Sometimes there aren’t any easy answers. Especially not for authors — be they trad pub, or indie — who are balancing their writing against other commitments. Could be going back to school, or marriage and family, perhaps church and community, or the job (non-writing) that pays the mortgage? It doesn’t matter. Unless you’re independently wealthy, you’re very probably running into problems with delegation, time management, prioritization, crisis resolution, and finding enough hours in your schedule for decompression.
The latter can be especially tricky, if you’re like me, and you have a difficult time compartmentalizing. One thing bleeds into the others, and vice versa, thus it becomes increasingly difficult (over time) to just back off, and step away.
All on my own, I struggle when it comes to adjusting headspace.
As I commented to Sarah A. Hoyt recently, sometimes it’s as simple as my wife tugging me out of the house, putting us both into the car, then driving us to get some food, after which we find a quiet spot to park, eat, and talk. Maybe, for hours? Not at home, where there are a hundred different chores that demand attention. Just . . . off on the side. A stolen moment of time. To unload. Work something out. Maybe have that overdue (but potentially contentious) straight talk session, that you can’t really do in front of the kids? The business of taking care of business, so to speak.
Almost never does it involve anything to do with writing. But that’s part of the adjustment. The action of having your mind and your heart dragged away from the keyboard, and the manuscript, long enough to get your gears whirring along a different track entirely. So that when you eventually return to the project(s) at hand, you discover you’re staring at the pages with fresh eyes.
Now, in my experience, this kind of thing isn’t always romance novel material. A good, proper headspace adjustment can occasionally come with four-lettered words — both ways — and no small amount of gesticulating. But at the end of it all, common understanding has been achieved. New agreements forged, or old agreements renewed.
And when you get back to your desk, or your kitchen table, or your favorite couch — laptop propped on your knee — everything about your writing looks and feels just a bit different. Your plans for your writing will look and feel a bit different too. Almost always in positive ways. Because your mental and emotional picture is now much bigger than it was before.
I count these experiences as being distinctly different from down time, because down time is about unwinding the spring. Adjusting headspace can often involve winding the spring even tighter, before it suddenly unwinds itself very quickly, and in a fashion you (ubiquitous) did not plan, nor expect. It’s not relaxation, though you may feel very much more relaxed once you’re walking back through your front door, or in from the garage. It’s a form of necessary exertion, during which you grapple with your life — the other sectors of the “pie” — in ways that demand a great deal of energy and effort. But if you’ve managed to make good use of the minutes, you can return to reality with an expanded set of options, and a reinvigorated outlook.
Granted, my experience above is just that: my experience. I know too many writers who do not have the greatest relationships in the world, and for whom an event like this (described above) would spiral into destructive chaos. I also know some single authors who simply don’t have that Very Important Person in their lives, who will not only serve as a sympathetic ear, but also challenges these authors on a gut level — and in ways that won’t always be comfortable. In these instances, headspace adjustment may come in the form of a weekend backpacking trip into the mountains, or running a half marathon, perhaps even working on that classic car which has been up on chocks for years? You will know it when you experience it, because after said activit(ies) are over, you come back to the ordinary world with a different set of eyes. Eyes capable of seeing ways around obstacles that were blocking you before? Or spying new business avenues to take, where old avenues were frustrating you before?
The point is, everybody needs this, once in awhile.
Not constantly — because chronically adjusting headspace, or feeling like you need to do it constantly — is probably a sign that something genuinely and deeply wrong is happening in your life, or in your relationship. That’s when you want to look for some professional guidance. A therapist or counselor who can clinically adjust your headspace for you. Because you’re too deep in the shit to figure it out on your own. And that’s not a bad thing. Nobody gives any of us an owner’s manual for this life. The majority of us just kind of bungle our way through it. Some better than others. But even the seemingly well-adjusted, may not be so. And it’s not a sin to admit you need a pro to help you out.
Just be open to those instances when you — or you and your spouse — need to jump in that car, and bug out for a little while.
Even if the timing seems horrible, and it’s the last thing in the world you want to be doing.
Trust me, those are the moments when you may need it the most!