Creative Recovery

Susan here, fresh from revising and updating a backlist Scottish Victorian trilogy to be reissued this year (Book 1, Laird of Storms, is out now!). Editing backlist means cleaning up typos (somehow they -always- exist, no matter how carefully the author, editor, and copyeditor crawl through the text), and tightening language (my earlier books are wordy…) while crafting a cleaner, faster-paced read without changing the story. The new covers are gorgeous, and I’m looking forward to offering these new editions. I’m also writing new stuff —  I just finished a novella for publication later this year, and I’m starting a new novel. It’s a juggling act to work on more than one book, leaping from one story to the next while keeping all the plates spinning. It’s a good challenge as challenges go, but the writer’s brain needs a break and a chance to fill the creative well.

It takes stamina to write long hours while juggling life demands and family needs. I can (and often do) burn the candle at both ends and in the middle and just slog on and on. But without some recovery between projects, ultimately it’s not good for the author or the stories either.

My candle burns at both ends
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends
It gives a lovely light.
~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

Tolkein once remarked that readers want to enjoy the soup without seeing the bones that went into making it. That’s process vs. story, and it’s very true. Over the years, I’ve found some habits and methods that help the bones and spark the story – supporting the overworked brain, and sparking the creative urge. Stirring the story soup that Tolkein talked about involves more than research, plotting, writing, revising. After a while, we need the fuel of ideas and inspiration. A vacation is an obvious solution, but when that’s not in the cards, what else can be done?

Everyone has different solutions, and here are a few of mine.

The first urge in my own creative recovery is to clean the home office, the desk, the stacks of books on the floor, the basket of paper to recycle–and if needed, the whole house after that, depending on how intense the deadline gallop was, and how busy the family has been. It’s therapeutic to create order out of chaos. It helps me get back to clear thinking and new ideas, and helps me move past the last project. I’m fine with a good bit of disorder, it doesn’t bother me much, and I freely admit I’m a messy writer. So the neatness doesn’t last long in the writing office, but it’s nice for a while.

Once I can see the top of my desk again, I want the freedom of going out to shop, spend hours in a bookstore, have lunch or brunch with friends, or take a local trip for a day or two. Low-key activities are restorative. A glorious glut of reading is high on the book-recovery wish list, too. Catching up with the teetering book pile is important, and I don’t read much in my own genre or areas of interest, outside of research, while I’m writing in that area. Besides books, there are always movies and shows to catch up on as well.

Goofing off is not just a fun break, it can be physiologically and psychologically therapeutic. Doing something visual and auditory like TV and movies, which engage a different part of the brain than writing on paper or onscreen helps brain health by balancing out the ways it’s asked to work.

I also feel an urge to create something physical and three-dimensional after so much 2D activity on the screen and the page. That’s when I start moving furniture around or decide to paint a room–or head out to weed the garden, which probably needs it depending on the season. Tasks with a clear beginning, middle, and end lead to a quick result and a new perspective.

There is something I love about being up on a ladder and rolling fresh paint on the walls. I do it myself, don’t hire out if I can help it, and throw family members out too (though the tall ones are very handy). The next new story will inevitably start to bubble while I’m up on that ladder. Right now, I know just which room I’m going to paint, and I’m itching to get to it.

I’ll also revisit some regular activities that keep me balanced, sane, and on task whether I’m writing or not. such as tai chi, qigong, walking, and knitting or crochet. I’m a certified qigong instructor (with no time to teach it), so it’s a regular go-to practice. As for knitting and crochet, I stick to the basics and don’t let it get too complicated. I like a soothing, mindless level. I generate a lot of scarves!

When I make time for some of these things, I will write better and I’ll be easier to live with. My Muse is happiest and most productive when I make time for brief breaks. I’m a little off the norm, maybe, in that I don’t love a lot of travel and time away. The little tasks work well for me. Longer vacations are wonderful but can be more stressful than relaxing. Last year I went on an extended trip to Scotland, which was fantastic. I got a lot out of it on many levels. By the time I got home I was sick and so wiped out that recovery from the vacay took almost as long as the trip. But the experience, the memories, the photos, and tchotchkes were wonderful, and we’re looking into another trip soon. Maybe not as long, and we’ll do more little things than big things.

In the final phase of my creative recovery—once the stories and characters start simmering in my imagination—I get new notebooks and pens ( love that stuff!) and whatever else will inspire and support the next effort—and then I’m writing again!

I’m sure you have some great ways to quickly rest and recuperate before you get back to doing what you love best. What works for you?