Taking a Break is as Important as Writing
Whilst thousands of authors wrote a flurry of words in November thanks to NaNoWriMo, I was sitting on my hands. Why? Because writing had become somewhat of a struggle. I’d fallen out of the habit, I’d lost my mojo and some personal factors had bumped my depression up a notch.
So I set a set-imposed ban on writing.
Now I’m champing at the bit to get going again…
Writing is a funny business. Like many things, there’s an associated guilt that goes along with it, especially when you’ve downed tools for a few moments. Any spare moment you’re not tapping away, you’re thinking you should be. It starts to take over your life. I’m eating dinner and all my mind is doing is – I should be writing. I’m watching a movie – I should be writing. I’m spending time with my loved ones – I should be writing.
And why should I be writing? Because, of course, for those brief few minutes away, the writing world is passing me by, opportunities are slipping through the gaps, getting the next book out and staying away from obscurity is becoming harder. And then, the longer I leave it, the worse it becomes. And, when I’m battling mental illness, the worse the guilt gets, the larger the depression becomes and the more I begin to feel that ‘what’s the point of writing? I’m no good at it. I can’t do it. No one wants to read my work anyway.’ And slowly, but surely, dreams are crushed.
Having gotten to a point where I was laying in bed at night worrying about the fact I wasn’t writing, that my mental blocks prevented me from getting words out, I decided enough was enough. Time for a writing ban.
For those first few days, I was guilt-ridden. It was there in the back of my mind – you need to be writing, you’re wasting time, you’ll never get ahead this way. But these thoughts slowly subsided and I allowed myself to indulge (binge) on Netflix. I spent time with my family. I took the dog for a walk. I allowed myself to sit down and take notes on life goals and plans. I did some DIY. I focussed on other dreams. I even worked on some back-list administration – updating links, changing blurbs, ordering some new covers (yes, CRYO’s getting new covers).
The lack of guilt was LIBERATING.
I’m now excited to write again. I’d forgotten how that feels. I have stories circulating around my mind. I have scenes for RENOVO, CRYO and a new series, knitting themselves together and fleshing themselves out. I’d become so bogged down in attempting to make sales, trying to reach a point where I could earn a living from writing and – I’m going to say it – fighting off that green figure of envy upon seeing friends do well – that I had completely lost the point of what I was doing – getting words to paper and letting my imagination flow.
As the guilt ebbed, so too did the disheartened feeling of seeing a lack of sales, or a poor show of reviews. I also realised just how much stress I’d been putting upon myself.
Tomorrow it’s December 1st and I’m going to be writing. I cannot wait.
Tagged: writing, writing break



I didn't jump on the NaNoWriMo bandwagon either though. In fact, I did very little writing during November. I didn't intentionally set a ban, but I've let myself become more relaxed about doing other things sometimes, and trying to ignore the guilty voice that creeps in to my mind and whispers about missed oppertunities every time I do something that isn't writing related. I realized at the end of September that I needed to relax some, when I tried to justify a trip to the aquarium during a once a year visit from some of my family by telling myself it was fine because the book I'm writing at the moment is set at least partially underwater, so it could technically count as research. It wasn't meant to be a research trip, but an outing with family, and yet I felt I had to label it as such to justify skipping writing time to do it. So, at that point I decided I needed to step back a little and remind myself that it's OK to do something that's not writing/book related. It means my book production is a lot slower, but I'm now at a point where I can accept that this is perfectly fine.