I’ve never had a problem putting words on the page. I figure it’s mostly because I started on a newspaper, which teaches you to churn out copy and hit your deadlines or risk being reamed out in an open newsroom in the presence of jaded overworked colleagues.
Books are quite different of course — cumbersome, unwieldy, intimidating at times — but once you get in the rhythm of a draft, the easier and more enjoyable the work becomes.
The one thing that has tripped me up are periods of significant anxiety, especially when it comes to health, money or family. As most readers of this newsletter will know I’m in the grip of an extended slow-motion life-crisis that involves high emotional stakes and great deal of uncertainty. I’ve learned to live with it in many ways — my sleep has improved, I’m reading more and exercising and cooking again. My kids have stopped hotly accusing me of blanking out during their scintillating account of their latest epic Fortnite Victory Royale. I’ve even been socialising again which is such a relief — laughter is my drug, my panacea and release. On New Years Eve, I actually went out dancing and it was absolute bliss.
What I’m trying to say is that while things are not better exactly or resolved, I’ve begun to adjust. The hunted feeling I’ve lived with since September has eased. Instead of simply surviving I seem to be actually living again. And it’s brilliant. On the whole, I love life.
But there’s a problem. A big one. I have this novel I need to finish — a big flabby draft I need to dig into and carve into shape — but I just. Can’t. Fucking. Sit. Down. Or more precisely, I can but then I get distracted by something else that seems suddenly more pressing. It’s gotten to the point that even trying to turn my mind to the book is making me feel queasy. I know what’s going on, broadly speaking: the longer you step away from a writing project the more you start to feel doubtful about it. (When it comes to unfinished manuscripts, absence makes the heart grow fungus.) But this period of creative drought is slightly different in that my “new normal” is an uncertain one and it’s likely to be that way for several months.
I’m going to have to write my way through it somehow — I’ve accepted that — the question is how? So what I’m looking for in this thread are your strategies for writing (or just committing to any creative work project) during times of anxiety and uncertainty. Perhaps you find it easy? If so, I suspect you’re in a minority.
So what works for you? What doesn’t?
Do you draw up a strict program in advance and stick to it? Or just force yourself and see how you get on? Is it better to start incrementally with baby steps or set aside a chunk of time, clear the decks, then push out the boat and hope the wind takes you in a great big productive gust?
It’s January so the air is full of “reset” plans, I’m assuming many of you have similar fresh-starts on your minds. Please, please, please share your thoughts below. I know I’m supposed to be the sage on the hill of this newsletter but this time I need your help and advice.
I’m putting a paywall here as my open threads are only open to paid subscribers — but if you have brilliant to add please do consider taking advantage of my special new year’s offer (20% off an annual subscription) and becoming a member of the Juvenati. It’s a wonderfully supportive, entertaining community of like-minded creative souls and you won’t regret it I promise.