Thirteen Things (some) Writers Need to Remind Themselves of

We all have negative voices in our heads. What they say varies from person to person. In people who are depressed, or anxious, or bipolar, these unwanted thoughts can become part of a downward spiral that drains the joy from everything, including writing.

If you are wondering why you can’t write, which you used to love, and also find yourself uninterested in anything, except sleep, you may need more than writing advice.

Here are a few links:

This is the ADAA, thats the American Depression and Anxiety Association, this is a ‘find treatment’ link.

Psychology Today Index of therapists (My therapist recommended this site.)

If you are a person of faith, be careful about getting treatment for depression based solely on that. Here are some things to look out for. (this link is to a Christian site that might help you figure out what to avoid. In general, I’d say look for someone secular, but that’s me.)

Okay, now that you know you aren’t clinically depressed, you’ll find that your automatic internal voice still says things you know aren’t true about your writing…thing. Career. Avocation. Hobby. Calling. Reason for living. Whatever you call it.

You can talk back to those voices, challenging them with more rational statements, that you will find that you will start believing over time, if you are like most people. Why does this work?

Because brains are stupid. Seriously. This shit sounds so dumb. But it works.

I am not a therapist and this is not therapy, but this practice can work help you shut off the useless self talk.

Thirteen Things I Focus on Now.

1. My writing isn’t me. It is a thing I make, that I can start or stop making and still be me. I can change how I make it and what it is about, and still be me.
2. My publications don’t create my value as a human being. I am the same person whether I ever publish another word or not.
3. Self-directed work isn’t easy. When I choose to do this I exhibit strength of character, because I have no sure knowledge of any external reward. I have done a lot of this work. I am strong. I can keep doing it as long as I find it meaningful. I never have to stop. And I don’t have to continue if it makes me miserable.
4. Other people write more than me. That is okay. That does not diminish my value.
5. Being upset about making money with fiction is unproductive. I may one day make more money with my fiction. I may not. My worth as a human being remains unchanged.
6. I have no control over what happens to a given piece of finished writing, beyond submitting it or publishing it myself and doing standard due diligence. I can’t make others read it, understand it, nominate it, love it, remember it. Once published my piece of writing has a life of its own.
7. If I want to be an indy, I will have to learn a lot about marketing. And keep learning, because indy changes constantly.
8. Every individual rejection or disappointing indy launch is only one data point. Any individual rejection could be pure noise. In some cases, dozens or hundreds of rejections may turn out to be noise. My strategy must look at trends and large amounts of data and not be paralyzed by individual events.
9. The fastest way to collect more data is to finish and submit  or publish more work.
10. Submitting work that isn’t as good as I can make it in a reasonable time frame isn’t a winning strategy. I must find a balance between speed and quality I can live with.
11. Books that break and mix genres and defy norms and reader expectations can be successful, but this doesn’t happen often. When it does, it’s magical. This is how new genres are born. But it’s an uphill battle.
12. Writing what you love is a good way to find energy, but…
13. Other people may not love what I love. This doesn’t diminish them or me. Not all writing is for all people.