Burnout-proofing your creativity
3 approaches to protecting your creative life/self
Last year, I wrote a book I loved. I dove deep into a particular subject, spending hours of my writing time in research. I went through four drafts of the manuscript before I gave it to a beta reader. A few months ago, I started the very (VERY) slow process of querying it.
The writing road is long, and if you’re someone still seeking publication, the milestones along the way can be few and far between. Finishing another novel, perhaps letting someone else read some of it, maybe deciding this one is the next one you’ll query. Then starting the next one. And the next, and so on.
But here’s the thing — even though I put everything I had into this last novel, and the uphill query process is wearying, I don’t feel burned out. No, I’m not bursting with so much creativity that another novel is already spilling onto new pages, but I’m playing around with the next idea. I’m able to show up for my creativity and enjoy the time I can spend imagining a new world.
Looking back over the last year and a half when my novel went from being “an Idea I wish someone else would write so I could have the fun of reading it” to being a real manuscript saved in my OneDrive and (while still far from perfect) able to hold a beta reader’s attention, I see the ways I protected my creativity — and continue to do so, as I keep trucking along with my queries.
1. Space
I gave myself plenty of time with my story. I didn’t set word count goals or tell myself I wanted to finish the novel by a certain date. Whenever I had two hours or an hour or just 15 minutes to focus on my idea, I pretended I had all the time in the world to explore, to imagine, and to get down as many words as felt right.
For most of the time when I was writing this novel, I was still working at an office, and I ended up doing a lot of “writing” during my 2 hours of commuting. I put on Spotify playlists that inspired me, or I spent the time daydreaming in silence, waiting for my characters to talk to me. The goal wasn’t “500 words today” or “X chapters by this date” — it was simply to spend time with my story.
2. Small goals
As I forge ahead with the query process and begin messing around with a new idea while expecting a Big Change in my life later this summer, I’m protecting my future creative self by outlining small, doable goals. I know it won’t be easy to come back to creative work, and the last thing I want to give my tired self is a terrifyingly blank page.
So I’m setting up two paths that will make the next step accessible when I only have a little time to work on something creative:
I made a large spreadsheet with viable literary agents to query so I can work through it slowly, instead of making myself research new agents from scratch every time.
I’m giving my future self small, easy ways to stay in touch with my new story idea. For me right now, this means things like having a notebook dedicated to jotting down thoughts about the characters and OneDrive folders of inspiration for the topic(s); working through a book on writing craft that’s specific and helpful for the ways I want to improve my writing with the next novel; and stocking my nightstand with a few want-to-read titles that I hope will spark my story process.
That’s it. These goals aren’t time-defined or big or complicated. They’re ways I can stay in touch with the writing process, whether I have an hour or only 15 minutes to focus.
3. Shelter
Burnout can come within, from pushing yourself and not taking the time to rest and refuel and refill. But I think it comes from the outside, too. There is so much noise around us. Unlimited podcasts with experts that we could be listening to, countless social media and blog posts from other creatives that could be helpful, advice from well-meaning friends and relatives and internet strangers.
I build my creative “shelter” in two ways: by letting myself stay quiet about the next idea, and by carefully vetting the voices I let into my mind and heart.
I know not every writer does this, but I have to protect my creative self by not telling anyone my story until I’ve written “the end” on a new manuscript. I need that privacy to be alone with new ideas, and I can’t let other voices in during such a delicate time in the creative process.
Building a shelter around my creativity also means tuning out the external noise. The world of Stuff™ available to view or stream or scroll or consume would love to distract us until we get to the end of our lives without ever achieving our big goals. I realized some time ago that I could write, or I could be active on Twitter, but I couldn’t do both. I could have alcohol regularly, and I could watch a lot of TV, and I could always be listening to something … or I can write. I can’t do both. I have to protect my creative self by barely existing on social media. I have to protect my creative self by only letting in a few kind voices that inspire, not discourage.
Here’s the bad news about my approach to burnout protection: These three practices need to be built into your daily creative life. They can’t be pulled in at the last minute when you’re approaching a season of Big Change, and they won’t work if you try them for a day and then put them aside.
I can’t promise that your creativity will thrive on them in the exact same way mine does, but I know that gentle, steady, daily habits will take you far.
As always, thanks for reading — and thanks for welcoming this newsletter no matter when it arrives in your inbox! (Maybe July’s newsletter will be on time, maybe?) I hope you’re having a wonderful summer, creative and otherwise.