There seems to be two prevailing attitudes when it comes to the pandemic.
First, there is the productivity school of thought.
This generally means plans to finally finish that novel (hell, maybe write several novels) while simultaneously organizing your cellar, planting a garden, homeschooling your children, and participating enthusiastically during Zoom meetings with amusing background filters.
Next, there is the chaos approach.
This usually involves a lot of home-baked carbohydrates, a distinct lack of pants, and (if you’re Ina Garten) a martini glass full of Cosmopolitans the size of your head that you’re hitting like a sledgehammer well before noon.
Please keep in mind: I am not judging either stance.
The funny thing is, I have seen both of these mindsets (albeit in far less extreme forms) for years. Some writers wildly overestimate their capacity, for writing and for other things, and then beat themselves up when they fall short of the mark. Others may drag their feet, despondent over the state of their writing (or lack thereof) to the point of indulgent hopelessness.
What I’d like to do is offer a few tips for both sides of the spectrum, in the hopes of alleviating some related stressors and soothing the rough patches that you might be experiencing in “these uncertain times.”
You are probably going to accomplish less than you think.
How many of you have seen the tweet going around that says: “Just a reminder that when Shakespeare was quarantined for the plague, he wrote King Lear?”
To quote my 13-year-old son: “Five bucks and a box of Froot Loops says you’re not going to write King Lear.”
In fact, it’s not only unrealistic, it’s detrimental to hold yourself to those kind of standards. You don’t need to be Shakespeare. You just need to be the best writer you can be (and “can be” encompasses the current circumstances), and trust me, that will be more than good enough.
You also don’t need to complete a masterwork while under lockdown. That kind of pressure can be distressing when we aren’t facing a global pandemic. Do you really need to add those expectations on top of things?
You especially don’t need to think in terms of completing a novel if you have other concerns. For example, you’re homeschooling kids now unexpectedly, you’re trying to negotiate a work-from-home job due to quarantine, and people you love are high risk or immunocompromised. These are valid concerns and should not be dismissed in the name of Hustle Culture. Just because you can, theoretically, be productive, doesn’t mean you have to “do all the things!”
Some might argue that keeping busy helps keep their mind off the more dismal realities, and I am all for that… if you’re cognizant and careful. What can appear to be optimism and an almost aggressive positivity can turn into mania if you don’t shore up your foundation and take care of yourself. The consequence of mania is usually a subsequent messy crash. And you certainly don’t need to berate yourself if you slip and fall on the perilous path to productivity.
But you can probably do a bit more than you think.
It is also easy to freeze in the face of overwhelming anxiety. If you can’t manage to get out of pajamas (again, no judgment) the idea of writing a chapter might seem insurmountable. Easier to dive head-first into that tube of cookie dough and binge watch Tiger King.
The thing is, it may seem to be helping you, but if you’re still feeling anxious (and then a bit nauseous, by both the dough and the show) at the end of the day… it’s not actually self-care. It may be escapism, and it may feel like the best you can do at the time. But ultimately, it’s not doing you any favors.
Writing may feel like the last thing you want to do, and that’s understandable. You might want to start with other self-care elements first.
I can’t emphasize this enough: start small. Like “I am going to drink a glass of water right now” small. Or “I am going to take a ten-minute walk, while practicing social distancing” small. Or even “I am going to put on a clean pair of pajama pants.”
When you do get to writing, don’t think in terms of your usual word count, either. Cut it in half (or quarters) if you’ve found yourself unable to write. Be gentle. You can work your way up from there.
The key is to do things that makes you mildly uncomfortable. It’s like rehabbing an injury. You don’t want to go from major sprain to running a marathon, but you don’t want to just sit on the couch, either. Push just to the point of discomfort, then give it a rest. Then go again.
Don’t compare, don’t despair.
In an Instagram age, it’s easy to see “what everybody else is doing” and feel like a failure. Looking at people crafting, or doing elaborate puzzles and games with their kids, or plunging through their latest work in progress, can be demoralizing if all you’ve managed is to get through Season 1 of The Wire on Amazon Prime while devouring Cheetos. But even when we aren’t in a medical crisis, remember: don’t compare someone else’s carefully curated highlight reel with your own blooper reel. Everybody has Cheeto days.
On the other hand, take advantage of technology. Now is not the time to cut yourself off from people (well, yes, physically, but not socially.) It’s also easy to fall into the echo chamber of negativity and fear. Getting support from others, and providing support for others, can be a huge help. Get yourself connected. (For example: Writer Unboxed has a Facebook page. Reach out if you’re feeling swamped!)
Hang in there.
No matter where you land on the productivity/chaos spectrum, this will not last forever. And we’ll always be there for each other. Have faith, or connect with someone who can believe enough for the two of you for a little while, and we’ll come out on the other side.
How are you holding up? What would you say to a member of our writing community, to offer support?
About Cathy Yardley
Cathy Yardley is the author of eighteen novels, published with houses such as St. Martin's and Avon, as well as her self-published Rock Your Writing series. She's also a developmental editor and writing coach, helping authors complete, revise, and get their stories published. Sign up here for her newsletter to receive the free course Jumpstart Your Writing Career.
Hey Coach, good and useful stuff here. You offer laughs and comfort, and I think those are among the kindest gifts right now.
I have to laugh–we’ve done two “virtual cocktail hours” this week with other couples. In both, the query goes around to the participants, each explaining how effected, and in some cases hard-hit our friends have been (some have major business setbacks and challenges, others have elderly folk they can’t visit/need to provide for, etc.). Then, inevitably, it comes around to me, and I have to admit that… my life is pretty much exactly the same. Everyone who knows me knows I’m working on a rewrite (always), and that I take the dog on 2-3 walks a day. It’s a quick but familiar highlight reel.
Yep, Gidget and I have among the most unchanged of personal routines in the Western World right now. It’s always a conversational let-down. Luckily, it quickly changes the topic from yours truly.
Not that I’m unaffected by the anxiety and suffering of others. Just that, when I finally settle, butt-in-chair, it’s me in my story-world, with my characters. Same as ever.
So I guess that’s a bit of supportive advice I can offer my fellow writers. I’m guessing you know how it feels when you’re “in the zone.” Curmudgeony Hermit-boy here can attest: The zone is still there for you. It may be more difficult to get there. But if you continue to seek the time and space to settle, butt-in-chair (or stand-up desk; shout-out to Keith C.), I’m quite sure you’ll eventually lose your anxious footing and slip right down into the zone.
You and I both know it’ll be a reprieve. But more than that–the world needs you, now more than ever. Story is always what carries us through. Don’t deprive us of yours. Thanks, Cathy!
Vaughn, my friend! It makes me happy that your routine has not been too terribly affected by the global events. Just thinking of you tromping around with Gidget makes me happy, in fact! And I love your supportive advice. Keep on keeping on. :)
Cathy, thank you for this. As I sit here in the same LL Bean flannel I’ve been wearing all week (I do change my socks, by request of husband) I have to admit that like Vaughn (who I may have to start calling Yoda!), my life has changed little. I write, I walk. The big difference now is that I don’t get to hang with my grandchildren and I miss them like crazy. But I’m not homeschooling or dealing with high-risk family members, so I count myself blessed. I love what Vaughn said about the zone always being there. It’s what meditation teachers talk about when they refer to that unassailable place of peace inside you. Always there but so hard to reach. Writing trains us for this practice, and in less chaotic times, most of us get there. But now? Name your distraction. A few years back, when I was revising (again), watching a toddler three days a week, and being my dying mother’s ‘person’, I learned about compartmentalizing. It’s basically stating that “this next half hour is mine”, and shutting out the world for the duration. And yes, it takes practice. But it saved my life then and continues to save me now. I love everything you’ve said here, especially about getting and providing support for others. I have fallen in love with writers all over again.
There’s a lot of wisdom here, Susan, and a great perspective. And I am glad you’ve fallen in love with writers all over again. Compartmentalizing, and taking a meditative approach, sounds like just what we need right now. Thanks for commenting!
Cathy, this was just what I needed to read this morning. The King Lear goalpost seduces me and then shuts me down, along with listening too much to the plans and goals of others around me. My writing life is also very similar to pre-Covid days but we have added our twenty-something son and his girlfriend to the mix as they keep away from their NYC apartments. So I make a few more lattes and dinner is for four not two every night, and we never go out of course, but they add joy and comfort so I am not complaining. Overall you made me remember how finally I am going to instigate a word count for each day. I say I will and never do, so now is the time. Thanks so much for the lack of judgment and inspiration, Cathy, and the other commenters too.
Hang in there, Annie. Doing a word count challenge (remember, keep it small to start!) is a great way to both show support to other writers and keep yourself on track, if that’s helpful. Maybe we can post something in the Facebook group. I am glad you’re enjoying time with family!
Your son is a hoot! “Five bucks and a box of Froot Loops says you’re not going to write King Lear.”–Take the dare!!!
We’re settling into a good routine with our adult kids but I’m writing less because there’s more cooking/cleaning and family time. Placing God first makes everything else fall into its proper place. I love having this unexpected time at home with them.
I came across this beautiful quote by St. Jane Chantal: “We must be as satisfied to be powerless, idle and still before God, and dried up and barren when He permits it, as to be full of life, enjoying His presence with ease and devotion. The whole matter of our union with God consists in being content either way.”
God bless and protect you from all dangers.
Thanks, Vijaya. You and your family stay safe. :)
Vijaya, not only have I benefited from reading Cathy’s post (thank you, Cathy!!), but wow–I love the St. Jane Chantal quote. I’m about to copy and print it out!
I have lots going on: I’m “out there” as an essential worker, am in the very beginning of starting a new novel while I have the last completed novel out on submission to a few agents. #PinsAndNeedles And all this on the backsplash of world events.
Actually–and again, thanks to Cathy and everyone’s comments–I turned to WriterUnboxed just now to get myself psyched to open Word and begin typing…
Gotta go ;)
Elaine, I have a little book about the friendship between Sts. Francis de Sales and Jane de Chantal–it’s a saints by our side book. I pray you remain safe as you serve others and your stories.
Adding a link to the book for anyone else who’s interested: https://www.amazon.com/dp/081982738X/ref=nav_timeline_asin?_encoding=UTF8&psc=1
Vijaya, I’m getting to this post a couple of days late, but just wanted to add that your quote reminded of Milton’s famous sonnet “On His Blindness,” which ends, “They also serve who only stand and wait.” Waiting isn’t generally what we valorize in contemporary culture, with its emphasis on keeping busy all the time, but it’s what many of us are being asked to do right now; and it’s something writers are intimately familiar with: working in quiet, waiting for words to come, for edits to arrive, for books to form. Best to you.
What you said resonated with me and even more so because it was laced with some great laughs throughout. Thanks!
Glad I could provide a smile, Maggie. Thank you for commenting! :)
What a completely spot-on post. It is balm to my soul.
I work from home and continue to do so, but the work is far less these days than normal, so I had grand plans of finishing memoir, taking up painting and drawing (after a 30 year absence), finally becoming fluent in French, updating my blog with regular posts and learning how to do webinars and producing some – all at once.
None of this has happened, because of course I was frozen with anxiety and then wracked with guilt when I accomplished nothing more than usual. One highlight is that a friend is almost finished with the construction of the free library I have wanted to put outside the house for at least the duration of quarantine and as long as the books last. It’s turned out to be a masterpiece of sealed cedar siding, interior shelving, corrugated tin roof and a lovely Plexiglas door with knob and fastener, all waterproofed securely. At least HE has been productive during this crisis!
For me, small steps today, starting with a blog post I have planned. It feels freeing.
I know that feeling… the “I now have time”, so grand plans get drawn up, while your subconscious is going “hello, global pandemic here aiiiigh!!” Being kind and forgiving ourselves is all we can do.
You are doing great. Hang in there, and celebrate your small steps!
Cathy,
Love your post. Apocryphal story: An expert examining Michelangelo’s notebooks estimated that he had planned about 200 years’ work.
Most of us are unrealistic about what we can do with our time.
LOL. Good to know that for centuries, creative people have been wildly overestimating their production and underestimating their capacity… even the geniuses. :D Thanks for commenting!
“An expert examining Michelangelo’s notebooks estimated that he had planned about 200 years’ work. ” Love this!!!
Hey Coach,
You bombtastic. All this stuff mushed up together is like the blob. It’s this big monster that’s coming for you and you run from, it screaming to the nearest box of juji fruit. But then you come along and break it down. And suddenly it’s not a blob just nice little steps you take one at a time and you turn around and Oh my god I hit my writing goal and baked a pan of cookies and loaded the dishwasher. Yippee!
You, my dear, are a rock star. You got this. :D
Thank you for this :)
Since I’m retired and always spend my days at home writing and fussing around the house (and working out), I saw no reason why I should be any less productive that usual, if not more so! And yet… there is obviously an element of mental unrest that creeps in during times like this, and makes it hard to focus. At least, for those of us who *always* have trouble focusing.
I’d like to blame it on having both adult sons home but… they mostly stay in their caves, and the younger one has taken over one night a week fixing dinner, so… yeah, it’s not holding water.
So your wise words about taking little steps and training myself, same as I’ve been doing for getting back up to long bike rides resonates. I’ll keep trying :)