There are times when I feel as if I’m somewhat of a veteran writer. I look at my backlist and numerous publishers, and think I’ve experienced a lot. I write in a variety of genres and lengths. I’ve had three agents and several editors. Haven’t I done just about everything?

Then there are the times when I realize I don’t know much at all. Times when a new experience hits me right between the eyes and I understand that there are facets of this business I haven’t seen yet. Things you can’t prepare for. Things you see coming but you can’t avoid them, even when you try.

For me, the hurdle I tried to leap but tripped over is what writers call “burn out.” It doesn’t happen overnight, but if you keep dipping the quill and not refilling the well… Well, it happens. Maybe not for everyone, but it happened to me. I’ve been dealing with it for a year and a half now. Seems like a long time, doesn’t it? It does to me. But contractually, I couldn’t take any time off. I continued to write.

Oddly enough, I think the books I’ve written while “burned out” are my best work yet. So, what’s the complaint?

Writing is a lot more of a struggle than it used to be. Every day, it became harder and harder to write effectively, and I accomplished less and less. Dehydration. Slow and steady, the pool of creativity grows shallower until it’s completely gone. The joy of writing follows suit and then it’s just torture.

I tried pushing through it. I tried talking to friends about it. I tried approaching it like an obstacle and maneuvering around it. All of that was exhausting and didn’t get me anywhere. Finally, I gave myself permission to stop doing anything. It wasn’t easy. People were disappointed and/or angry. My family budget tightened. I felt guilty for giving myself a break. I felt defensive when prodded by well-meaning friends, as if it was even possible for me to do anything other than rest. (Seriously, there are only so many months that you can try to write and get nowhere before you realize the effort is futile. When the well is dry, stabbing your quill into it only hurts your hand and breaks the nub.)

I knew I was in trouble when I looked into the future without a driving urge to keep my release schedule hopping. I even entertained the thought of never writing again and was strangely okay with that. I just wanted a break. Whatever it took. (Which speaks to how burned out I was. Writers can’t quit forever. That’s like holding your breath until you die.)

Here’s where my inexperience came into play. There was still part of me (the little devil on my shoulder perhaps) that said I was going about the whole “dry well, burn out” scenario wrong. I chastised myself:

• Writers only get burned out only when they seriously f*ed up somewhere, so suck it up and drive on.
• Screw the whiny pity party and get to work.
• This is a business. You don’t have the luxury of waiting for a muse.

Jack London said you can’t wait for inspiration to strike, you have to go after it with a club. Definitely Mr. London knew more than I do.

Then I ran across a post by Neil Gaiman. (Don’t you love when the timing is perfect?) Whatever experience I think I’ve got, Mr. Gaiman has gazillions more of it. And he says:

• Writers and artists aren’t machines.
• I would rather read a good book, from a contented author. I don’t really care what it takes to produce that.
• Some writers need a while to charge their batteries, and then write their books very rapidly. Some writers write a page or so every day, rain or shine. Some writers run out of steam, and need to do whatever it is they happen to do until they’re ready to write again.
• And sometimes, and it’s as true of authors as it is of readers, you have a life.

(There are more gems in the post. I hope you’ll go read it.)

This is a new experience for me — the dry well, the acknowledgment of the burn out, and the acceptance of my individual process to get back to a creative frame of mind. Neil talks about being “young, driven, a borderline workaholic, and very fortunate” and I know that’s been true of me as well. (I have three single titles releasing in June!) But things change. Maybe I’m not so young (in mind and/or body). Maybe I’m less driven. Maybe I ran out of luck. If so, I might be evolving into a new creative process that involves a slower pace and more downtime. Maybe it’s temporary and after awhile, I’ll be recharged and tearing off again. I don’t know. I’m inexperienced in this regard. But someone with experience says there are lots of ways and my way isn’t the wrong way. Makes me feel much better knowing that.

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