Rediscovering My Connection To Writing

A few days ago I was reading the wonderful website Writers in the Storm and I came across this post about the writing resolution that changed the writer’s attitude and ultimately changed her writing career. I nodded a lot as I read the piece because, although the specifics of my situation were different, I understood that loss of connection with writing. I also know what it means to find it again.

Ebb and flow is something we have to make peace with because it’s part of the artist’s life, whether our art is writing, music, dancing, painting, acting, or anything else. Most of the time, we can balance the not-so-good times with the better times, and somehow we keep going.

I Was Done Writing Forever (I Thought)

There are times, though, when the not-so-good can weigh us down, drown us, even. Between the years 2006 and 2009, I had finally gone under and I decided that I was giving up writing for good.

That was my intention, at least—to never write anything other than a grocery list again.

I Began Writing For the Love of It

I started writing seriously, as in writing books that I wanted to have published, in college. My first novel, written when I was 19, was about a rock band. Yes, I know, but I was 19. The book was terrible, but it helped me realize that I did in fact want to be a writer.

First, I was going to be a journalist, then a screenwriter, and then I was back to writing short fiction and novels.

It took me four years to have my first piece published, a short story in a small literary journal. Then I wrote a historical novel. I had a couple of near misses with traditional publishers (and one run-in with a particularly unprofessional agent) but nothing panned out despite my highfalutin dreams.

Then I wrote a second historical novel, and a third historical novel, still with no publishing deals to show for it. Mind, this was before the indie author revolution and traditional publishing was my only hope for getting my beloved stories out into the world.

I Lost My Motivation To Write

By 2006, I had written four novels, two screenplays, a number of short stories, and several articles, to some success. I had a few articles and short stories published, but I was stuck. I didn’t know what to write next. I didn’t have another novel in me at that time.

First of all, I had no ideas, and second of all, I felt like it didn’t matter because whatever I write no one is going to read it anyway. I had an idea to turn one of my short stories into a screenplay, but I wasn’t motivated to get past page two.

During this time I saw Jacqueline Woodson, the brilliant writer of books for children and adults such as Brown Girl Dreaming, Hush, If You Come Softly, and Miracle’s Boys, when she came to speak at my university. Woodson talked about how she began her writing career thinking that she wanted to be a great “literary” writer.

Finally, though, she found her voice writing for children and young adults, and what a voice she found. She deserves every award and accolade that has come her way. I took Woodson’s ideas to heart. Maybe I too needed to let go of any lofty “literary” ideals.

Despite Woodson’s encouraging words, I still had nothing. At the time I was working as a learning strategist at a middle school. I had my own office, and during my lunch break, I would close my door and brainstorm ideas about what to write next.

I jotted down scraps of screenplays, short stories, novels, plays. Ideas galore. But nothing called to me, I had no motivation to actually write, and I still had this fatalistic feeling that whatever I wrote wouldn’t matter anyway.

Who Needs the Hassle of Writing?

Who needs this hassle, I wondered? I felt like I was punishing myself for a crime I didn’t commit. I decided that I wasn’t going to write anymore. I’m out. Hasta la vista, baby.

I didn’t write anything for three years. Three long years. The main thing I remember about that time was that I was lost. I didn’t know who I was. I felt untethered to the earth, detached from myself. I remember that I was angry a lot.

Most of the time I wasn’t even sure what I was angry about. In retrospect, I should have seen a professional therapist, but I didn’t. This is a lesson in what not to do. If you need to speak to a professional, do it. My heart told me in various ways again, and again, and again, “Hey, stop. You need to listen!”

Occasionally, I had the vague thought that I should write something. Always, I went back to the mantra, “Why bother?” I looked for ways out of my job because I wasn’t happy. I thought of returning to a Hollywood job even though I disliked the work when I was there the first time. I thought of moving to California, to London, to New York, to the moon. Anywhere but here.

You know that saying, wherever you go, there you are? Even if I had moved, it wouldn’t have fixed what was wrong with me. I continued to flap about aimlessly.

Creative Ideas Come When You Least Expect Them

In 2009, I was teaching middle school U.S. history. One day, standing near my classroom door between classes, I saw nearly every girl carrying a black book with an apple on it. I asked one of my students about the book and she told me it was Twilight.

A few weeks later another student handed me the book to read. Reading Twilight prompted me to watch True Blood, which prompted the question, what would happen to a vampire who lost the wife he loves while he lives forever?

See where I’m going with this?

The last thing I was looking for was an idea for a novel, but there it was anyway. Ideas are funny that way. They appear when you least expect them. At first, I didn’t realize it was an idea for a novel. It was just an interesting question about a preternatural man that I kicked around in my head for a few months without writing anything down.

One day, I remember it was April and we were off for Spring Break, I sat down at my computer and started writing out whatever I knew about this vampire and his beloved wife.

To get back to Woodson’s point about discovering her true voice as a writer for young adults, this is was the same journey I had with the story then known as “The Vampire’s Wife.” This vampire story wasn’t going to be a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel. It wasn’t going to be mistaken for literary fiction. This story was genre fiction, paranormal romance, primarily, and I was okay with that. Mainly, I was happy to be writing again.

Sometimes taking time away from whatever it is that’s frustrating us can be a good thing. Distance provides clarity. When I was trying out this writing project and that writing project, frustrated because nothing was sticking, I lost touch with the joy that is writing for me.

I had to find wonder in the process again. As I was writing the book that became Her Dear & Loving Husband, I returned to writing with renewed energy and a hard-won appreciation for the role that writing plays in my life.

That’s what my heart was trying to tell me. I couldn’t stop writing because I am a writer.