In the last couple of months, I released one book and wrote another in six weeks, start to finish. (No, I don’t usually write that fast; yes, I really, really wish I had the magic recipe to make novels come that quickly and easily all the time– if I ever figure that recipe out, I’ll post it here!) I have more to do– there’s always more to do. Edits on another mostly-completed book, a sequel to the just-finished novel . . . But this week, I’m not working on any of it. This is the part of the process where I know I need to take some time to regroup and recharge, because I’m just . . . empty. If you imagine a story-well inside where the creativity bubbles up, then mine is at the moment dry.
And not that that’s a bad thing. There was a time– a LONG period of time–when being creatively empty would have felt like a bad thing to be– scary and unpleasant and wrong. Earlier in my writing career, I would have fretted and fumed at not being able to write, or worried that that inner story-well would never be refilled. To be honest, I still feel a bit restless when I have to take a break from writing– I love getting my daily word count; I’m happiest when I’m on fire with a story that is begging to be told. But this time around, it occurred to me that I was feeling much more at peace than usual with the idea of needing to take time to recharge. Somewhere along the way, I’ve learned to trust the process, to trust that the well of creativity will once again be filled- because it always is. To trust that my fingers will soon start to itch with the urge to write another story–because they always do. This time around, I’m letting myself relax into all the ways I’ve found over the years to help with a creative recharge.
Here are my chosen strategies: [Read more…]