I’m a writer who’s been in a writing slump.
This is how I got myself out.
Alright, I admit it, I’ve been a little off lately. Largely because I’m a writer who recently fell into a writing slump. Ugh.
I can’t say that any one thing was responsible for said slump. It was more like a series of small things – not getting enough rest, a bad case of PMS, school holidays, sick kids, a couple of writing rejections in a row – all converged to create the perfect slump storm. What I can say for sure is that during this time, my confidence was low, my anxiety was high and the effect on my work near crippling.
And in the wise words of Dr Seuss, “When you're in a Slump, you're not in for much fun. Un-slumping yourself is not easily done.”
Don’t I (and everyone that was around me during this time) know it?
Weathering the storm
Part of the deal with being a freelance writer is sending out pitches to publications – many of which will get rejected, some of which will get the green light. As mentioned, in the lead up to Slumpapalooza, I had gone through one of those inevitable periods where a lot had fallen flat.
Nobody likes rejection, especially not our brains. Studies have shown that rejection can temporarily lower our IQs and our ability to think rationally (more on this later). However, as any freelance writer will tell you it’s just par-for-the-course stuff. No real biggie, until you find yourself stuck in Slump Town, that is.
Getting unstuck
In the past, I’ve mostly tried to write my way out of a slump. However, this time my white-knuckle approach just wasn’t working. My confidence had taken such a beating that I was doubting everything I did and digging myself into a deeper hole with every word I put down.
Over coffee with a friend, who’s also a creative, she gently suggested that perhaps I take a break from writing, even just for a bit – just to clear my head a little.
Initially, I resisted, my fear getting all shouty about it. I call myself a writer and a writer must write, right? And, if I wasn’t writing, what was I? Who was I? Other than a thumb-twiddling fraudster! And if I stopped pitching, even for just for a couple of months, would I ever get another article up again? (Remember that part about rational thinking going out the window? Well friends, this is what it looks like.)
Additionally, factoring in time off as a freelancer isn’t always straightforward. You need to work when you’ve got it, then you need to keep working to get more of it. At times, it can feel like taking your foot off the gas, even short-term, will have long-term implications.
Permission to pause
All this aside, I thought about it. Given that not much else was working for me, I eventually decided to give myself a month or so off the pitching merry-go-round while I focussed on some rejection-proof projects I already had lined up. I’m highly aware that being able to stop any aspect of your job is a privilege and it must be said that I could only do this through my husband’s support.
Though I’ve missed the thrill of the chase that comes with pitching and the adrenaline rush of seeing my words published, I’ve got to say, it’s been really good for my mental health to have a break from the churn and burn nature of digital content.
Sometimes, the best thing you can do for yourself, and your craft, really is nothing. Literally just stop, tools down, and get yourself as far away from it as possible.
I know, I know. It flies in the face of the hustle culture many of us were raised in and it’s particularly hard for people, including me, whose self-worth is horrendously tied up with their productivity.
Embracing the seasons
But here’s the thing, you know, that I’m currently sitting with: you can’t always be in creator mode, constantly harvesting ideas from within yourself. Or at least, in my experience, you can’t be without it eventually catching up with you and your work in one way or another.
It reminded me of an idea I first came across in
’s delightful book, I Didn’t Do The Thing where she writes about embracing the cycles and seasons of your work rather than forcing yourself to maintain an unrelenting schedule. As illustrator, Adriana Picker, told Dore, “The fallow winter is just as important as the bountiful, productive spring.”It harks back to the viral quote you’ve no doubt seen: “There is nothing in nature that blooms all year long, so don't expect yourself to do so either.”
It’s something that I believe is applicable to everyone, but especially those with creative practices. You might even find that taking a break, even a short one, gives you the space and distance to sow the seeds of something else. For me, that turned out be this newsletter. It’s one of those things I’ve been thinking about starting for the longest time, but just didn’t have the bandwidth for until now. Turns out, taking some time out and changing tack was exactly what I needed to un-slump myself.
You tell ‘em!
No seriously, please tell me, Em, how you’ve handled your own trips to Slumpville and more importantly, how did you find your way out? Or, if there’s anything else that you’re currently sitting with and would like to share, please lmk in the comments below or over on Instagram! xx
This is so relatable. From a writer to someone who likes the idea of being a writer it is inspiring. thanks for sharing Emily !
Such a good article Em - your comment where you mentioned how you’re tied up with that mindset of self-worth being horrendously tied up with productivity, is something that I connected with. I know there’s more talk about the anti-hustle culture lately, but it’s a hard habit to break isn’t it? Plus as a creative, and particularly when you’re trying to build a reputation/ small biz, it’s so hard to not hustle. I’m glad you were able to take the time for yourself, reset, and that it worked like a charm for you!