Wow, I found this awesome post by Brian Hodge, A Survival Guide for Writers in Love (And Those Who Love Them), with contributions from Brian Keene, Barb Hendee, Mark Alan Gunnells, and Elizabeth Massie.  It reveals some hard truths about what it’s like not only to have a relationship as a writer, but with one as well.  Thanks to Brian Keene for bringing it to my attention on Facebook, in a link to his blog.

Read it; I’ll wait.

Done?

It gave me some things to think about.  Egon is pretty supportive, but I wonder how that would play out if we weren’t long-distance, and I was pounding out a novel all day.  If I were totally freelance, my workday would coincide with his and we’d both be done by five.  One problem with creative work, however, is that your muse doesn’t always keep regular hours.

In addition, many writers are also juggling full-time jobs.  Because, you know, writing unpublished novels doesn’t pay anything.  Even published writers often don’t make enough to go rogue and quit the rat race.

Say your partner is working and you are working, and then you come home and start writing.  Basically, you have two jobs.  That doesn’t leave much time or energy for anything.

The post talked mostly about romantic partnerships, but a creative track can mess with other relationships as well.  I’ve run into misunderstandings with family members whose most egregious offenses were attempts to dictate the content of my work, or uninformed advice about the progression of my fledgling career.  While spouses can be guilty of this as well, someone you live with every day is bound to see a bit more of the reality than people you only hang with on Turkey Day.

Distilling the advice from the post and throwing in some of my own, I came up with these points:

Questions or concerns on either side? Voice them

As Hodge writes, and the others agree, writers and their partners are not mind-readers.  If you don’t talk about problems or ask questions, you’ll mire yourself in a swamp of assumptions.  Fears are huge when they’re inside your head.  Drag them out into the light through your mouth and they shrivel and die.

This is what fear looks like. It mostly comes at night….mostly.

Image:  Alltopmovies.net

Neither one of you is more important than the other

You can’t have a relationship without the other person.  When you spend time with her, pay attention.  Just sitting in the same room doesn’t count.   You’re in a relationship because you care about this person.  If she is only a vehicle to your future literary superstardom who pays the bills and cleans the house, you are a gold-digging jerk.  Leave now and let a real man come into her life!

Creative work is mostly mental

Hodge makes a great point in that writing doesn’t always look like writing.  I may not be tapping on the keyboard.  You might see me doing something that looks totally unrelated, yet with a spaced-out look.  I’m THINKING.  If you ask me something and I say, “Huuhhh…duuuuhhh,” back off a bit.  I promise, I’ll come back to you.

Career advice from a non-writer should be withheld, or nicely ignored

Please don’t tell your writer what to do.  She has (hopefully) spent time learning important tidbits about submittals, queries, formatting, or keeping up with industry news and trends.  When you say, “You know what you oughta do?” she’s gonna tune you out.  You wouldn’t tell a firefighter how to fight a fire, would you?

Let’s see you try this.

Image:  Tokino / Wikimedia Commons

Exception:  if we ask for feedback.  Honest and thoughtful are the watchwords here.  Believe me, if you blast us, we won’t ask again.

Don’t scream at well-meaning family members who offer advice.  If you think they’ll listen, you can point out that yeah, it would be nice if Mom called that agent and insisted he read her baby boy’s manuscript, but that’s not how it works.  Thank them and save the eye-rolling for when they’re not in the room.

Which leads me to:

Share judiciously

DO NOT TELL PEOPLE WHAT YOU ARE WRITING ABOUT UNTIL YOU HAVE A COHERENT FIRST DRAFT.

I made this mistake.  Now some people won’t leave me the hell alone.  I put enough pressure on myself; now I have people bugging me about when it will be finished, when can they read it, etc. etc. ETC. AAAAAAHH!!!!!

This can derail a project at the speed of light.  I’ll finish it when I finish it.  Back off!

Discussing certain concepts with research in mind is not the same thing.  But make sure you choose carefully with whom you share.  Nagging isn’t productive.

Sorry, Grandma, the bloody zombie apocalypse cannibal gorefest isn’t done yet.

Image: Ambro / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

———-

Don’t take anything I say as a mandate or an insult.  It’s a two-way street, this understanding that goes on in relationships and families.  Like Pink Floyd says, just keep talking.

People tell me being a writer must be so cool, that I should quit my job and work from home, they wish they could write a book, etc.  I have no doubt my artist friends have heard similar utterances.

Truly, it is pretty awesome.  I can write something that’s in my head and make you see it (at least I hope you do) and live vicariously through my characters.  So it’s good, mostly.  I’d rather have it than not.

BUT…

In no particular order, here are the things about creativity that suck.

It’s not fun ALL the time

I hear over and over in freelancer blogs, articles and comments how everyone thinks full-time writers have it made.  The cliché is a pajama-clad person lolling on the sofa enjoying daytime TV in between occasional bursts of typing.  Stay-at-home moms get the same “You don’t really work” crap.

THIS IS THEIR JOB.  If they don’t do it, they don’t eat.  They just don’t have to sit in a stupid office like you.

Even part-time, it’s work.  Imagine writing a term paper.  For six months to a year.  That’s kind of what it’s like to write a novel.  If you’ve penned a thesis, you know what I mean.
 Money

Yes, there are plenty of paid writers out there doing more than content work.  And I know graphic artists, illustrators and musicians who are professionals at least part-time.

Most of them have a day job.  You know that old joke about every waiter is an actor?  That is truer than you know.   Also, freelancers have to work longer hours than someone employed traditionally because they have more to cover, and they never know when the flow will dry up.

Most of us won’t make the big bucks like John Grisham or Ken Follett.  We’ll be lucky if we can pay the bills.  “Just sell a book!” you say, smiling brightly.  Yeah, okay, after a year of writing and editing, and another six months of querying, submitting and waiting for people to get back to us—hell, we’re out on the street already.

It’s always in your head

Families of novelists often complain they are distracted and spacey when they’re involved in a manuscript.  We’re sorry.  Really, we don’t mean to ignore you.  We love Aunty Myrtle and we’d like to go to her cat’s anniversary party, but the book is demanding all our attention.   We probably see Christmas as a free afternoon to actually get something done.

Once you get in The Zone, it’s extremely hard to turn off your brain and focus on anything else.   For those of us with a real job, weekends, holidays and evenings are the only time we have to write.   Good scheduling and an understanding partner are priceless.  Some writers are better able to prioritize than others, but it’s something you can learn.

The whole “mad genius” thing

Recent studies showed a supposed link between creativity and mental illness such as depression and psychosis.  A high percentage of artists and writers are addicts, too.

Correlation doesn’t mean causation. If you’re a free spirit, you might already enjoy doing things most people would label as crazy.  Less-inhibited personalities may mean signs and symptoms are more easily noticed.  Either way, it can produce the wrong kind of attention.

As for depression and substance abuse, those can both stem from extreme disappointment, frustration and stress, things artists have to deal with on a regular basis.  Financial, career and relationship struggles will do a number on anyone.

And I won’t even mention the waves of “OH MY GOD I SUCK SO BAD” low self-esteem that wash over you periodically.  Especially when you read something so good you can never ever hope to duplicate its success.

It bites you in the ass all the time

Stephen King once mentioned something about how everyone told him “It must be great to have such a vivid imagination!”  Yeah, he said, until it turns on you with sharp teeth.

In bed late at night, you hear a noise.  A normal person might think “burglar” or “damn raccoons / possums / idiot dogs next door.”  A writer might have his hideous, gory death worked out before his feet even hit the floor.  Both will still be scared, but one’s gonna torture himself a lot more than the other.

Don’t even get me started on what Facebook can do to you.  The usual “why’d she post that?  Who the hell is [unknown work friend]?” shit only gets magnified.  Next thing you know, you’re cyberstalking instead of working, ready to meet your partner at the door with a flamethrower.

Yeah, thanks a lot, imagination.   You suck.