It’s The Little Things – by Sarah A. Hoyt

What do you do when the writing isn’t working?

Well, in my case I freak out. Usually when the writing isn’t working it’s one of two things: Either I really don’t like whatever I’m trying to force through, or I’m sick again.

Being sick is still sort of on the differential. Why? Well, because I know the novella I finished didn’t “close” right. Something surprised me right at the end, and I suspect I need to go back and foreshadow the heck out of it, etc.

Only, Rhodes to Hell gets finished today, before I do that, because I need to make up for last month, but also because I really need to “rinse” my mind so I approach the novella clear-minded.

I plan to release it on the 15th, it’s called Lights out and Cry and it’s in the shifter series. It’s a novella, because it’s a piece that doesn’t fit either with Bowl of Red or with All Hot. It’s the birth bit, and I wanted to get it out of the way.

This doesn’t mean I wanted it to a) introduce the big bad for the next cycle/perhaps the rest of the series. b) feature the death of a major character.

Heck, I was going to release it as a “not required in the series.” And then–

Anyway…. moving right along.

As some of you know, I started this year by making a plan for writes/releases. As we all know this is a bad idea, and no good will come of it. However, D*mn it, this is starting to make “business level” money, and needs to be treated as such, so it makes “Dan and Sarah supporting money” so that when Dan retires (at most in 2 years, I suspect. His music and writing are calling him) or cuts way back on his day job, we can go on living in the style we’ve become accustomed to. (It’s not a great style, but it’s ours.)

Two things happened almost immediately: I didn’t want to write any of the scheduled stuff, and was lucky to do 100 words a day. And I could write like the wind in the evening, on the unscheduled ones.

Which, you know, immediately sent me into “Well, that’s just me. I’m being rebellious against the schedule.” Followed by “What’s wrong with me, actually?” and blah blah blah.

I spent over two months doing this, dragging my behind and getting so depressed I couldn’t even remember my characters names. There might be more to it, in this. I’ve been feeling very very ill, and finally decided to add an hour of walking (on the treadmill, while doing social media and blogs in the morning) to my routine. So far, absolutely no weight has been lost, but I DO feel way better, and my brain seems to have come online. I still hate this, but that’s because of the ADD not the walking. I like walking, moving around, doing things, etc. I just get bored. Which is why I clean with the headphones on, listening to stories. Otherwise I’d never clean.

Oh, yeah, that’s the thing to remember: I’m ADHD AF, and I swear it’s gotten worse since menopause, which apparently is not unusual.

But yeah, being a writer and therefore all into the psychological barriers to the hero of the story, etc. etc. etc. I immediately go from “Can’t work” to “Ah, it’s psychological!” right? Followed by the usual writerly worries that I’m broken, that the writing “thing” has just moved on, that whatever mechanisms of aging and changing (We women are like tinker toys. I swear every few years something gets taken away/added/changed that completely changes the way our physiology works and with it our psychology. So, it’s in a way a legitimate fear. It’s also insane. It’s also something every writer male and female fears. We are actually an utter and complete mess.)

Running on this, I just kept getting angrier and angrier at myself. And more and more depressed.

And then the other night, I was on the laptop (which is my social media computer) and explaining something to a friend. And I looked down at my hands typing, and realized I was typing at my normal speed, and also that I hadn’t seen that in quite a while.

And understanding dawned like a big giant nuclear fusion fire coming up over the horizon.

You see, in November I turned 60. For various reasons, but mostly because it ended up being a really unpleasant day, we didn’t do much to celebrate. Couldn’t get the kids out here, and frankly we didn’t feel like going out.

Here I should point out my normal birthday celebrations are the stuff of glitz and glamour. Some of my very favorites involved going to the zoo and the Natural History Museum in Denver, and then hitting the Greek diner on Colfax. So, you know, I’m the last of the highest high rollers, and I demand a lot for my birthday.

Only I couldn’t even get that, (Well, the equivalent here) and I was depressed. So I thought I’d buy myself one of the qwerty toys retro keyboards. I hated to, because they’re so expensive. But they’re so pretty. And having a pretty office makes me happy, and–

So I bought it. And it looked lovely in my office. And it gave me a little jolt of happiness.

I bought the wrist rest, of course, but it was still making my wrists hurt, so I bought another wrist wrest to put in front of the wrist rest. It still felt slightly uncomfortable though.

And then I realized it was slowing my typing. Not a ton. Just about 20%.

The problem is that this then hooked up with my ADD. That slight slow down was enough to pop my own head out of the story and make it impossible for me to stay in there.

So, my brain kept thinking of other, more interesting things I should be doing: crocheting. Cleaning the cat box. etc. etc. etc.

And I kept trying to re-direct. And popping back out.

The only time before that I found myself in this loop is when my glasses are so far out of prescription that seeing the screen is an effort. Then I start wanting to do anything but write.

This time I was perfectly fine writing the off-project. On the laptop. Because it didn’t have a fancy keyboard.

And because the laptop is the social media computer, I was also developing a raging case of social media addiction.

Anyway, so I regretfully put my beautiful, fancy keyboard away — the problem honestly is that it’s not wide enough. The keys are too close. — and brought out the old battered one that has seen me through the last 15 years or so.

I immediately finished Lights out and Cry and am now trying to finish Another Rhodes.

LOAC is a bit of a mess, partly because it had sat for so long in my mind accruing bits, I think. So, it will probably need a thorough go over and rewrite. Tomorrow.

In the meantime, I have figured out what was wrong, and it’s not psychological, and it won’t take as much to solve.

In some parallel world, I’ll end up in therapy trying to figure out where the writing mojo went, and nothing will work.

So, when the writing stops look to easily solvable “mechanical” things first. Sometimes it’s the little things that get us, and taking care of those will fix the big ones.

And my fancy keyboard has just become the “remote, away” writing system, because it works with my tablet, and it’s super compact, so no lugging the big laptop case with me when I might just want to jot down notes while out for the day somewhere.

In the meantime I’ll write on the old keyboard. And do it fast.