Lately I’ve been struggling with how much time I think a writer should spend actually writing and how much time I think it’s okay—necessary, even—to spend on other, writing related endeavors (like reading). Part of the reason I’ve been having such a hard time pinning down how I feel about the issue is because basically for the past year (almost), I’ve been having a very on-again/off-again relationship with my own writing. I’ve had a very eventful year; between the book and the baby news, I’ve been quite busy and distracted, and I’ve had a lot of trouble getting into any sort of comfortable writing groove.
I’ve read that what I’ve been experiencing is not uncommon: you get word of your first book deal (or sometimes, you finish—really finish—a large project), and you find you have no choice but to take a break; for whatever reason, your mind simply will not let you embark on another project without a breather. That all seems fine, except for the fact that I got word that my first book was going to be published almost a year ago. Even if you consider that most of last summer I was revising and editing the manuscript, it’s still been a good nine months since I’ve had all that behind me, and nine months seems like an awfully long break, to me.
Maybe, then, it’s the baby, more than the book, that’s been keeping my mind so occupied. Thinking about and planning for my new baby has certainly taken up a lot of my time, but let’s be honest, I have a lot of time right now. I’m only teaching one class. I could spend hours a day thinking about the little being growing inside of me and still find an hour or two in which to write.
No. The truth is, all excuses aside, I just haven’t been as interested in writing this past year. Something strange clicked over in me when I signed that book contract, and I know part of it is the disappointment of realizing how little a book deal really matters, and part of it is disillusionment at the anti-climax of publishing a book, but there’s something more, too, and I can’t quite put my finger on it.
Part of it, I think, is that I just haven’t had as much to say. I’ve been, if you want to know the truth, much more interested in reading these past few months. I’ve always been a reader, certainly, but for the past few months I feel like I’d rather read than do just about anything, but I can never quite decide if it’s okay for me to indulge. Obviously, writers need to read, but they should also write. Lately, I’m always very quick to pick up a book, less so to turn on my computer and put words to paper myself. The result is that when I’m reading, I feel guilty about it—I should be writing.
So I’m torn, you see, because I don’t know where the balance lies. I think reading is essential to writing, and part of me thinks, maybe it’s not so bad if, for a few months, I just really want to read. But then part of me thinks that’s just self-justification. Yes, reading is important, but it’s not like I was ever at risk for not reading enough. The risk is not writing enough. The risk is not producing.
But I don’t really know what the right answer is. Should I be putting more pressure on myself right now, or less? Should I accept that I need a break—though it scares me, though I’m terrified I’ve lost my abilities and may never get them back—or should I be forcing myself to rebuild my momentum? I don’t know. I just really don’t know.
I had a writing block after moving away from Alaska. It was a really, really bad time. I started to feel physically violent towards the stories I had written at UAF. I felt like I wanted to hurtle them across the room rather than work on them.
ReplyDeleteSo I took a break.
There's this really awesome bit from Kate Wilhelm's book Storyteller, where she offers advice to writers who have writer's block:
"It frequently happens that a writer is stopped temporarily because he or she has reached a plateau and is getting ready for a new phase, a new kind of writing, or tackling a different kind of material. You may find that on the other side of a slump you are writing very different stories, very likely more complex and deeper than before."
I found this quote after my writer's block had passed, once I'd found a job and Mike and I had our own place to live again, and it gave me hope as I started writing new stories. When I submitted two of those stories to Clarion West and was accepted, I knew that Kate Wilhelm was right.
I think your brain knows what it needs. I think it has gone into stockpiling new ideas for when the next phase hits.
I've read so many interviews with authors who say that they started writing when they became parents. That writing was their way to take some adult time and talk with other adults. (Even though those other adults were fictional). I think parenting is going to give you all kinds of new insights on the world and on why people do the things that people do; insights you'll want to explore through writing.
But until that next phase hits, I would suggest writing other things so that you can keep your writing brain active. Maybe try non-fiction or poetry or sequential art.
My mother kept a diary when she was pregnant with me. I read part of it once, when I was little, and then it disappeared off of the communal bookshelf. Why not write to your daughter? Let her know who you and Damien are right now, before she gets here. Or maybe write a picture book for her, telling her about your travel down from Alaska?
Your abilities are still there. Your tools aren't going to get rusty, or lost. You've collected them and sharpened them and they're wrinkled into your brain for good. You'll always be a writer. A damned awesome writer. You can only go up. :)
I like that last comment a lot. It covers some of what I was going to say.
ReplyDeleteWhat particularly stands out to me in this post is your comment that you haven't had as much to say recently and don't feel as compelled to write. That's something I've been tossing around in my brain the past couple years. I argue with myself about whether it's sort of arrogant to want to write, to think that I have something worth saying, something new or different. Or sometimes I just think that maybe I simply don't know enough yet, that I'm still so young that it might be that I don't have life figured out enough to actually say anything compelling with my writing at this stage of life. But I don't think that's exactly the case. I think a lot of people have interesting things to say about the world.
But I also think it's very possible that you have one thing to say at one point in your life and something else to say at another point. And I kind of wonder if maybe you've already written enough to satisfy your desire to say certain things about early life up through your twenties, but you don't yet know what you want to say about life moving on into your thirties. That's how I often feel about my own writing, anyway. I kind of suspect that when I head into my forties I'll have much more interesting ideas about the world (not that I'll have things figured out or anything like that, but I'll just have so many more experiences to draw from).
I suspect that in the coming months and years, your writing will take a new turn and you'll have all sorts of new story ideas about things that don't even occur to you to write about now. I don't think this dry spell is anything to worry about but rather just a natural phase in your writing life.
And as Jennifer suggests, you can do all sorts of other writing in the mean time just to keep your writing muscles in shape. Keep blogging. Write about what you're reading. keep a diary. Whatever. Or even if you take some serious time off from writing, I don't think you need to worry about losing your abilities or anything. If you don't write much for a year and then come back to it, you might feel a little rusty at first, but then I bet it comes back quickly.
You might want to keep a daily journal just to remember what you are going through. It's so easy to forget little things that you want to remember about a child's life stages. Just write for yourself and read all you want. Relax.
ReplyDeleteThose are all really good points! I think that's exactly what's happening. I've said all I want to say about being a kid and being a jaded twenty-something. I suppose turning thirty, having a baby on the way, and having already published stories that say all the things I wanted to say before, are all adding together to make me feel like I have nothing left to say, when really, maybe I just haven't figured out, yet, how the new, older me sees the world.
ReplyDeleteAND I love the idea of keeping a journal during the pregnancy and then journaling about the early stages of the baby's life. That's probably so true that it's easy to forget things that seem so important, and it would be nice for our daughter to be able to read that down the road. It's the perfect way to try to keep in practice!
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