The Murverse Mothership

I’ve talked on my show before about how my brain needs a break after I finish a project. I’m serious- if I try to work after I finish a book or a script or something, it’ll be like I’m calling down to the productivity room for inspiration and nothing comes back. The brain, it just won’t work. So I’ve learned to give it a break.

Recently, though, I had a perfect storm. I turned in edits to Ghost Train to New Orleans in late August. Then I went to WorldCon. Then I won the Campbell. These are all positive things, but they all send a message to my brain- “Achievement unlocked, well done, it’s break time!” And with all three of these messages coming in at the same time, my brain checked out. I think it went to Tenerife.

The really big problem with this is if I don’t give my brain down time, if I try to force thinking and productivity, it won’t happen. What will happen is a lot of self-loathing because I can’t write a sentence or get anything done. I’ll hate my characters. I’ll record a podcast but not have the oomph to edit and upload and post it. I’ll do a load of laundry and leave it in the dryer for days.

I got a very nice email from an award winning author who gave me the advice that now that I’ve won an award, I may hit a wall, paralyzed by the pressure of needing to now prove I’m worthy of the award. The fear that everything I write will be scrutinized through a stronger magnifying glass, looking for any error to brand me a fraud. I appreciated the email, and tried to ready myself. But it’s like rejection, or a punch – even if you know something harsh is coming, it’s hard to not feel it.

In fact, I’m realizing that the response to these good things has to be like my response to the bad things. When I get rejections or other bad news, I allow myself a day of feeling sorry for myself. Red wine and chocolate are often involved. When I allow myself to process the sad, I can usually bounce back a lot faster than if I just try to soldier on. The response to good things can be similar; I need time to process, to relax from the hard work, and yeah, to get my confidence back. Because the threat of the Fraud Police doesn’t go away when you get published or win an award; in fact, now that there’s more at risk if you’re revealed a fraud, they’re after you even moreso than before.

Fraud FBI has been watching my house. I just know it.

So I’ve been getting my wordcount in (294 days on the magic spreadsheet!) but that’s about it. I need to get back to podcasting and brainstorming and email and stuff. Because it doesn’t matter if the Fraud FBI are watching, or I win an award, or I lose an award, or I get rejected, or what. If I’m going to be a writer, I have to do the work.