Last year I posted here with confessions from a weary writer. I talked directly to the camera, like I was on a reality show. My writing was at a low point, and I was in a flat panic. I was afraid I’d never get back to the writing zone. I no longer felt a passion for writing like I once did, but I wanted to write.
To be honest, when I reread my post, I cringed a bit. My first thought: Was that me? I took that as a good sign.
Today, I’m revisiting that post with updates. Where am I today? What takeaways can I offer?
What’s changed
I’m happy to report I’m writing again—and enjoying it! I finished a short story, started another, and I’m beginning to write a new novel. In addition, I’ve hired an editor to work with me on revisions to a novel I wrote five years ago. I also no longer feel like a fraud, like I did in my original post.
More importantly, I wake up early—sometimes in the middle of the night—thinking with anticipation about what I’m writing. Again, as I’ve been my whole life, when something happens, my first question to myself is how will I write this?
But, true confession time. I do have lingering fear this is only a reprieve. That it’s short lived. That I could relapse and not be able to again write freely, so I don’t take writing for granted like I once did. But this fear is both a blessing and a curse. I’m acutely aware of those dark writing lows, but I also have more ideas of how to address them. And I trust my fear will recede as my confidence regrows.
What hasn’t changed
I’m still afraid I’ll never be traditionally published. This remains a deep and abiding fear. I’ve had a rough path in this regard (as many of us have), but (not to be morbid here) I feel afraid my time is running out. That’s my real fear. I talked to my physician-writer son about this once, and he gave me sage advice: Are you dying tomorrow? What else are you going to do?
This sounds brutal, but it’s really not. What he meant was: keep pursuing your dreams until you can’t or don’t want to anymore. How can I know if I will ever be traditionally published? All I can do is keep trying. If I don’t write, don’t submit, don’t try, I knowI won’t be published.
What’s made a difference—the takeaways
From my initial post, I learned in comments and from personal messages that many of you feel similarly to how I feel. What specifically did I do? What advice can I give? What can any of us do in this situation when we feel we can’t write or aren’t writing with the same zest we once did?
1. Don’t avoid thinking about it. I can’t say for sure it helped me get back to writing faster or helped the time go faster, but I can say that for me it didn’t slow the recovery process to examine my fears and confront them. It certainly felt better to actively pursue my problem. I’ve spent a lot of my life as an avoider. I’m a weird mix. I talk about my feelings a lot, but when things get painful, I avoid doing things about my pain. Instead, I want to push it aside and pretend it’s not there. It scares me too much. These days, I try to look fear (and feelings) in the eye, and though I don’t necessarily embrace my fears, I examine them and look for ways to make things better.
2. Seek help. From friends, from family, and if necessary from professionals. Talk about it. To everyone. This sounds trite and obvious. But it’s also true and necessary. I was lucky that after I wrote my original post, several writers reached out to me, and I emailed them, talked to them, commiserated with them. People gave me good advice, but mostly people just listened. I started working with a very supportive (but tough) editor, and I went to a therapist who has been very helpful especially in helping me realize that I should allow myself to feel the pain and grieve the losses.
A caveat: I actively avoid negative people. I avoid doomsayers and mean-spirited or indifferent people. This is general advice, not just for writing. This doesn’t mean I only talk to people who agree with me, but I won’t spend time with people who make me feel bad in some regard.
3. Think. Deeply. About everything. Whether it’s about why you’re going through what you’re going through or about why the world is going through what it’s going through or about how the squirrel outside your window evolved so it can jump as far as it can jump. Deep thinking is not another description for rumination or spiraling—it’s thinking about the core of life, the meaning of existence, in both practical and theoretical terms.
4. Embrace joy. One of the suggestions my therapist made was to embrace joy—in whatever form it takes—do the things that make me feel better. This seems intuitively obvious, but it’s not really. Sometimes when we feel bad about one part of our life (like writing), we inadvertently inflict pain on ourselves in other ways, too, or obstruct ourselves from just finding joy. And conversely, by increasing your joy in one area of your life, other areas of your life (like writing) may benefit. If you aren’t sure what brings you joy (like I wasn’t), again do some deep thinking. Joy can be as big as getting on a plane and visiting a friend you haven’t seen in a long time or as small as indulging in a new TV show.
5. Love yourself. However and whatever you are right now. You’re amazing. I got teary-eyed when I wrote those words because I don’t say it often enough to myself, but I’m saying it to you. You’re worth it. The writing. The love. The joy. All of it. And you will be repaid (not that it’s a reason for doing it, but you will be). Also, don’t be too hard on yourself. It doesn’t help to beat ourselves up for not being able to write easily. It is what it is, as the saying goes. And there’s some peace in that.
6. Write. Write. Write. I wrote even when I didn’t feel like it. I wrote morning pages. I started to blog on my personal blog more often, already as many times this year as the entire year last year. I wrote letters and notes and emails and—yes—everything counts. Just write. We are writers, it’s what we do.
7. Always, always remember there’s someone else out there who understands how you feel—like me. If I can overcome my weariness and confront my writing fears, so can you. I’m rooting for you. And I’m here for you.
Shut off the camera. Cut to real life.
Now tell me. What’s your deepest darkest fear? And what are you going to do about it? The camera’s rolling.
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About Julia Munroe Martin
Julia Munroe Martin (@jmunroemartin) is a writer and blogger who lives in an old house in southern coastal Maine. Julia's other passion is photography, and if she's not writing at the dining room table or a local coffeeshop, you'll likely find her on the beach or dock taking photos. Julia writes The Empty Nest Can Be Murder mystery series as J. M. Maison.
Hey Julia – Thanks for continuing to be so open and honest about these struggles and fears. Yours are very similar to mine, and I’m sure to those of many other writers. I am right there with you on hearing the mortality clock ticking, but your son’s point is perfect. And I also love your final point, so clearly exemplified by your essay here today. Thanks for always making me feel less alone.
Hi Julia. I have no idea if publishing is in my hazy future or not. I’m a niche fantasy writer who should self pub, but managing that at the moment is proving elusive. Instead, I keep writing and improving my craft. I plan to be ready if my opportunity comes along. I’m prolific and view each novel and short story like a savings account. One of these days, just maybe, I’ll be able to afford to make a huge withdrawal from that account and find myself the right editor.
I’m so glad things looked up for you. I had a similar experience of getting back into the saddle. Doesn’t mean I won’t fall off again. As for traditional publishing, I’m convinced that who gets published or not has nothing to do with talent or the quality of the given piece. So keep writing and if you have to self-publish, there’s no shame there.
Hi Julia,
Great to hear your update. I too appreciate your honesty. I find that not pushing so hard all the time and avoiding relentless self-criticism makes a big difference. Maybe it’s all about how we assign value to our own lives–the recognition that we don’t have to buy into the world’s value system that seems to dictate whose work matters, whose work has a reason to exist in the first place.
Also, as you point out, finding other joyful activities ends up enriching the writing as well. I wish you many happy days of creating fictional worlds!
I am one of those people who responded to your post about the weary writer. Glad to see things have changed for you. Things have changed for me as well. I have been writing consistently since the first of the year. For me, it took a time of self examination and a conscious decision that I would write anyway. Not for publication but just because. I’m older and it’s what I want to do. I enjoy it as a pastime the way some people enjoy watching a movie or running. It brings me happiness the way my garden brings me happiness. So for me it was getting to the point that I could allow myself to no longer be a critic but to do the writing solely for my enjoyment. It was freeing.
As for fears, yes, the hourglass of time is running out. That troubles me on many fronts. Still, I have achieved what others may never do. I’ve completed a novel. More than one actually-and I am halfway through another. I choose not to look any further than that right now.
I want to thank you for this post and encourage you to
keep traveling the writing path.
This makes me so very happy. The advice to seek joy really speaks to me.
{Hugs}
Deepest darkest fear? Good question.
This is what comes to mind: That I’ll run out of time. See, I live what you advise and what that’s given me is a super-abundance of stories to tell, things to say, new narrative techniques to explore.
I’m having a blast. What I haven’t reconciled to is that there are a finite number of days available to me. I don’t resent the demands of family, day job, or walking the dog. I love all those too. I like my balance.
What I don’t like is the clock ticking in the heavens. Maybe that is not a writing issue but a grappling with mortality, which I suppose makes me no different than Dante. Is that, in turn, the answer?
What I mean is, since I cannot slow time or postpone the inevitable beyond a certain point, perhaps my deepest darkest fear should be my topic? Reconciling to the limitations of time might be my aim?
We write for the same reason that we have children, I suppose: not to create something that will survive immutably like a Great Wall, but something that the ones who follow us will continue to build.
Maybe I’m only starting stories that others will finish, springing from mine, influenced by or arguing against. Maybe I’m looking at it the wrong way. Maybe the object isn’t to finish but to start.
There’s time enough for that. Thinking deeply. Thank you.
Dear Julia, so glad to see you here, as your words echo much of what I feel. But when you mention all the positives and that you are once again drawn to the keyboard, YAY!
There is still joy when I work, there are still ideas I want to develop. But there is also the moment when someone refers to my writing as a “good hobby.” I’ve decided that whatever someone wants to call it is their business. I know it’s deeper than that–and so I pursue, and with your words today I can picture so many Unboxers working, creating, finding amazing words, the perfect ending. It’s thrilling when you think of it that way. Go Julia, Go writers!
Julia, I’m so glad you are writing again and enjoying it. I don’t think the doubts ever go away. My deepest fear right now is that I won’t have the time to write all the stories that want to be told. Crafting a good story takes time. I take consolation in the fact that in heaven I’ll be perfect, writing the perfect stories, singing perfectly, playing perfectly as well :) Be well Julia, and let not the perfect be the enemy of the good.
I share your fear, Julia–that I won’t be traditionally published. Years ago I was published by a small press. And I’m grateful for that experience. I learned a lot. But I fear it won’t happen again. And I use that fear to propel me forward. When I feel the fear I act-write, submit, revise. This is my author journey. I decided when I’ll sit on the side of the road and wait. I decided when I’ll keep walking. So much of publishing seems out of my control, but I am in control of when and for how long I will walk. Let’s keep walking…
Julia, I am very grateful for your post. So, the first thing I will do is flag it in my email because it bears reading several times. Cynicism (which is probably at the root for most of us) is only cured by love, paraphrasing Martin Luther King and a few others. We’ve got the love of craft in spades or we wouldn’t be writers. Perhaps that means we must look for what gives us joy–how a sentence flows so smoothly, the craft of well-placed punctuation, how good it feels to be in the crazy flow when words spill onto the page. The next thing I will do is make a more thorough list of what excites me about writing and tuck it into my purse. The clock is ticking. Time, for me and for some of us shortens, but it is not gone. What else would I do? Yes, what else. I could change to anything; however, I chose not to do it. Write on!
Such a great post Julia. I’m glad your writing is soaring again and I can relate to the thrill of having that flow of ideas. I love the advice your son gave you and also your suggestions for how to work through the dreary writing days.
Wow! Thanks for the update–how gorgeous that you’re writing again and enjoying it! Yes, thinking deeply–you’re so right.
Like you and others here, my fear is about running out of time. So many stories I want to tell.
Your good news has brightened my day!
Wonderful post! Joy is what we should be after, whether it is writing or anything else. A well-lived life requires a balance of many things. If we live well and enjoy our days, we have something to write about. I think writing is a grand adventure. Like all adventures, there are high points and low points. The important part is to keep going on adventures. Without that, life would be very dull and so would writing.