You can't write through your Achilles' heel when it's depression.

 I don’t want to write this blog post. I mean, I do, but I honestly really don’t. But I feel that I need to, even if this only reaches one person that needs to hear it. So, if you’re facing writer’s block, that Achilles' heel that you can’t seem to write through, and you’re empty and have lost all joy, this post is for you.

When Writers Block Means to Dig Deeper

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week is: "The most difficult scene you ever wrote and why."

I'm guessing that's why was it difficult, not why we wrote it. Though I do think the why we wrote the scene in the first place is relevant.

There's a school of thought among writers and writerly-advice givers that if a story becomes difficult - if the writer hits a block and grinds to a stop - then that's an indicator of Something Gone Wrong. I see this advice a lot. Writers will say - often in response to questions about how they handle Writer's Block - "When I hit a block, I know I've done something wrong, taken a wrong turn somewhere, so I go back and rework the plot."

You all have heard a version of this, right?

Makes me cringe every time. I'll tell you why.

What I hear in this dubious advice is writers advocating walking away from the hard parts and looking for an easier path forward. Now, I know this isn't always the case. Part of becoming a professional writer is learning to decipher your own internal voices - to differentiate between laziness and being truly depleted. To separate painfully accurate critique from toxic attempts to undermine you. To know when resistance means you took a wrong turn - OR when it means you need to dig deeper.

{{{Important caveat: Sometimes writers block can mean depression. Or physical or emotional exhaustion. I'm talking about if those factors have been ruled out. That's a whole 'nother kettle of fish and Mary Robinette Kowal has a great post about it.}}}

For me, resistance has always meant I need to put my nose to the grindstone. Keep picking at that wall. Make myself walk through the fire. Pick your metaphor: in my experience, the best stuff lies on the other side of that wall. I've experienced it repeatedly.

My friend and SFF author Kelly Robson talks about not taking the Monkey Bypass. That's a great essay she wrote about it at the link. In essence, the Monkey Bypass is an opportunity to avoid filth and damage. Robson argues, and I agree, that you can't let your characters bypass danger. I think an author also can't allow herself to retreat from pain and difficulty.

Why have I persisted in writing those difficult scenes? Because the story required it.

I have never once been sorry that I kept pushing through those blockades.

I recently released THE FATE OF THE TALA, the climactic book in my Twelve Kingdoms and Uncharted Realms series. Those who follow me regularly - especially those who listen to my daily (almost) podcast, First Cup of Coffee - know that I had a hell of a time writing this book. I'm not sure if I can point to a specific scene, because the whole freaking book was mostly picking at that wall. And kicking it, pummeling it, then collapsing in a sobbing heap and scraping myself together to try again.

At one point, my mom - who listens to my podcast with the loyalty of a mom - asked if I couldn't just put the book down, walk away from it and write something else for a while. "Isn't this supposed to be fun?" she asked.

Well... no. I don't believe that good art only comes from suffering, but sometimes writers DO need to hold their own feet to the fire to get to the good stuff.

I discovered a lot of things in writing that book - and not just that it's a bitch to write a novel that ties up a 16-episode thread (counting novels and shorter works in the arc). I realized I was working out emotional issues in my own life and marriage that I hadn't faced. And I discovered amazing things from the seeds I'd planted ten years ago, when I began writing THE MARK OF THE TALA.

Now I have readers coming back and telling me how they loved the way I tied this up. Here's one from this morning:

I am amazed at how well you brought it all together in this last book! It was so good; I cried several times. It got me through a very difficult week, when I’m not sure any other book would have held my attention. Thank you!!

— SonomaLass *Warren for Majority Leader* (@SonomaLass) March 8, 2020

Totally worth that slog through the monkey enclosure!

When life drowns the writing

Hoh boy. This week on SFF Seven we're talking about how to stay motivated when life "spirals downward" (<-- poetic way of putting it, yes?).

If you have suggestions, please do feel free to pass them along.

Truth is, I'm a bit under water right now -- family health emergencies, pre-teen drama, pet emergencies, home repair problems, kind of you name it and I'm dealing with it. (You don't want to hear the litany of despair. You really don't.) It would be amazing if I could say the writing was keeping me going or even that I have been able to write whole stories despite.

But it's not and I haven't.

I wake up in the morning with stories in my brain. Sometimes I scribble in the notebook beside my bed. Sometimes I thumb-type dialogue on my phone while I'm waiting in a doctor's office or hospital room or vet clinic or school pick-up line. Back when the words were coming and life was being kind, I got used to assigning a multi-hour stack of time for writing, during which I could deep dive into the story, but nowadays I'm having to train myself to take stories piecemeal, scribbles here and emailed snippets there. It's like I'm rewiring the whole structure of how I work.

And honestly? If this goes well, if I manage to train myself to write books on the run like this, that will be a perfect kind of magic.

Because I don't want to make writing the center point of my universe. My family is already there, I love them, and I have made promises to them. Comparatively, I've promised writing very little -- I have no contracts or deadlines and very few expectant readers, and I can choose either to be depressed about that lack or to be grateful I don't have yet another competing commitment.

I choose to be grateful. Because managing the spiral is about understanding your priorities, and right now, writing is not my priority.

When goal-setting becomes counterproductive

I used to be a huge goal-setter and plan-maker. Once, during a 16-week technical writing contract that turned out to be pure agony -- I had to physically clock in and wear pantyhose, for the love of everything holy! -- I hand-drew a calendar and gleefully X'd out each completed day. So satisfying! Later, when I managed a department, I had to-do lists and calendars running for twenty or more projects at a time and felt like I was queen of the freakin universe. My personal planning during college was a thing of beauty.

But becoming a writer broke something inside my brain. (At least one thing, you might say.) I don't make plans anymore. I can't. It hurts too much.

As much as folks say you can't take anything personally in this business -- because it's, well, a business -- the near-constant barrage of failure can be traumatic. I've heard of writers making plans to have X number of releases or hit certain lists or write X number of words each day or earn enough to quit the day job, and I'm not saying don't ever do those things. What I'm saying is be prepared for your meticulously laid plans to go sideways with no warning and through no fault of your own. And be prepared for that to happen a lot.

Writing for publishers is notoriously out of writers' control. I've experienced publishers that went out of business, lines that were discontinued immediately after my story was released, publishers that spontaneously decided not to pay out royalties, one series that just stopped abruptly, crap sales, snarky reviews, and anthologies that languished sometimes for years after the contracts were signed.

At the beginning of this writing adventure, of course I made short-term, medium-term, and long-term career plans. I was the queen, remember? I wrote my goals down, affirmed them, created calendars and lists and committed myself whole-heartedly to gettin shit done.

And each time the industry spasmed and one of my stories -- one of my goals -- was affected, I would look at all those intricate plans and see only lists of failures. Irrationally but inevitably I decided these were my failures, and I owned them.

It's not easy to admit, but there were times when the failures became too much, too many, and depression crept in. My critique partner and I went through a lot of similar experiences and took to calling the big D "the pit." We'd text things like "Pit's deep today," and the other would reply with something like, "Yeah, but you're still good. I still believe in you."

So, I don't make goals anymore. I don't have plans in the detailed sense, save one:

I plan to write stories for as long as I am able and
make them available to whomever wants to read them. 

How precisely this master plan goes down is a wide open who-knows. And that's okay.

Out of the Clear Blue Sky

I guess I'm demonstrating how life intrudes upon creative spaces. Because we're going to talk about yet another suicide by a creative icon who, a bunch of people close to her say showed no signs at all that she was in danger. Let's also have a look at the headline that popped up on today's news feed: Suicide rates in the US have increased by 25% since 1999.  That increase is overwhelmingly among people with no known mental illness. Add into this the fact that high creativity types also tend to higher incidences of mood disorders than the population at large, and you have me on my mental well-being soapbox. C'mon up and join me.

Adulting is hard. For some people in these not-so-United States, adulting is getting harder and harder by the day. And if you've never been diagnosed with a mood disorder or mental illness of any kind, knowing you're in danger can be incredibly difficult.

Not wanting to be alive doesn't lend itself to objectivity. It feels as if it came out of the clear blue sky. It can be an awful, shaky, out of control, desperate place to be. Or it can be the ice cold, rational-feeling logic and certainty that this will never end. You will never be normal. That your life, if you keep at it, will be nothing but a long march of sitting by watching everyone else succeed and smile and live while you personify failure and uselessness.

It's a lie. This is broken biology. And it's lying to you. So if you've ever wondered about your mental/emotional well-being, there are a few measures and questions you can track for yourself.

1. Did I feel this way yesterday? If no, when did it start? Did anything happen before it began? Can I trace back to when I started feeling like I might be better off dead? When was that? Did anything happen? (There need not be a reason - but the mental exercise is useful.)
2. How bad is this? Give it a number between 1 and 10. Or use Hyperbole and a Half's scale. But this is important. If you're edging past 7, or if you're sitting at 1 all the time, it's time to call someone. Your MD. One of the Suicide prevention hotlines. The important thing on this one is to do this assessment daily and WRITE IT DOWN. You want to watch your trends. If you're in a bad spell, do an hourly check in - keep a light hand. There's no pressure. Just checking in. Write it down. Walk away. Drink water. Come back an hour later for another check in. Change? Okay. No change? Okay. Walk away. Drink water. Breathe.
3. What success did I have today? Even if it's just 'got out of bed' it's enough.  'Drank water' it's enough.
4. Am I creating? Simple yes/no. This is another trend to track. One of the most telling questions in the mood disorder survey is "Are you no longer participating in activities you once enjoyed?" When someone asks you that question while you aren't convinced you want to be alive, you can't recall ever enjoying anything, so the answer is generally a shrug and "No, that part's okay, I guess." Tracking doesn't lie and it won't let you lie to yourself if you can flip back through your days and see the avalanche of 'no' on this creative question.

The problem with mood disorders and suicidal ideation is that this stuff creeps up on you. A single fire ant stings, but it can't take you down. It's only after the little bastards have crawled up your leg unnoticed and start stinging en mass that you realize you're in serious danger. So it's important to measure. To check in. "Can I survive the fire ants, today? Are they sneaking up on me and getting slowly worse? Or are they steadily bad and I've just gotten numb to them?" Either way. If you're having more bad days than actively good days, it's time to make a call or a text to the number linked above. Or to talk to your doctor as a start.

The world needs you and what you have to create more than ever. And if like me, you're staring at your once beloved project, struggling, wondering why you just can't - check those fire ants, my friend. You're being stung. You don't have to be the one to brush them away on your own. It is safe to ask for help. You'll find it's a great relief to ask for help even before anyone even rises to your aid.

Trigger Warnings and Owning Recovery

If you're recovering from sexual assault, it's been a rough couple of weeks. Again. This week saw the #MeToo hashtag sweep social media. There were no trigger warnings. And yes, people were triggered - people who are in the midst of attempting to recover their sense of safety and their sense f of self. Seeing all the #MeToo hashtags brought their trauma roaring back at them. Some were women. Some were men. Some were nonbinary. It didn't matter. Their only option for protecting themselves was to swear off social media for the week and pray the rest of us moved on in that time. As we usually do. If these folks are lucky, they have someone they can trust who can tell them when it's safe to tread the social media water once more. If they aren't lucky, they have to dip a toe in the water to see if Jaws is still down there waiting to chomp bits off of them.

Bringing awareness to the depth and breadth of the sexual assault issue in this society is a worthy goal. The problem is the cost of that awareness is blood squeezed from the already broken bodies and psyches of those abused in the first place. Do I believe that those of us who've been assaulted regain our power when we can stand up and say 'hey, this is a thing?' Yes. But it isn't my call to make. I don't get to drag someone else healing in their own time, in their own way through a simple hashtag. I guess I'm saying that a few people are realizing that every female, a few males and a few nonbinary folks they know have been assaulted. Yay. More eyes on the issue. I'm also saying that maybe there should have been a trigger warning somewhere.

On the other hand.

Most of you know I've had my issues with depression - the kind of depression that bottoms out in suicidal ideation. Translated: I get depressed and stare Death in the eye. He's not a bad dude. He does promise you won't have to feel any more and that can be mighty damned attractive. However. I have a firm grip on what we say to Death. So I sought treatment. It worked. It worked well enough that I no longer require treatment.

However. I know my limits and I own them. It's on me to take care of my mental health all day every day. I do not require or ask for trigger warnings. My issues are my issues and it's on me to handle them the same way I handle food triggers for migraines. If I don't want to wind up in an ER, I read ingredients and quiz the wait staff. Peanuts anywhere near this dish? Cheese? How about wheat? No? Woot! I get to eat! Mental health gets handled the same way. Post a graphic animal or child abuse video to my social media feed and get your ass blocked. My health. My responsibility.

So. Am I going to post trigger warnings to my fiction? Probably not. Simply because there are too many triggers out there in the world and I cannot possibly encompass them all. I will always alert readers to graphic sex scenes so parents can decide who gets to read what. I will also do my damnedest in the book descriptions to make it clear EXACTLY what kind of read you're going to get. Because let's be real. If you're writing trying to purposefully ambush readers with awful, you aren't edgy. You aren't an artist. You're just an asshole.

The Port in the Storm

Everyone and everything alive is subject to the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Thank you, Shakespeare. How do you write while navigating whatever slings and arrows have been fired your way? I'd really like to know because I am the acknowledged cosmic empress of losing my footing when life shoots at me.

Maybe the fact that I seem to take it personally is a factor. The thing is we all have our challenges. Migraines are my major stumbling block because when those hit, they hit in waves, and I'll be down for several days in a row. They are electrical storms in the brain - so assuming I can even bear to look at a screen (which is assuming a lot) - nothing cogent can penetrate the random firing pattern of the synapses and the subsequent pain. Boo hoo, poor me, right? That's actually not what this is about - it's to point out that there are things and times in life when writing is 100% the least appropriate thing you can do. Or to recognize that there are times when writing is beyond your grasp, that nothing you do will get you words that day. Or that week. And that's okay.

What's not okay is forcing yourself into someone else's mold. What's not okay is avoiding the writing when physical capability has been restored. You have to come back to the writing and you have to keep coming back.
Emotional hits, stress, chaos, all of those can be written through - and I'd argue SHOULD be written through. Someone once told me that when the shit hit the fan, you can either turn away from your writing, or you can turn toward your writing. Turning toward your writing might mean being vulnerable on the page. It might mean changing where you are in the story so you can channel emotion/conflict/tension/whathaveyou to your characters. It's one of the ways I siphon off intense emotion - I figure out where in my story my character(s) feel the exact same way and I write that scene while the emotion is still fresh in me. Just by virtue of examining how and where I feel stuff lessens its impact. I get freed up. And I take great, spiteful glee in using the messy, painful parts of my life to completely muck up my characters' lives. This makes writing my port in a storm.

What about time? There will be days you don't have time for much of anything. But you have twenty minutes before you sleep - and in that twenty minutes, you huddled in bed with your laptop - you can pour out 750 of the crappiest words on the face of the planet. But you'll have written. You'll end your day on a brief, shining moment of triumph. You'll learn to write in the gaps - the brief snippets of ten minutes here. Fifteen there. And while you might not win any speed awards (gods know I don't) you will eventually amass a book, just by virtue of showing up and persisting no matter what comes.

One last quote that I keep in a file on my computer:
“Brick walls are there for a reason. The brick walls are not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to show how badly we want something. Because the brick walls are there to stop the people who don’t want something badly enough. They are there to keep out the other people” Randy Pausch

Whether or not someone writes, regardless of circumstance, really does come down to wanting to write badly enough.*


*Clinical depression or other mental health issues notwithstanding. Those need treating before you can evaluate what you do and don't want.