiot list… And writing!
Wishing you light and happy writing, my friend.
You are not alone.
Good to know, Ruth! Thanks for chiming in. Onward!
I find it helpful to write down all my whines — seeing them on the page or screen really helps me flip the script on them. Sometimes I’ll keep writing to-do lists — having to write the same damn items over and over will make me sick enough of writing them down that I’ll actually do them. Or I’ll fool myself by telling myself “I’ll just get started on X. I don’t have time to finish.” And then I so often find that I do have time to finish. I love your reminder to read something that’s out of the genre I write in, maybe because one thing that’s unread on my Kindle that fits that bill is your book!
Hey Natalie — I’m a list maker, too. My spring chore list was one of the things that prompted this post (cocky thing staring me down, day after day). You’re right, you get so sick of them, it’s better to just get on it. I knocked a few off there today. This weather is a big help, isn’t it?
Well, that’s a pleasant byproduct of the “outside the genre” advice, lol. At least I hope it is. I mean, hope if you dive in, that you enjoy the dip in the fantasy pond. Thanks! Here’s to checking off the chores and keeping the momentum.
Yes and amen.
Hang in there, Erin! At least the weather had turned around, right? Hope your gardens are “evolving,” as mine are.
V, there’s a writer in my local romance group I hold as my quiet hero because of her self-knowledge. Instead of my journey, which requires a ton of self-doubt and thrashing among many fits and starts, she’s a model of steady production. She writes the stories she wants to tell, hires the same cover artist time and again, and publishes only on Amazon, in both paper and print. She prices her books high and makes them available in KU, where she has a growing cult following. We have different personalities, so I know her journey couldn’t be mine, but on days where I’m fed up with my progress, I remind myself what a steadfast approach will accomplish.
Here’s wishing you are on the other side of the spring doldrums, my friend.
Hey Jan — I’ve been finding that there are as many paths to success in self-pub as there are authors willing to forge them. I just have to keep reminding myself that I’m forging mine–no one else’s. It might look a little different, but success is relative, and mainly something of our own defining.
Thanks for the providing the example here, and for always being an inspiration. Yep, doldrums are fading. Gardens are coming along, and cover art is on the way. Hope all is well with you and the ToolMaster, my friend.
What a healthy, positive, nourishing outlook, Vaughn–and in my opinion the recipe for a fulfilling and sustainable long-term writing career. Plus damn good life advice too. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you, Tiffany! Praise from you is definitely good fuel for forward momentum, too. Hope you’re having a nice spring!