Category Archives: The Writing Life

Crowds wear me out. As do conventions and even large meetings. At first, I thought I was an introvert but that didn’t always make sense because I like people and I like conventions. But they tired me out and so I searched for coping strategies. How could I even enjoy myself, let alone talk to anyone, especially agents and publishers, if I wasn’t on my game?

I embarked on a journey to find the perfect wardrobe- inside and out. Outside was easy – some interesting jewelry, clothes with a unique flare. Inside I needed to know if I was an introvert trying to maneuver in an extrovert world. Despite doing the research and planning for events, I found I still wore out easily and I began to suspect that it may not be about whether I was an introvert or an extrovert. How could it be? I’ve spoken in front of hundreds of people, given workshops and have been a guest speaker only to now find myself dreading crowds. I was getting tired everywhere, all the time – at meetings, critique groups, writing retreats and workshops. What was going on?

Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS) – that was the diagnosis. It crept slowly into my life stretching like a shadow on a lazy summer day, creeping until it melded with the dusk. It eroded my energy, my confidence and my ability to fully participate in events and conferences. Worse yet, it decreased my productivity because I tired easily. My greatest fear now wasn’t what color I should wear, it was about whether I’d have enough energy to maintain a productive and fulfilling writing life.

There is no known cause and there is no cure. One of the current theories is that the mitochondria (our cells’ power plants) aren’t functioning optimally. I’ve learned coping strategies to manage the symptoms and to reduce ‘flare ups’. Writing goals have been adjusted and are being met. I’ve learned to limit activities and to be more strategic about interactions. I’m managing it so it doesn’t manage me. It’s not perfect and I do suffer from over-exertion but I sometimes choose to do things knowing there will be consequences.

When it comes to my writing life now, to being at conferences or at workshops, I know what I need to do to function. Part of it is understanding that over stimulation is tiring, that there is only so much I can do and participate in and then I must rest. It’s manageable and if I’m careful with my energy, I can be as productive and outgoing as I want to be. As for what color to wear? It really doesn’t matter anymore. I know my limitations and whether I wear brighter colors or quieter ones, my confidence is back because I’m in control and I can pick my moments.

My apologies to fellow CFS sufferers because I don’t mean to minimize the effects of CFS or to imply that there’s a simple solution. This blog isn’t about coping strategies, management and symptoms. It’s about letting people know that sometimes when you feel like life is overwhelming and that you don’t have enough energy to do the things you want to or to even enjoy them, sometimes it’s important to step back and take stock. Ask those questions about physical and mental health, consider if you’re taking on too much, examine expectations – take charge so you can choose the colors you want to wear on any day so you can achieve your goals in your writing life.

Art Is Pain: A Brief Overview of the Role of Catharsis in Fiction

October 7, 2014

Evan Braun

Author's Perspective Evan Braun Reflection Self-Awareness Storyline The Writing Life 1 Comment

Writing is scary. Like, really scary.

It’s also liberating and beautiful and a host of other very positive things, but like all art, the process of creating it is often full of pain. When I first learned of this month’s theme, I realized I’d struck gold. After all, it sometimes seems as though I have enough insecurities to fill an entire week of posts.

Most writers (and probably all of the truly good ones) mine heavily from their own lives to spin their tales—and more importantly, the characters that inhabit them. No question about it, real-life influences keep books feeling fresh, relevant, and relatable to the reading public. The dark side is that sharing of one’s self in such personal and intimate ways also requires gut-wrenching honesty. And artists are, as a rule, slightly more tormented than average. Put this all together, and you have a recipe for maximum creative angst.

In psychotherapy, it’s referred to as “catharsis”—the discharge of pent-up emotions so as to result in the alleviation of symptoms or the permanent relief of the condition. The term also applies to drama, with more or less the same definition. A play, a movie, a book (any kind of art, really) explores highly emotional themes, often through tragic narratives, all in an attempt to get the audience/viewer/reader to feel some combination of strong emotions, and by feeling these emotions express the pain and torment within themselves in such a way that relieves them of it, so that they don’t have to actually carry out similar tragedies in the real world.

But it’s not just the consumer of the art who goes through the cathartic process. To an even greater degree, the artist experiences it through the act of creation.

I have to admit that I often get emotionally involved in my stories. When I’m writing something sad, I work myself up into a state of sadness. It’s not always conscious, either. I don’t make myself sad so that the writing will better convey the sadness. Rather, the act of writing about sadness takes its toll on me. The same goes for a wide range of emotional states. And this effect is amplified when I’m writing about scenarios that are relevant to my life; if my character is experiencing a sort of sadness I myself am sincerely steeped in in my personal life, it’s awfully easy to get worked up about it. (The challenge in editing then is to remove some of the melodrama from the first draft.)

I’ve probably made myself sound sufficiently insane now. A bit schizophrenic, perhaps.

Well, you’re welcome. Delving into my own pain is a sacrifice I willingly make to enhance my reader’s potential enjoyment of my work! This doesn’t just make the books better, though. While the writing process is somewhat painful at times (and perfectly enjoyable at other times, yes), it’s also incredibly fulfilling.

The Crust of Mediocrity

October 6, 2014

Kim May

Goals Kim May 2 Comments

When I was in college I thought I would make dinner for my family. It wasn’t anything fancy — just a pizza and I used Bisquick for the crust — but since Mom worked long hours and my siblings had sports practices that ran late I figured they’d love it anyway.

As it turned out Bisquick was (and still is) my culinary kryptonite. The pizza crust could have doubled for a paving stone. I followed the instructions to the letter and I didn’t over cook it. As far as I can tell it should have turned out perfectly. For that matter, nothing else I’ve made since with the product has turned out either. It’s still edible and the flavor is spot on. It’s just too crunchy for the experience to be enjoyable (and potentially detrimental to dental work).

Now I’m afraid to touch that defiant yellow box.

I have a similar fear concerning my writing. Not that the story won’t turn out right. Practice, study, and good editing will take care of that. No, my fear is that no matter how hard I try my writing will be mediocre.

Now I do realize that mediocre is a relative term. For some it might be the absence of awards and accolades. For others it might be that they can’t afford to quit the day job. I define it as being as unsuccessful as a writer as I am with Bisquick. That no matter how hard I study and fine-tune my craft my literary contributions will amount to a glutinous hocky puck that will be laughed about for years.

I want to be better than that and unfortunately only time will tell. There’s no way to safeguard against it. I simply have to practice, hone, and cross my fingers that this time it works.

Logging those Flight Hours

October 3, 2014

mary

Mary Pletsch The Writing Life 1 Comment

I don’t have a lot of feeling in half of my left hand. I developed an ulnar entrapment in my mid 20s and went to a specialist to see what could be done. I was offered a choice: surgery that had a 50% chance of restoring the sensation, and a 50% chance of leaving me with movement problems in addition to sensation problems.

I skipped the surgery. I may not always be able to feel my fingers, but at least they work: I can still type, and I can still write.

I’ve written before about my challenges with aphasia, but I got an unpleasant surprise a few months ago when I developed a persistent ache in my right wrist. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to cause the pain. I couldn’t remember tripping and landing on it, picking up something too heavy, or any precise moment when the pain began.

I had story submissions that I wanted to complete. Even if I let those slide, I still had to go to work, in a job that required computer use. It was like the surgery choice all over again, except this time, there was no choice. There was only a what-if: What if I can’t write any more? What if I have carpal tunnel? What if I lose movement, not just feeling, in my hands?

Fortunately, I was moving cross-country this summer, meaning I’d be out of work and offline with my computer packed for travel. I didn’t use a computer very often for a period of about six weeks. My wrist finally started feeling better. All healed up, I got my computer online in my new home and sat down to do some writing.

Ow.

This wrist problem is very real, and, while I can manage it, it is not going away. The spectre of developing carpal tunnel syndrome or sustaining further nerve damage hovers over me even as I try to boost my daily word count.

I now wear my braces when I’m writing. No exceptions. I’ve also switched my mouse to the left side of my desk, so that I’m using my non-dominant hand for pointing and clicking. I’m hoping that by outsourcing the bulk of the point and click work to my other hand, I can give my right hand more of a break. I’m also undergoing treatment for shoulder and back pain.

When I was flying gliders, we had to record how much time the aircraft spent in flight. After a certain number of flight hours, the airframes were stripped down and rebuilt from the ground up to ensure all the components were in proper working condition. The human body isn’t an aircraft, and I won’t be able to swap out parts when they get worn out. I plan on writing for the rest of my life, and in order to do so, I need to take proper care of my wrists and back.

Long term, I may need to look into voice-recognition software if the wrist problem intensifies. I’m not sure how well it will work for me, particularly when aphasia is garbling my ability to speak. I am afraid it will not work for me. I am afraid I will need it.

But I will write. I will write somehow, whatever accommodations I need to make to do so safely and healthily.

You are not as immortal as you think you are when you’re young. Parts wear out. Bodies wear down. If you are in it for the long haul…make wise decisions and plan accordingly.