When NOT to write - and the agony.

It's been a month of barely any writing. 

Firstly, thankyou to all my subscribers for being there. You each mean so much to me.

Secondly, many apologies for the complete lack of output from me.

I'm coming back, I promise, but from one of the most intense months ever.

I'm a big fan of just showing up each day to write, in fact, that's what I do Monday to Friday. Turn up to do the work, do the writing, shut my laptop, stop. Some days go terribly, but I believe in just keeping showing up and doing something, anything, at all. I've written about that in previous newsletters.

But sometimes you can't. Sometimes, in spite of dedication, passion, determination, love of words and the all consuming need to write  - you can't. You have to stop, whether you like it or not. This happened to me, and I didn't like it. But I thought I would write about it here, because we all post about how to keep going at writing, but I've never read anything about knowing when you have to stop. 

Everyone's limits and reasons to stop will be different, but here are a selection of my cut off points when I have to down tools.

1) I got a new dog. 2 year old rescue Jack Russell cross called Cheddar. The actual cutest, most loving good boy you can imagine. But.... Oh. My. God. I love him to bits, but this little agent of chaos has been like a bomb going off in my life. First of all I lost everything: my usual routine had to change, I suddenly couldn't do things I used to love, I lost the time/energy/will/ability to write AND read (which are who I AM), I lost all personal space including my actual body because he just wants to lie on me all the time, including he wants to come to the toilet with me - surely I have a right to do this alone?! 

Then I found my husband and I were at odds. Totally different experiences, as he would have a morning cuddle then head off for his own space at work, before returning for a short evening walk and playtime before bed. I work from home, so i was with Cheddar the whole intense day, doing the main walk and scooping the poop, trying to stop him weeing in the house, trying to stimulate/cuddle/work out what he needed, taking him out for gradual exposure to new things, ordering pet food, buying toys he's not interested in, spending hours on line trying to find back up dogsitters/dogwalkers for emergencies. Also, I don't have children, and noone told me about the quasi-motherhood experience until I got one. Particularly the conflicted feelings: "I love you with my whole heart but if I don't physically get away from you right now I'm going to start screaming and not be able to stop."

So, I've been completely physically and emotionally overwhelmed - and writing had to stop.

2) I have multiple, chronic health problems. For years and years I've fought them, but I've finally realised that, ultimately, tactical surrender is the quickest path  to recovery and a victory (of sorts). I used to try and write through, and sometimes I still do. It can help to accomplish something, feel an identity that isn't illness, escape into a different world where I am not disabled or limited, bathe my hurting brain in the beauty of words and images and characters who love and fight and keep going even when courage makes them bleed. But, also, sometimes i just can't write. Sometimes I have to stop, be ill, and wait to get better. Having my health take my writing away from me while I'm powerless to resist is some of the worst pain I know. It's not frustration - it's torture. But it happens - so writing has to stop.

3) Sometimes it's time to write, and I'm all set to write, but all my heart, and joy, and thoughts, and energy, and curiosity, and happiness are pulling me in a completely different direction. Do you know what? Then I follow it. Yes, to determination to write even when you're not in the mood, but what's the point if you're not at least hoping to find/generate they joy? If the joy is already elsewhere, and you know it, you'd be mad not to follow it. Creativity takes many, many forms, and is never a straight path. Don't be afraid to listen out when it calls to you to go somewhere unexpected. Dare. Be scared. Take a risk. Who cares if if doesn't work out? Who defines what works out anyway? Maybe you need to get on a train and find a beach watch waves. Or lie in the park. Or read. Or dunk biscuits in tea. Or play That Song on repeat. Who knows. But what I have always found, is it always, always feeds fresh energy back into my writing the next time I do write. Writing is living. Life is for living. Sometimes live - and stop writing.

4) After therapy. Enough said. Hide under a duvet. Drink hot drinks. Go for a walk. Whatever it takes to recover. Sure, you can pour it all into your writing later. But for now, take the break you need - stop writing. 

5) When you've done enough for one day. We all post here about the difficulty of starting writing, but it crucial to know when to stop. It's an important discipline to learn, and a tricky one because it can be different every day. Trust your mind and body to generate what's right for that day, and when you feel done, you probably are done. Quantity is not quality. I know a writer who writes for 8 hours a day when he's working on a book, which used to make me jealous, until I realised that his books aren't actually that good. So show up, write - then stop writing.

6) Life happens. Loved ones need you. Emergencies occur. The car breaks down. The cat gets sick. There is, in fact, more to life than writing, and sometimes, it is just writing. And I say that as someone for whom writing feels as necessary as breathing. But life happens - sometimes just stop writing.

However, oh god, the agony of not writing. I'm not me. I have a huge, empty chasm inside me. I don't feel anchored. I don't feel my purpose. I miss it, I miss it, I miss it. Terribly. So, this last month I had to come up with ways to cope:

WHAT TO DO WHEN I CANT WRITE:

Read.

Go to a cafe with a nice notebook and a nice pen and just scribble. 

Try writing poems instead of prose WIP.

Dream up the acknowledgements section for the books I'll publish where I'll weepily thank my friends, editor, and mentors.

Interact on Substack to feel like/remind myself I'm still a writer.

Drink tea and cry.

Reach out to any other writer I know who gets it.

Not being able to write for a month made me think, why do I write?

Here is my attempt to convey in words what I cannot express in words, ever.

I write as the river has to flow.

I write as the wind needs to breathe.

I write as the soil grounds down deep into the earth.

I write as a bird enjoys the wing.

I write as a caged lion roars.

I write as a tree keeps growing.

I write as a bee has to seek nectar.

I write to find the eighth colour of the rainbow.

I write because my heart both breaks and sings.

When I can't write, I silently weep teardrops of blood as I die a thousand tiny deaths.

So I write.

Thankyou for reading. It's my first post in ages, if anyone has the time an generosity to comment or respond it would mean the world!