Two months out from the deadline for a novel with more than usual riding on its success, I don’t feel super confident about crafting a post full of wise advice for writing more effectively, or engaging more meaningfully with readers, or bravely addressing big social issues, or achieving a better work/life balance. The last few weeks before the deadline tend to be a time of weariness and anxiety, characterised by too much black coffee, over-consumption of sugary foods, snappish words addressed to the other members of the household (the dogs, in my case), and restless nights visited by repetitive dreams of failure. You know those dreams – they feature scathing reviews, book launches attended only by the author’s family, interviews in which the author is made to look a complete fool, and being constantly late for things. Then there’s another kind of dream, in which your editor sends you a so-called ‘structural report’ which may just as well read: This novel stinks and needs a complete rewrite. You have one month to do it.
Oddly enough, these symptoms visit you even when you’re fairly happy with your manuscript. I know I still have a lot of revision to do, but I’ve budgeted the time so I’ll submit the thing by the required date, barring catastrophes. I’ve been through this twenty-odd times before. I should know what I’m doing. But I’m coming back to it after a couple of years off, and that seems to make a difference. Those unproductive years were a time of personal distress (the death of a beloved dog under violent circumstances) and career setbacks (a mismatch between what I truly wanted to write and what was deemed commercially viable.) So I was derailed from my usual pattern of producing one substantial novel per year – my readers have had two years with no new book. Unsatisfactory. Demoralising. What could be done about it? Was it the end of my writing career?
Sometimes you just have to wait until the time is right. I did emerge from that fallow period. After a couple of fails, I crafted a proposal for a series I felt excited about writing; one that my agent thought he could sell. The novel I’ll be submitting soon is the first in that new series. So it’s overall good news. But it would be easier if the good news, on its gleaming silver platter, didn’t come with the wobbly side dish of anxiety and self-doubt.
I have a very strong feeling I’m not alone in this experience. While every writer is different, there are certain times in the development of a novel when we’re all sure our work is rubbish, and never mind how many great reviews or stellar sales figures we may have had for earlier books. Often it’s about a third to half of the way in – the soggy bit in the middle of the cake. But I think others, like me, experience major doubt towards the end of the project, even at the very point where the story has maximum momentum. This part is great. But what about that part? Maybe I should have written the whole thing in first person. Or in present tense. Maybe I didn’t research shipping lanes, or embroidery methods, or the genealogy of the kings of Meath quite as thoroughly as the story requires … Character A springs to life in every scene, but is Character B rather a cardboard cutout?
This is the time to be brave. To accept that our chosen profession has its ups and downs like any other, and that no matter how well we do artistically or commercially, we’ll never be completely satisfied. And that is probably as it should be, because as creative artists we can always learn. We can and should always strive to get better. It’s the time to start believing in ourselves, and in our capacity to grow.
So, remember the following, and if you can, put some of it into practice during those angsty times:
- Be kind to yourself. Forgive yourself. Remember that you’ve done good work in the past and know that you can do so again.
- Look after your body and spirit. Reduce caffeine and junk food intake, but allow yourself treats. Rest. Sleep. Meditate. Stretch. Breathe.
- Spend time outdoors. Do some exercise that you enjoy.
- Be kind to your dog, cat, partner, children. Your deadline is not their fault. Walk the dog, stroke the cat, hug your partner and play with your children. Schedule writing time to allow for this!
- If you live alone, stop throwing things at the walls. Go out and meet a friend, talk to a live person, calm the whirling thoughts.
- Make a timetable to ensure you get all your writing tasks done by the submission date. Sounds simplistic? Maybe so, but ticking items off helps alleviate your anxiety.
And look, here I am at the end. I can tick off ‘Write May post for WU.’ I feel better already.
Do you suffer from deadline stress? How does it manifest itself, and what strategies do you employ to get through it?
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About Juliet Marillier
Juliet Marillier has written twenty novels for adults and young adults as well as a collection of short fiction. Her works of historical fantasy have been published around the world, and have won numerous awards. Juliet's most recent series was Blackthorn & Grim, which one reviewer referred to as 'Holmes and Watson in medieval Ireland'. The three Blackthorn & Grim books were published by Penguin Random House US and Pan Macmillan Australia. They are also available in audiobook from audible.com. Juliet is currently working on a new fantasy trilogy for adult readers, Warrior Bards. When not writing, Juliet is kept busy by her small tribe of elderly rescue dogs.
Juliet, I’m so sorry about the loss of your dog. And thank you for being so honest here. It’s easy for me, after reading and loving a half-dozen or more of your books, to imagine you never having these feelings. But it’s also comforting. I have ‘finishing-a-revision-and getting-ready-to pitch’ anxiety and swing from ‘this work is good’ to ‘who do I think I’m kidding?’ But because of writers like you and others here at WU, I know that this comes with the job. And I agree, it’s good that we are never satisfied. If we were, we’d stop growing. There’s the paradox. But I’m learning that somewhere between opposites lies the truth. My self-care involves sleep, yoga, good food and dancing alone in my office. But by far the best medicine for me is being outside, preferably in the woods, getting reminded about what’s real. All the best with your work, and I look forward to the new series.
Susan, I love the idea of dancing alone in the office! In my case that it would be ‘dancing with dogs’ as they are always close by when I’m working. Getting close to nature is important for me, too – helps calm the mind and body, and heal some of the emotional wounds. Thanks for your kindness concerning my little dog. He’s been gone a while now, but is still walking alongside me in spirit.
“Ticking items off helps” applies to non-writing tasks too. Finishing a task you’ve been putting off makes you feel good. It can be a task as simple as, say, cleaning that dirty window you’ve been staring through as your brain spun like a top trying to decide what to do next on your WIP.
I’d agree there. When you’re having a bad day or need a break, grunt chores and routine tasks might be the perfect thing– your mood can’t get worse, and making concrete progress on one thing might be the surest way to make it better. As long as you watch your schedule so you do get back to writing; some of us need to ration the housework.
Oh, the dirty window – the one with doggy nose prints up to a certain level … that could be part of a daily cleaning routine! This is really apt. If I can’t do THAT task (writing the next few pages of the book) I can at least do something else (tidy up one shelf of the pantry cupboard, bath the dog, hang up the washing.) But yes to Ken’s comment about watching the schedule, because those other tasks can be displacement activities in disguise.
That side dish of angst is exactly why these days I’m writing books without contracts, meaning without deadlines. With lower stakes, anxiety is less and enjoyment is more. The writing is better, too.
It also helps that after twenty books (under other names) I have nothing to prove. I’m also don’t need the income, though it’s nice.
Since I’m heading off in new directions in my writing, fan pressure isn’t a concern either. I’ll remake my fan base, though in a way that is always true, with every new book, even in series.
More to the point, readers will wait. The impression made by strong stories is lasting. It is only dashed off, throw-away fiction that has the half life of popcorn. Readers have other books to keep them busy.
Come to think of it, so do I. For instance, I hear there’s this new series by Juliet Marillier coming. When will it be finished? Is there a cover reveal? Come on, come on! I mean…sorry, no pressure.
Wise comment, Benjamin, and very well expressed. I’ve been on the brink of making the same decision (writing without contracts) but I’m a very cautious person, so the time has not quite come yet for me. I wish you all the very best with the change of creative direction!
Hi Juliet,
“But I think others, like me, experience major doubt towards the end of the project, even at the very point where the story has maximum momentum.”
I am raising my hand like Arnold Horshack over here (did you have Welcome Back Kotter in Futurelandia?). During a couple of spells toward the end of this last draft, the doubt was like a wrecking ball. I had no choice but to set it aside, a few times for several weeks. Which makes me all the more grateful that I’m not yet under a deadline. I blew by my self-imposed one last Christmas.
Here’s to getting outdoors more. So glad you were able to tick off sharing this essay from your list. It’s a win for us WU readers. Congrats on the new project, and moving on from the fallow period.
Thanks Vaughn, and all the best for getting the next draft done, if that is necessary. Also, here’s to fresh air, exercise and the company of dogs!
Juliet,
“But it would be easier if the good news, on its gleaming silver platter, didn’t come with the wobbly side dish of anxiety and self-doubt.”
This line made me smile … and attests to the fact that you have your writing chops in order, even today.
Hi, Juliet:
“You know those dreams – they feature scathing reviews, book launches attended only by the author’s family, interviews in which the author is made to look a complete fool, and being constantly late for things. Then there’s another kind of dream, in which your editor sends you a so-called ‘structural report’ which may just as well read: This novel stinks and needs a complete rewrite. You have one month to do it.”
Those were dreams? Boy, they sure felt real. :-)
Thanks for the sound advice. Now, watch as I return to my WIP and ignore it.
Sorry. I think this must be Ironic Wednesday.
Seriously, thanks for the disarmingly candid update. Wishing you all the best in bringing this baby home.
You should feel entirely free to ignore any advice I seem to be giving! We all do these things in our own way, in our own time.
My quip about ignoring your advice was meant to suggest I’m too stubborn and dumb not to recognize sagacity when I read it. I’m sorry if it sounded like I intended to disregard you. Quite the contrary. I thought the post was spot on. Thanks for being so open and generous.
Wonderful post, Juliet, and coming at a good time for me. I battle with self doubt constantly, and the minute I send a book in, it gets worse in my mind — the bits I was happy with disappear, the bits I was less confident about loom large in the wee small hours, muttering.
I’m delighted that you’re starting a new series. As one who’s read and loved your books it’s wonderful news.
Thank you, Anne. None of that shows in your work, and I bet your multitude of readers would be amazed to hear that you ever doubt the quality of your writing!
I’m happy about the new series too, and (mostly) enjoying the writing process.
First, so sorry for the loss of your dog. I recently lost my canine companion and know the pain. Those kinds of losses can really upset the whole equilibrium of our routines, and it is hard to come back with great confidence. I am in a similar boat and my confidence is lagging.
I liked your suggestions for taking care of ourselves, and I do try to go outside as much as possible. Doing a little gardening in the cool mornings is very healthy for me.
Thank you, Maryann. You’re so right about a sad loss or a major shock (this was both) setting us off kilter for quite some time. My advice, looking back on that period, would be to give yourself as much time as it takes to recover, probably a lot longer than you expect.
I did some gardening today – hacking back a wisteria which I love, but which is attempting a takeover of the whole front garden. Nothing like being up a ladder wielding a pruning tool to take one’s mind off writing … I seem to recall writing a post way back that compared this kind of gardening with editing a manuscript!
Wow I can’t believe I stumbled on this today and I have no idea how!
I am there right now and really needed this :(
I will face tomorrow with more joy!
Soni
Great! (Not that you’re dealing with the same issue, but that you will face tomorrow with a smile on your face.) All the best with your project!
Dearest Juliet-my sympathies regarding the passing of your dog. I’ve had several talks with my dog about death. We’ve come to an agreement that whoever “goes” first will then make it a point to greet the later arrival at the pearly gates!
On another note, I’d like to thank you for your transparent post. Hearing something like this from someone as accomplished as you gives me hope. I often wallow in self doubt regarding my own writing. Funny, I never experienced this throughout a career I loved as a school principal. Yet, now that I’m pursuing something I’m desperately passionate about, I procrastinate, pout, and piddle away my writing time with self-sabotage.
I’m glad to see I’m amongst friends as I read the comments to this particular blog. Now, for the hard part- to get out of my way!
Thank you, Katherine. I have Harry’s photo prominently displayed in the living room, and I do feel his wise presence in the house (he looks a little disapproving when the other dogs misbehave.) Wherever we go after death, I feel sure he will be waiting for me there.
It interests me that you’ve mentioned my post being transparent and David called it disarmingly candid. An excellent topic for a future WU post, perhaps by someone other than myself, would be the divide between the authorial persona – the one we project to the public, our readers, the media, our editors, agents and publishers – and the real person underneath, often a lot less confident and positive. I’ve become increasingly uncomfortable with the need to present the face of self-belief and positivity in every interaction with the public. It feels like less than the truth sometimes.
I think the answer is to build the talk or blog or whatever around something we feel genuinely excited about. I did a presentation at a library last night, focused on traditional storytelling and its influence on my work, and read aloud a passage I knew was good from my work in progress (it included snatches of song.) Very positive response from the audience, a mixed group of library patrons not all of whom were already readers of my work, and lots of book sales.
I wish you all the best with getting out of your own way and forging ahead with your project!
I actually like deadlines. They help corral my chaos. They propel me into action. I have angst and worries and all but knowing there’s an “end date” when I have to have something done makes me feel calmer. It’s when I DON’T have a deadline that I’m all a-flutter and out of sorts! :D
Kathryn, I have often wondered how well I’d work without contracts and deadlines. I have a vision of myself alternating between lying on the couch reading, and tending to my five needy little dogs. Those activities could easily take up the whole day if I allowed them to!