It takes more than a thimble to refill the well.

Everyone’s hit it, 

though some deny it, 

and once you’ve been bit, 

you won’t care a wit.

I saw it in corporate healthcare and I see it in my fellow creatives: BURNOUT. 

Burnout became the it word a few years ago and then quickly following came self-care. I saw it in corporate healthcare and I see it in creatives. No matter who’s experiencing it, it’s a hard thing to climb out of. Even for those of us who know what we have to do.

That thimble thing I put in the title? That’s real life right there. I’ve been through burnout that was compounded by my chronic illness. And I climbed out. It took a lot longer than I wanted it to, though now I know a few things NOT to do. 

I’ve done the relaxing. Check. But as Jeffe pointed out on Sunday, you can’t relax when you’re multitasking. Uncheck. 

Google burnout and you’ll find suggestions to read. Reading! Yay, my favorite pastime! Check. But, what do you do when your body is out of whack and you’re depressed? Depression robs the joy from the even the simplest things. Uncheck. 

Then, how about unplugging? Check. 

I’m not going to uncheck that one because I’ve learned that what I need when I’m at the bottom is to seriously unplug. When my well is bone-dry, I need to walk away from all the voices and opinions floating around the social. If I’m going to have a chance at a bucket, or even a cup, rather than a thimble…I need to get out where I can breathe and the only voice I hear is in the wind. 

To my fellow chronic disease sufferers, I know there are days where getting outside in the fresh air is insurmountable. I’m blessed to have a furry companion that pushes me, but there are still days it doesn’t happen. And that’s okay. If I beat myself up over it I’m going the wrong way. But, if I let it happen and just breathe, then I’ll get out the next day.

That’s how I start, by filling a thimble. I find some snow, or sunshine, or raindrops splashing into a puddle to stare at. And before I know it I’m listening to the birds and imagining what they’d be saying if there were fae walking beneath the branches.

Maybe this is why writing fantasy, in which there are always powerful trees, seems to come from my soul whereas writing science fiction is all brain-power entertainment. 

That’s how I keep going and how my thimble amount grows into a cup and then a bucket. Nothing fancy and it’s often frustrating and humbling, but that’s how life is. So, dear reader, how do you bounce back when your emotional/mental/physical well is empty? 

When the well is too deep to fill

As writers, we talk a lot about refilling the well, and I bet some folks are going to give lots of excellent suggestions here on SFF Seven for doing just that. (Hint: Some already have. Go back and read their posts, which are excellent. Go on. I'll wait. ... Done? Good.) Other creatives also share this need to cycle, to lean into the work for a time and then take a step back, breathe, and refocus. Zone out. Soak in.

But... what if when you look down at that deep, empty well, you see that it has no bottom? And no matter what you toss into it, it has never and will never fill up enough for you to even notice. That might be the moment when the panic sets in, because right then, looking over the lip of the well, you can feel pressure behind you, a monster named deadline and goals and sales and dreams and expectations, and nothing would bring that monster more joy than to push you in.

This is what writing was like before I realized I was depressed.

I'd do all those things that were supposed to clear my mind, and boy would they clear my mind. I'd go full zombie, walking around like I wasn't even conscious, wasn't even living, so zoned out I no longer cared about anything and mostly just wanted to sleep.

For a depressed person, reading and watching TV and taking long walks are too much. Too much effort, too much self-indulgence. My well had no bottom, and it just kept eating whatever I tossed into it.

Medication and therapy have helped me get a handle on my bleak brain, but I'm still coming to terms with that metaphorical well. I find I don't enjoy reading as much as I used to, so even sitting in a bubble bath with a book isn't exactly relaxing. Reading fiction becomes work--deconstructing the story, trying to suss out why readers adored this book as much as they did, feeling hopeless that I could ever do what that author did. Walks and music help a little. Reading nonfiction sometimes sparks an idea or a desire to turn fact into speculative froth.

But you know what works more than anything, what makes me want to write all the words ever worded?

Writing the first one.

Like, literally sitting down and writing one word, and then another. One baby step at a time. The first one is the hardest, and then they start spilling in faster and faster, filling up a page, a story, a void.

A well.

When You've Got Plenty O' [Creative] Nuttin'

Happy 2020, Dear Readers!

Did you write down your Determinations for the year? Do any of them involve creative pursuits? Are you staring at the beginning, wondering if your abundant creativity went the way of 2019?

It happens to all of us! As professional authors, we often find ourselves feeling like we've drained the creative well. Each of us has our own way of refilling it. Jeffe's great suggestions kicked off the week, and each of your friendly SFF Seven bloggers will offer their ways of gettin' their giggity back.

Me? I binge watch TV and read/whittle down my TBR pile, particularly genres from which I drift away while I'm writing. When I'm writing, I exist in the bubble of my fictional world, so when that bubble bursts...it's a blessing.

Bonus that I discovered over the winter holiday: my eldest nibling has reached the tweenage years (that's no kindness, my sister assures me) and said nibling has developed a keen interest in animae. I hate to admit, it's been decades a few years since I let my animae addiction run wild, but now that I have a young whippersnapper to make recommendations, I'm fluffing the pillows, grabbing the snuggy, and settling in for a winter binge-fest.

Bring on the weird! I need a creativity refill!

Emergency Refilling of the Well

For a lot of us - especially Romance writers - the stress of the last few weeks has been at best distracting and at worst devastating. That kind of emotional stress, on top of the holiday season, which can be emotionally draining for many people, can leave us with empty wells. So what do you do when you need to be creative, but the well is dry?

In other words, how do you even when you can't even?

Our quite timely topic at the SFF Seven this week (thanks to KA Krantz for creating the new topic calendar!) is "Refilling the well – what do you do to nourish your creative self, long term and in an emergency?"

Just Don't.

When you can't even, not trying to is a great option.

I'm always amused when self-care articles include taking a hot bath. Doesn't it seem like EVERY SINGLE ONE DOES??? And yet, the theory behind this is what counts. In the bathtub we are typically alone - usually you can even lock the door and there's the whole bathroom = privacy thing - and so we get expectation-free time. We can nap, read, count the tiles - I have one friend who has a TV over her tub where she watches Downton Abbey - or simply stare into space.

The point is taking time to do "nothing" is great for refilling the well. We're geared that way. So whether it's yoga (which allows thinking to bleed away), meditating (like yoga that way), tile-counting (a kind of meditation), taking a long walk (same), or whatever allows your mind to go blank, do that thing.

Read, Watch Movies, Listen to Music, Look at Art - One at a Time

When was the last time you listened to music and did *nothing* else? What's the longest time recently that you've read without stopping to do something else, like check your phone or the time? When you watch movies or binge a show, do you also check Twitter or do some sort of other task simultaneously? Try doing just the one thing and nothing else. If you are happier doing something with your hands, mindless tasks like knitting or needlework don't count as distractions. Just try practicing doing only one thing. I remember being a teenager and lying there just listening to an entire album. The closest I've come since is when I'm driving.

Studies have shown that when we multitask, we're actually rapidly switching our attention from one thing to the next, which is draining. It's not good for our mental health. So consume that favorite media - and do ONLY that. Going to a movie in a movie theater can be great for that, as you *can't* do anything else but watch the movie. (Seriously, you shouldn't be looking at your phone - it lights up and annoys everyone else.)

I'm lucky enough to live in a place with a vibrant art scene. Walking around galleries and looking at art is something that makes it difficult for me to multitask - especially if I keep my phone in my bag! - and it fills my personal creative well. Museums are great for this, too, or even art books with wonderful paintings and photographs.

Unplug

It's okay to walk away from the Internet. The FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) can be strong, but time away can really help to cool the fires of urgency. In many ways, social media has become like the 24/7 news shows - after about thirty minutes, everything has been said and goes on repeat. It's almost impossible these days to really miss out on anything because someone is always out there ready to rehash and analyze. Go unplug. This comes back to the Just Don't. Go to a lake with no cell service, or take a walk and leave your phone behind. Set aside one day a week where you don't turn on the computer and you turn off your data plan.

These are all great for long-term maintenance, and all things that I do. But what about in an emergency, when things hit a crisis point?

I do these things too, just more consciously. I make myself turn things off and I walk away. Looking at pretty pictures or nature goes a long way toward grounding myself again.

But if you all have suggestions for emergency well-refilling/stress chilling, I'd love to hear suggestions!

Top 3 Things on My Mind This Week

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The topic this week is open, which usually means we should discuss what’s been on our minds lately.

I have a variety of things on my mind, not all of them related to writing.

The current situation in the Middle East…

The terrible fires in Australia…as a Southern Californian with my own experiences regarding wildfires, including once being trapped on the freeway with fire all around, I feel so much sympathy and empathy. The sheer scale of what’s going on there is terrifying and nearly impossible to comprehend. One scientist called it an “ecological Armageddon” in the NY Times. I hope the world starts to really understand what global warming means for civilization and for the animals sharing the planet with us and takes more action than lip service. 

New York Times Best Selling Author author Kylie Scott, who is Australian, provided a list of resources for those who want to help in her tweet stream. Follow her in twitter and/or here’s the link to the tweet thread: https://twitter.com/KylieScottbooks/status/1213252322874126336 OR here are two of her recommendations:  To help with the relief and recovery efforts made possible by the  @redcrossau

https://redcross.org.au To help wildlife victims from the fires, donate to WIRES: https://wires.org.au/donate/now⠀

My heart goes out to all my friends, fellow authors, readers and everyone else in Australia in this terrible time. And to the helpless wildlife (and domestic animals lost) in the path of these fires.⠀

As a general remark, I firmly believe we have to stop denying climate change and start taking drastic measures now if we don’t want to be part of the next mass extinction event.

And third, this tragic and infuriating situation going on with the Romance Writers of America is very much on my mind, though obviously it’s on a smaller scale than either of the first two. But in some ways, romance is my world. As a CIS-het presenting white woman, I’m trying to be an ally to the AOC and LGBTQIA communities.

I withdrew my two books from the RITA’s. I wasn’t signed up to judge this year but if I had been, I would have withdrawn. Until the larger issues facing the organization are faced up to and resolved, I see no point or purpose in supporting a contest. Set the contest aside. There are HUGE, fundamental organizational problems to be addressed and dealt with. I think the way the current Board and especially the President are conducting themselves and treating the entire membership is appalling, insulting and reprehensible. The Staff has to come in for scrutiny here as well, given some of the reports I’ve read from other members.

I can’t believe the self-inflicted damage the current RWA leadership has levied on the organization.

(For an excellent and pretty exhaustive timeline of the RWA events, go here. Author Claire Ryan is doing her best to pull all the events together in a readable format, with links to tweets and letters and etc. I applaud and appreciate her efforts.)

I’ve been heartened to see the statements from authors such as Nora Roberts, Jill Shalvis and J. R. Ward. I’ve been happy to see the growing national news coverage of this has in general been what I consider to be fair. I appreciate the efforts being made by many individuals to get RWA through this catastrophe and survive. I want to be supportive in whatever ways I can be.

If RWA can be saved at all. The situation has become so toxic I think the outcome is in serious doubt.

I appreciate the leadership of my local Chapter and my online Chapter speaking out and calling for change, audits and self-examination, and reaffirming their commitment to diversity, equity and inclusion. Leaving my Chapters would be the hardest thing about letting my RWA membership lapse.

I honor the commitment and passion of members leading the efforts to cope with this latest travesty and to salvage the organization for the future…but it honestly may be too late. The reputation of the RWA is deep in the muck and mud and deservedly so.

I’m only retaining my membership at this point so I can be an ally and cast my vote in support of those trying to drag the RWA back from the cliff it seems determined to die on.

So somewhere in all these turbulent times I’m still trying to write LANDON, my next science fiction romance novel and tell a positive tale of the interstellar future and a Happy For Now ending (because this book is part of a series and there’s a lot still to happen in later books). It’s been a challenge this week to detach from the real world problems large and small.

Hang on to your hats – clearly 2020 is going to be a wild ride!

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RWA and the Diversity (Maybe) Apocalypse

Like Jeffe, my brain has been largely consumed by the conflict, hurt, and brokenness that appears to be the much-loved national organization of romance writers - and org I *thought* was actually committed to diversity and inclusion.

The past weeks have disabused a lot of people of that notion. Stay away from the Facebook page. I'm told it's a cesspool of people celebrating the fact that a huge number of marginalized authors no longer feel safe and have left RWA. It's bad. The moniker being tossed around online is no longer 'Romance Writers of America'. It's 'Racist Writers of America'. That's hard to swallow. Really hard. And I hate it. I hate that people who've felt ignored and hurt for so long have suffered, for them, what amounts to a mortal blow. All that work. All that trust. Shattered. Jeffe offers up good timeline tweets that sum up the issues, though as you pick a hashtag to dig into, you'll find the pool of gross goes much deeper.

So now what?

What's a neuro-atypical, CIS het-presenting white woman like me gonna do with that? Whelp. I figure it this way. White women made this mess. I'm here to be on the clean up crew. I can stare my privilege straight in the eye and use it as a crow bar. If boards need voting in or out to muck the most egregious offenses and offenders out of the organization, I'm good with it. Author Keri Stevens is doing a group read of White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo on Twitter (it's her pinned post on her profile - find it here.) I'm joining in on that so I can dig into the dark places in my own psyche where unexamined attitudes and behaviors may need eviction.

It's a new year. We most of us contemplate how to become better humans at this time of year. This is my first step. Get after cleaning up this mess, if it's possible. We've seen it happen. SFWA's been through this before us. As John Scalzi (I was gonna link you to the tweet, but you know, this dude is a riot so if you aren't already following him, for shame. Fix that.) so rightly pointed out, the way forward was to kick out the racists. Which is the exact opposite of what RWA has done. So. We'll see. The work will be hard. It may fail. I only know I have to be here to try.

What’s on my mind? Resisting the dark side.

“Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. 

Anger leads to hate. 

Hate leads to suffering.” 

~Yoda

There’s always a certain level of fear present when you live with a chronic disease. There will always be days when pain, fatigue, or any number of other symptoms become debilitating. And there will always be some bad days that make you angry, make you want to lash out, make you hate. 

But, as Yoda said, the fear, anger, and hate are all a path to the dark side and they can steal your joy and ability to create. If I can’t concentrate and my energy is zapped, writing doesn’t happen. It’s frustrating, but it’s incredibly frustrating when the lack of writing is because I let myself get stuck on negativity.

Which means I face a daily choice; choose to find happiness and offer kindness or choose to wallow in pain and anger. A daily choice, walk on the light side…or the dark side. 

Like in Star Wars, it’s a fine line, and one that’s not restricted to people with illnesses. It’s easy to get wrapped up in anger, the RWA crisis is an example of that. While there are valid reasons for anger, I believe that many have forgotten that words are weapons and that we as authors are word Jedi.

I know I can’t make people act a certain way or do certain things. But, as I look ahead at 2020, I know that I can choose kindness and happiness. I can choose the light side. And maybe by adding a few more rays to the universe, I’ll help make the world brighter. 

Oh hello, shiny 2020

Hoh boy. Right now, the decade is winding down and we don’t even know what to call it. The 2010s? But “twenty-tens” sounds silly, and “twenty-teens” sounds mouthy. I’ve personally been calling it the “yeah that happened” decade, but that’s not the greatest name. Poor little unnamed decade. Maybe that’s why you’ve sucked so very, very much.

In true form, the Romance Writers of America — the only professional organization that allows someone of my meager earnings to join — is imploding. Google it. It’s a mess. I have no idea how they’ll crawl out of this, but one thing they managed to do is make the last few breaths of the 2010s (twenty-teens?) all about them. 

Which is maybe what writers do? We make our worlds all about us? Is that what we do? I feel like, if that is the case, I really need to apologize to my small cadre of loyal readers, because I sincerely did not mean to mess up your brain like this. It’s not you, it’s me. 

Which brings me, in a very round-about way, to resolutions. In 2020, what would I like to see or do more of? Well, I hereby resolve the following:

—I will live in the possible. The future is iffy, the past sucks, and the present is problematic at best. But the possible? That still does and always will hold magic. The blank page, the star-eyed baby, the first step on the path, the first note of a symphony: potentiality is promise is magic. I believe.

—I will go to church. Not, um, a building with some dude in a dress talking at me. I mean my church. The church of words. See, my therapist recently decoded something crucial in my brain and explained that writing, to me, is church. It is the thing that gives shape to my spirit. I suspect this is the case with a lot of writers. So hey, if that’s you also—or if your church is art of performance or knitting or gardening or horses — get your booty to church. Do the thing that makes you real. You don’t have to share any of it for the magic to happen. Just do the thing.

—I will but less. So, a lot of times in 2019 (and 2018, if we’re honest), I found myself saying some variation of, “Yes, that’s wonderful, but…” But, I’m old. But, I’m fat. But, I have no skills. But, my writing career has devolved into something heartbreaking. But I’m tired. But. But but. But stop. I mean, what would the world look like if I never used the word “but”? “Yes that’s wonderful.” “Yes, I wrote some books I’m proud of.” “Yes, some folks even liked them, they were reviewed well, they won awards.” “Yes, I can still see.” “Yes, I can still think.” “Yes, I can still write stories.” So, hey, self: no buts.   

—I will cut me some slack. If my kids do stuff that negatively impacts their future? I will not take the blame. If readers don’t want to partake of my latest fictional offering? I will not consider it judgment of my talent or potential. I will instead think of it as just, hey, that’s the world eh. If my jeans look fluffy or my face looks wrinkly or I don’t do whatever the thing is on time and to everyone else’s satisfaction.. well. I will say sorry. I will endeavor to do better. And then I will pick my big-girl self up and just keep living. People make mistakes. I will make mistakes. Mistakes are not the end of the world.

— I will love more. I mean, right now, it feels like I could not possibly love more — my kids, my partner, my family, my home town, my pets, my friends, my mom, my writing tribe, the people in RWA whose whole social and professional universe is fracturing, the people in Australia who are suffering through wildfires (again: google it). But the fact is that there is no limit on love. I can always love more. And what would that feel like? My God, it would be awesome.

So, okay, writers, I see a bright, shiny 2020 heading straight for us, and it doesn't deserve all our baggage. It is bright and beautiful. So hit me with all your resolutions. I will not say but. I will believe. Promise.

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