For the last few weeks, I have been taking a break from writing. Instead, I’ve been gardening, going on walks, reading books that fall in the “fluff” category (i.e. not genre research). This decision was deliberate and followed a recent rejection that stung deeper than usual and came on the heels of a year of building momentum. It has been a relief to take a break from the specter of “what I could achieve if I persist.” I feel like I’ve been on vacation.
Let’s Talk About Boundaries
Around the time I lost my writing mojo, I came across this article by Mirella Stoyanova on Jane Friedman’s blog, “Boundaries Are About More Than Simply Carving Out the Time to Write.” Stoyanova claims there are two areas in a person’s writing life where boundaries come into play:
These two areas involve (1) the way we write and shape our own writing identities and (2) the way we consume content and services designed to help us write. One is about the way we negotiate boundaries with ourselves as writers, the other is about the way we negotiate boundaries with others—and the two are inextricably linked.
Mirella Stoyanova
Finally, I thought, someone owning that you need boundaries from your writing, not just for it. But, as I read on, it seemed Stoyanova and I were talking about two different things. Negotiating our boundaries with ourselves, says Stoyanova, is mostly about picking which subjects to write about. She does mention that we need to decide when to stop writing for the day—when we have nothing left, not to push ourselves—but that implies a daily writing practice.
I wonder if in Stoyanova’s perspective, knowing when to take a break from writing for an extended period of time would classify as an acceptable boundary? Or if, as in other writers’ viewpoints, taking a break from writing is a slow backslide into “I consider myself a writer, but I can’t remember the last time I actually wrote anything,” a meme frequently found on the parody writing Reddit threads.
But here’s the problem: Writing is work. For the last several years, I have gone to my regular job and come home and carved out time to work on my writing when I can—weekends, evenings, thirty minutes before bed while my husband takes his turn in the bathroom. Sure, the age-old advice is to “write for yourself” because there is no guarantee that your work will ever see the light of day, but I do plan (hope, aspire, pray) to publish, and so I work to prepare my writing for an agent, for an editor, for a publisher.
It is important to recognize that writing with the intent to publish is labor.
If I’ve learned nothing else from the month I’ve taken off from writing, it’s that my writing goals take up the same mental space as a second job. And not taking a break from work is a surefire way to get burnt out.
So I’m here to tell you (and myself) that it’s ok to take a break. In fact, it’s necessary. Because the funny thing about allowing yourself a break is that it gives you the space to think. Obligation acts as a block. Remove the block, and you have flow; you reconnect with the mind state that brings you back to the work.
So here we are, a month after I started my vacation from writing, and I am writing a blog. Meanwhile, stories I haven’t given two thoughts to in ten years run rampant through my mind and flow nearly complete through my fingers. Lately, some problems I’ve been working through on my novel-in-progress have revealed their solutions.
I might not have been putting down words for the last few weeks, but taking a break has nonetheless been productive (restful, joyful, creative). In the end, I always find my way back to the writing.