If you’ve been wondering whether you are alone in feeling like your writing journey is going a little slower (or has come to a full stop), you are definitely not alone.

I spend a lot of time writing, or thinking about writing, or just writing about writing.

Lately though that’s changed. At first I thought I was burned out after three years of 14 hour days. Then as the weeks passed, and the words still didn’t flow, I started to fear my mojo was gone.

Or, maybe I had used up all my words writing my series and my creative “well” had dried up.

But as the pandemic deepened, newsletters from indie authors I subscribe to started to trickle in: Derek Doepker. Kristen Keiffer. Nick Stephenson. Derek Murphy. David Gaughran - each heavyweights in the indie writer’s community.

They wrote how they too were facing the same challenge. And these are experienced, professional authors. People who write every day for a living. Even for them, the fountain of words had turned into a trickle. David even talks about having lost interest in reading fiction, which we all know is serious when a writer doesn’t have the energy to invest in reading.

Which means...

If you’re struggling to write, edit, or just create in general. It’s not you. It’s what’s happened to us and what happened to our world - to all the things that fed our creativity. But it’s going to be okay. More on that in a bit.

At first we thought it would just take a little time to weather the storm as we collectively knuckled down and dealt with the new obstacles our quarantined life created. Some of us wrote on Twitter and Facebook how much we loved having more time to write, but now, almost a year later, we look at our WIPs and wonder what happened to that enthusiasm, because what we thought would happen, didn’t.

The pandemic has changed our world, changed how we create, and massively impacted our sources of inspiration and motivation. No more coffee shop writing, no more write-ins, no more book clubs. No more book shop browsing, author signings, or writer’s conferences. We were isolated. In every way.

Which means we were forced into a kind of stasis. According to the dictionary, stasis is defined as: “a period or state of inactivity or equilibrium”. Great. Also: Sounds familiar.

Of course, we may have had pre-pandemic works we were able to complete, but when we needed the energy to edit or get feedback we found ourselves facing a new obstacle. Ourselves. The pandemic came not only with a deadly virus but a reverse zeitgeist of ennui, a creative itch we couldn’t scratch, and a je ne sais quoi that no amount of Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream could banish.

How to overcome this? As someone who fell deep into the hole of pandemic writer’s angst, I spent a lot of time thinking about this...what has helped me are a few things:

First off: How we frame what’s happened can make or break us. We can look at what’s happened as a loss - of the time we have lost writing; all the experiences we are not having; of the stimulation we are not getting just by being out and mingling with the world. 

On the flip side, this time can be seen as our period of “dormant growth”. Compare it to the winter when the trees become bare only to explode with life in spring. They may look dead, but they are not. They still continue to grow in their quietude until the hard times pass, conserving their energy for better days.

This is our winter, we feel barren but we are not. Absolutely not. The critical issue isn’t creativity, it’s still happening, just very quietly in our subconscious. The critical issue is Motivation.

And we are not motivated because all the things that energized us have been taken away one by one as if they were privileges and not rights. 

So how do we motivate ourselves when each day bleeds into the next and looks exactly the same?

This is where we have to get a little creative (and hey, that’s what we are good at!). A shift in thinking to pivot to ways we can give ourselves the most lift and feel good.

Here’s a few ideas I have tried (and liked)...maybe you will like them too...

Connect with other writers, digitally, or via video or zoom calls. Even if others don’t have the energy to give you feedback on your writing, just connect. Or talk about what you’re watching on Netflix. Share your story ideas. Listen to theirs. Sometimes just talking can give you new ideas. Simply note them down. Let them rest. Don’t push yourself. Cherish every gem you uncover and save it for later for when you feel motivated again (and you will, I promise).

Walk. Lose yourself in the here and now and just soak it all up. Notice the weirdness of our world, and how we are all living in a reality we could never have imagined 18 months ago. This is the stuff of fiction, and we are living it in real time. They say to write what you know. Well, this is pretty good material if you want to write dystopian fiction. Probably the best material you’ll ever get. Go get it, tigers.

Have faith the writing will come but for now just saturate yourself in being. Notice the things you usually wouldn’t, make a mental note of it, or even better, treat yourself to a Moleskine notebook and note it down (so Ernest Hemingway). I like to write down things people say in films I think are meaningful. Just do whatever works, go with the flow, try new things. Explore outside your comfort zone.

Watch films. Read, if you can.

Just be.

And finally, learn. One of the greatest ways to pass a period of quiet is to improve on what you know. I have taken courses mainly on healing after a difficult divorce, but I also like to learn how to improve my craft. It’s a constant curve. There are always ways to be a better, stronger, and more impactful writer.

And remember...

“Writing is not about inventing life; it’s about reinventing what you have already lived.”

• Rosemary Jenkinson, poet, short story author, nominee EU Prize for Literature

Here’s to your springtime of writing.

Love,

E A