How Not to Hurt

I’d been ready to say that I didn’t think much about ergonomics, but then I took a look around. The lifelong pursuit of anything that might keep migraine pain to a dull roar has given me a whole lot of tools in my ergonomics toolbox. Some are things I just like. The rest are attempts to mitigate or prevent pain.

In the ‘I just like it’ category:

• Positive click keyboards. Straight. I expect some acknowledgement from the keys when I type. I need that sensory feedback or writing isn’t writing and I will be deeply dissatisfied.
• Writing in front of the fake fireplace on the sofa, usually with a cat in my lap – NOT ergonomic but warm, cozy, and purry.
• Writing in bed. Also not ergonomic, but at the end of a day, it’s a lovely segue into sleep.
• Noise canceling headphones. I swear to you these are why I am not currently doing life in a deep, dark prison somewhere.
• Creeptastic playlists. Ambient music has grown up on YouTube. I can find SciFi themed creepy stuff, I can find stuff that’s themed to particular fandoms – Alien, Cthulhu, zombie movies all kinds of stuff to write mayhem to.

In the ‘No Pain, Please’ category:

• Putting my monitor at eye level and my keyboard at waist level. I have an adjustable laptop desk with legs that can be adjusted any number of ways. I use it to get my laptop up high enough, so I look straight ahead at it. I use an auxiliary keyboard and mouse on my work surface to promote upright posture and to keep my head in a neutral, upright position rather than tilted down or carried forward of my spine. There was physical therapy involved in learning that this posture was my goal.
• Stand/sit desk – this is basically a desk that lets me stand when I want or sit when I need to, I also have a treadmill desk with one shelf set at eye level for the laptop and a waist high work surface for the keyboard and mouse. Variety, it turns out, also helps prevent pain.
• Blue blocker glasses. These really help reduce migraine pain. Not incidences of migraine – but with blue blockers, I don’t start a migraine and go from 0 to 60 on the pain scale in a few seconds flat. The blue blockers give me a much gentler ramp to ‘hey stupid, get flat’. If you need these, don’t cheap out. Real migraine glasses target two specific wavelengths of blue light. Cheapy glasses just throw a filter on some plastic and call it good. The real thing gives you targeted protection that’s worth the extra cash.
• Taking a daily 20-minute NSDR break. This isn’t just for posture. It’s for the brain and your entire nervous system.
• Exercises - I have a set of specific back and neck exercises designed to keep the shoulders pulled back and to counteract overstretch in the back of the neck. Those help.

In the normal course of generating a story, writing shouldn’t hurt. If it does, there’s likely a reasonable ergonomic solution. Sometimes, it means getting a professional like a physical therapist involved. Sometimes it means breaking up a repetitive motion cycle and giving weary muscles a rest. Ergonomics come down to you conducting a set of informed experiments to find out what helps you. It’s hard to have fun when what you love hurts you.

Preexisting Writing Conditions

 

Julia Cameron defines divas as those artists/creators who have to have everything JUST RIGHT before they can create. She notes that there's power in being able to create anywhere under any condition. I used to be that nimble, adaptable artist. Now, I'm not. I never wanted to be a diva, but I'm a diva.

I have a list of things that must be true before I can write.
1. I must be migraine free, or at least moving in that direction. Migraine directly and adversely impacts the language center in my brain. Words cannot escape the electrical storm inside my head to reach the external world. Some days, I lose speech. So really. To get words on virtual paper, not writhing in pain is strongly preferred.

2. I must be alone. Buckle up. This is a long one. Maybe you've noticed the long fallow period writing and I have been mired in. I sure have. Part of it is having four adults in the house at all times, thanks to a pandemic (and Dad's health issues.) I've always known I need a lot of space. A Lot. Prior to Covid, I got all of my alone time while people were still commuting to offices for work and the parents were out in the world going on adventures. When that shut down, pressure and heat and terrible stuff began building inside me. It drowned out the voices of my characters. After a while, it drowned out me altogether. It was at that point that my headache specialist noted I am suffering far more sensory issues than can be attributed to migraine. I mentioned it to a friend. This person reached through the internet, shook me and said, "You're autistic AF, and you're in autistic burn out." Uhm. WHAT? Found a therapist who broke it to me that my friend is right and it's time to learn what that means for me and how I cope with it. It's a great big rock dropped into the still pond of the life I thought I had. Lots of ripples, lots of reframing my past, lots of 'Oh. THAT'S why that happened that way.' With help and resources, I've learned what masking is and, in part, how and when to stop doing it. I've figured out what my stims are, and I'm allowing myself to use them. Most importantly, the reason I need to be alone is so I can drop all the masks and not have to worry about what someone else sees or feels as a result. It seems to be working and actively helping. Words are flowing again. Characters are talking to me and volunteering scenes. I'm hopeful.

3. A locking door. This goes back to being alone. Fortunately or unfortunately, my cats are clever enough to open a latched door. There's something about me writing that makes me popular to ALL the felines. Never am I so loved as when I dare to pay attention to something without fur for two hours a day. How dare my every waking thought not be about the felines? They tag team surfing the desk and my keyboard. They headbutt me in the chin. Hard. They flop into my arms and deploy the weaponized cute. They shake their tails in my face while blocking my computer screen. When the weather is reasonable, I can go out front into the enclosed porch. A bunch of accusing eyes glare at me through the sidelights. If they see me look their way, they add in their mournful wails of anguish that I don't love them anymore - alas, Mother! Why do you hate us so that you have shut us away from your loving embrace?? And maybe the lizards out front. It's very dramatic. When the weather is messy for one reason or another, I lock myself in my bedroom where I have a desk set up beside the window. I can chase cats out and close and lock the door - yes, I have an actual office, but there's no door on it. It's out there in the middle of the house with no means of shutting out the TV or attaining any kind of privacy. Not to mention the attention of every last cat in the house. It's a no go. Shutting myself in the bedroom results in Corvid rattling the door knob, body slams against the door in forlorn protest, and the occasional hissy scuffle while someone jockeys for the best position.  

4. Quiet - as part of the autism discovery process, it's clear I have auditory processing issues. Competing sound (TV on, someone talking to me at the same time) sends me right over the edge. If I'm trying to listen to voices in my head, I really need to not hear other voices. The closed doors help with this a lot. Ear plugs and/or noise canceling headphones playing ambient music drowns out the stray bits that leak through. I'm on a Wardruna kick at the moment. Yeah. I know there are voices, but I don't speak the language they're speaking. It works and I don't question.

I'm  going through a process of giving myself permission to need what I need. Even if it makes me a diva. I've had to give up any notion that I should be able to write the way other people write - either in word count or in when and where I *should* be able to write. Rather than trying to guilt myself into 'write anywhere, any time' I've tried making space for being weird. Embracing that has finally fixed the long-standing impression that I'm broken somehow. And hey. Words are happening again.

I'll take it.

Noodling Newsletters

 Full disclosure: Having a difficult mental health day. So if this comes across as defeatist and maudlin, it probably is. There's a chance this is a side effect of a new migraine medication. Or it's just -- [waves hand around.] I'm frankly not sure how I'm supposed to know the difference, which is full on annoying.

Anyway. Newsletters. I subscribe to a few. Mostly friends. Aaaaand like others have already said, I don't read them. My time and attention are so fragmented. I cannot imagine that anyone else in this post modern apocalypse is any different. We have to pick where our shards of time are spent. If I have a few random seconds, I'd rather read your book. Not your newsletter. I'd rather write. I'd rather pet a cat. I'd rather plant flowers.

I do have a newsletter. After a fashion. I rarely send one out. My issue is that writing is already enough like screaming into the void that I don't need to add a newsletter to that mix. I realize that it's my life, so of course it's boring to me. But there's nothing in my life or in my writing process that is worth conveying to others on a monthly basis. My life is no different from anyone else's life. We're all doing the best we can. Yes, I could use it as a promotional tool. Could do. And honestly, that is about the only time I ship a newsletter. When I have something to promote. But a regularly scheduled product? Not currently my cup. I'd like it to be different. I'd like to be a different writer than I am. The best thing I could think to do with a newsletter would be to put outtake scenes or short-short stories in - make it some kind of value add. I could see doing that and hoping that readers would enjoy that. It would require a different life than the one I have, however. Because right now, about all I could offer would be a chronic daily migraine support newsletter with medication efficacy experiences, relief product reviews, and cautions for migraineurs that noise cancelling headphones are likely to set off an attack (but not if you turn off the noise cancellation.) And of course I could talk about cats. Endlessly. I just don't think there's much overlap between those audiences and the SFR audience. Some, sure. And maybe I'd convert one or two. But really, I'd rather just write stories and let those do the conversion. That's the goal, isn't it. Let the stories we love bring in people who might love them, too.

What Dreams May Come

Corvid, the Void Boi, wants you to know that his human mom doesn't need to cultivate purposeful day dreams. She has him and he's a weirdo. 

Day dreaming. It's therapeutic and completely necessary for artists of all kinds. Yet we live in a culture that flings all kinds of accusations about laziness, worthlessness, and 'wasted' time. Add modern technology into the mix and most people over twelve have precious little time for the 'silliness' of day dreaming. 

In an attempt to reclaim some brain space, time, and day dreaming, I'm working my way through a book called Bored and Brilliant by Manoush Zomorodi. It's a treatise on how our devices have stolen away the free time our brains once filled with day dreams and with synthesizing our experiences. 

It's also a useful walk through the brain science that explains why we need wandering minds and 'useless' day dreaming. 

So yes. Day dreaming - the fun, the terrible, the startling. Bring it all on. It's necessary. It's enlivening. Certainly, creativity and stories are built on the foundation of day dreaming.

The interesting piece is that with migraine, you get hallucinations. Not every time. But it seems to be a feature. Hallucinations are the feral cousins of day dreaming. Day dreams can be directed. Hallucinations can't. Yet they're useful, too. Some of the grimmest of my scenes came straight out of migraine hallucination. To be clear, tho, I'd flat give them up if I could exorcise the migraines. There are other ways to get into the altered states required to bring up vision, if not hallucination. I'd take it if I could get it. Until then, day dreams are welcome companions. Hallucinations, well. They show up, welcome or not, and stay until they're good and ready to leave.
 

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.