From Women Writers,Women’s Books:
“I’m just not connecting to my writing in the same way,” I explained to my mom over the phone. Curled into an old rocking chair in my living room in Quebec, I was chatting with my mom – also a writer – who was likely feet up on the old couch in her small loft in California. “I’m not falling as deeply into it, I’m not as vulnerable. I like it, I just feel different lately,” I tried to clarify. I was picking at my toes and across the miles/kilometers I would bet mom was too.
I’m in a burnout phase right now as a writer. Not only does my writing show signs of burnout on the surface, it also feels forced when I dive in.
Unlike the first few times this happened to me, I don’t mind. I’m noticing and thinking about it, but I don’t mind. During times of burnout I remind myself that all my inspiration, my deepest desires to write, happen to me when I am living life outside of my writing. Sometimes simply walking, driving, reading, or spending time in conversation will be enough to bring the invigorating writing back.
But often a simple drive or long walk isn’t enough. Often, I need to live life outside of my writing longer. Much longer. Long enough to grow different myself. To evolve a little. To notice my environment evolving, too. I’m old enough now to recognize that most things are sort of phase-y. The things that are necessary to my version of me – dancing, walking in nature, being with family, writing – will find their way back, so I try not to freak out when they are lacking. Sometimes I seamlessly find myself back in the delicious space of their embrace, and sometimes I push a little. Hence when my writing is feeling forced, I try to let it go. Be a version of me that is not writing. I am also old enough to know some things will have had their time and it is okay to let go. I don’t feel my writing is there yet, but I am comfortable reminding myself that I have written. That my stories, ideas, perspectives, and painfully crafted sentences meant to reveal a truth I myself was seeking to name, are already in the world. I wrote them and they will not be unwritten. This comforts me. This comforts me to a point of releasing some pressure on my writing and, funnily enough, creating a space where I can more easily write. I confess, this allowing time is a luxury I have because I do not write for a living. My writing is purely for pleasure. And man! What pleasure! However, another thing I have learned that might help during a phase of burnout for those who must keep writing: readers don’t recognize the difference as painfully as we do.
As writers we feel passion in our work, we create with purpose and craft with intention. We disappear and discover ourselves, paradoxically. It can be intoxicating! When that is missing, when the writing just feels like writing, we are disappointed. But readers often aren’t.
My mom (who is an accomplished writer) often can’t tell years later when her writing was inspired and when it was simply work. So, if she can’t tell, neither can we!
Let’s note that we have a skill, and it is still there. Maybe less so during burnout, but still there. I think, maybe, we writers can also see burnout as a good sign.
If we are writing well, putting ourselves into our work with passion and purpose, we should need to take breaks.
Why not also recognize burnout as a sign that you are awesome? That you open yourself up to being burnt out by offering so much of yourself to your chosen craft? I mean, that is kind of what’s happening, right? I think so.
Link to the rest at Women Writers,Women’s Books
All Rights Reserved Book Blog