Yesterday I got up after a good night’s sleep (a rarity) eager to write the next 10 pages or so of my novel. I had a really good idea, and I was sure it would be brilliant, insightful, poetic, etc.
Then I opened my email program and found a hateful message from someone I’d never met, a lurker on one of my discussion groups who objected to something I posted earlier in the week.
As a result, I wrote nothing yesterday. Or more accurately, I wrote about 5 drafts to this blog, then erased them. I finally gave up and spent the evening in front of the TV.
For someone like me, who is struggling with depression and all that goes with it, a single nasty email is devastating. It as if I were solving one of those word puzzles where you change one letter at a time to get a new word, beginning with “drug” and ending with “brig.” (Drug, drag, brag, brig) So my day went something like this:
C.D. didn’t like what I said –> I said the wrong thing. –> I always say the wrong thing. –> I never do anything right. –> No one likes anything that I do. –> No one likes my writing. –> No one likes me. –> I’ll never find anyone to love me. –> I’ll never make it as a writer. –> I’ll never get a job. –> I’m going to end up broke. –> I’m going to be a burden to my family. –> I’m worth more to my family dead than alive. –> Why don’t I just die and leave my money to my family?
So, thanks for nothing, C.D. Jerk.
As usual, a night of TV followed by sleep has turned my attitude around a bit, and this morning I sat down with new determination to write. I imagine myself as a successful author, and C.D., forgetting about the nasty email he sent me yesterday, would one day want to meet me. I imagine myself telling him to do something that’s anatomically impossible.
It’s got me thinking about the way I do things. Because I checked my email first thing upon sitting at my desk, I lost an entire day of writing. If only I’d done the writing first, then checked my email at the end of the day, just before turning on Jeopardy!
Should I isolate myself from the outside world so nothing can ruin my writing day? Can I do that every day? Or should I have days where I do my research, set my schedule, go to appointments and keep up with my online contacts and other days when I remove myself from this world and live in the world of my novel?
Trying to figure these things out is tortuous. The problem with creative work is that no one can tell you exactly how to do it. There’s no step-by-step process for writing. As a result, I’m continually frustrated. Do I write in the mornings or late at night? Do I take frequent breaks or none? Do I outline my story or just do what Stephen King does–put my characters in peril and see what happens? Is it possible to write full time? Do I write a little every day or a lot a couple of days a week? Do I edit as I go or just gut it out and get to the end? When do I do my filing? What should I be reading while I write?
I hope that by the time I finish this novel, I’ll have figured these things out and my next novel will go faster and easier. The problem is that this assumes that the rest of my life won’t change significantly, and if nothing is going to change, why am I bothering to write?
