Writing when you can't think clearly

Last week I ended my post by saying that this one would go over how to set small goals for your ten-minute writing sessions. But I’ve decided to push that back in favor of something more timely for me personally: What if the thing that’s disrupted your schedule, leaving you without your usual dedicated hours of writing time, is also robbing you of your energy and concentration?

I’ve had to deal with that this week. Last Friday, one of my coworkers passed away suddenly. I didn’t know him well, but his death came as a shock to me and to the rest of my department. As you’d expect, we had his workload to distribute amongst ourselves, which made my schedule a little fuller than it was before. But for me, the biggest drain was mental. I’ve felt fuzzy-headed when I need to be focused, and sometimes when I’m in the flow of an activity that’s absorbing my concentration, memories of what happened will jolt me out of it, and I have to work to get back into whatever I was doing.

That kind of mental fog is very frustrating for writers—and probably for most people. It’s aggravating to know you have a little time to write and yet not be present in your work. And I’ve wished I had a different way of grieving, that I could take up crying or cake-eating and get my brain back. But so far, that doesn’t appear to be the sort of deal I’m psychologically allowed to make. And, as they say, the only way past it is through it.

The most important change I had to make was in what I wanted to accomplish this week. I was going to revise the final chapter of my WIP for my writers’ group, which I probably would have been able to finish in a few days, but now I’m going to wait on that until my mind has cleared a bit. (Sorry, guys, I know you want to know how this whole crazy story gets resolved.) I changed my focus to an earlier chapter that I knew needed a major overhaul. It had felt daunting before, but this past week, it felt nearly impossible. I was overworking and overthinking it, putting energy I didn’t have into a cognitive machine that wasn’t operating efficiently.

So I tried something different. As I did when I had to get my main character into the van (see last week’s post), I decided to think about just one thing. My “just one thing” rule usually leads to something (a) big-picture and (b) related to my main character’s goal. And this time, I realized what I had to do for the chapter: I had to take the events from that and the following chapter and reorganize them to make her more focused on her goal.

And once I was done reordering everything, I had not only gotten back to my writing; I’d also gotten a much-needed break from thinking about my coworker’s death and the impact it’s had on our workplace. The fog hasn’t entirely lifted, but it’s beginning to.

Another thing I’ve noticed that helps, at least for myself, is avoiding the intricate work on details that I like to take up during revision. After the first draft, I’m usually in a good frame of mind to turn a critical eye on my work to improve it, but this week, that has felt overwhelming. But personally, when there’s something really sad going on my life, I find that my creativity can be just as big if I know how to channel it. For me, that means looking at big-picture ideas in my novel. Other writers doubtless have different strengths that come out during these times, but whatever they are, play to your strengths. Don’t make things harder on yourself than they already will be.

Lastly, what’s really helped me is allowing myself some working down time (I know, that’s kind of contradictory, but it’s like a productive form of rest). I’ve been reading Benjamin Percy’s craft book Thrill Me, and when I can’t think well enough to open my WIP, I can still open my notes and jot down ideas I have while reading. This allows me to make progress with my book without demanding more of me than I can currently do.

If you’re in a situation that’s robbing you of more resources than just your time, I recommend listening to your body and your subconscious. What do you need right now? What kind of creative work are you inclined to do today—the kind of work you’d do if you didn’t let guilt force you onto a different track? That’s the thing you need to be doing—for yourself and for your writing.