Mental Health Awareness for Writers - not such a crazy idea.

The night I started planning my posts for this residency, I dreamed I was at a writers’ festival. A poet told me she wished she could tell stories – I said, ‘Every poem you write tells a story!’ She asked if I was a poet and I said, ‘No, I just write verse novels.’ Yes, even in my dreams, those old buddies, Inner Critic and Imposter Syndrome are alive and well.

Which is why Mental Health Awareness month is relevant to writers. As well as being people with the full range of human problems, our work is constantly evaluated – against what other artists have created, what we have created in the past, what our readers were hoping we would create – or what we dreamed of creating, possibly the harshest criteria of all. It’s not easy to turn off that constant vigilance of criticism required in redrafting and editing.

And apparently constantly ruminating over our fictitious characters’ problems means that we rarely completely tune out, which may leave us more prone to depression. Most of us have probably suspected that, but I was intrigued to find that brain studies corroborate it. It may also be why it’s so difficult to separate our job of writing from our personal identity.

Finally, being used to working alone doesn’t mean that it’s any easier to endure the forced isolation or togetherness of lockdowns.

But identifying the risks lets us work out strategies. In fact, if you’re in it for the long haul, it’s essential. Writing is a lousy way to make a living, but it’s a great way to make a life. I’ve been doing both for thirty years.  

So for the next month of this residency, I’m going to share some of the writing practices or thoughts that have helped me do it. To start with, here are a few quick ones specifically looking at our mental health awareness.

1)Write what you truly want to write, not what you feel you should. My first writing plan was to write Mills & Boon romances to finance myself to write what I wanted. I can’t believe my arrogance – I’d never read one, and when I did, I didn’t love them. Strange to tell, my three attempts were rejected. The successful romance writers I know and respect love both writing and romance; it makes them happy. But for me, as my husband said at the time, ‘If you’re going to be unsuccessful, you might as well do something you like.’ I did, and it worked.

2) Writing what you need to write can tap into your subconscious, trigger old traumas, and drain you, body and spirit. Practice self care.

3) Build up your writing community. Find it online if you don’t have one - #writingcommunity on Twitter is a great start. Engaging in writing discussions, especially in your chosen genre, can be true conversation. If you know other writers in real life and can’t stand another Zoom group, make the effort to phone or email. I’m always amazed at how uplifted I am after chatting to another author, even if the call that started with something like – ‘Which Power Point setting did you use in that Zoom presentation?’ leads quickly to problems with finding the right mask elastic and baby news.

3) Conversely – be wary of social media. Someone wrote 6000 words today! Yay for them. Everyone else signed with a prestigious agent, has a new book out, was listed for a prize, appeared on a worldwide stage, won an award. Time to switch off Twitter.

4) Recognise your achievements – be aware of how good it feels when you’ve been lost in the flow; feel some pride that you’ve completed a first draft, be grateful for the image that appeared while you were walking. A professional gambler friend says it’s the only thing he’s found that compares to the thrill of gambling. (Which is funny, because I’ve always figured that writers are professional gamblers, it’s just that we gamble with time rather than money.)

5) Take care of your physical body and listen to what it’s telling you about your mental health . Leah Horlick covered this brilliantly last month: http://open-book.ca/Writer-in-Residence/Leah-Horlick/Red-Light-Green-Light-how-to-actually-listen-to-your-body-while-writing\ Every writer should read it.  As an ex-Occupational Therapist with severe cervical injuries and chronic pain, all I’ll add is:

a) Set a stand-up-and-stretch timer for 30 minutes. I use a Holosync studying meditation track which was originally recorded on cassette tape, so it stops after 30 minutes. If I stop using it, I forget to stretch. Using it is much cheaper than physiotherapy.

b) Invest in the best chair you can; use a footrest if you need one. Experiment with a standing desk.

c) If you can’t go for a walk every day, try to do a bit of exercise inside – aerobic or yoga, tai chi or jumping jacks, you know what suits you. Just do something other than sit at your desk.

6) Take a break when you need it – for an hour, a day or a month, or even a year. You’ve got to go on loving this job to do it.