You Can Never Have Too Much Writing...Er, I Don't Think?

I must be crazy, because I just started another blog. And not this blog that you see before you, no. A different blog in a totally different place. A blog on my shiny new yoga website (www.elizabethhaynesyoga.com) that I created yesterday, since I finally realized I'm ready to get back into teaching.

Sometimes I ask myself, "Self, hey you...yes you. Pay attention. Say, self, do you think you can have too much writing in your life?"

I go through periods where I can't seem to get enough of it. Like right now. Where I want to write about anything and everything that crosses my mind as important. Or reach out to people through the internet by turning my words into gestures, or hugs, or waves. Or just birth a new writing project because it feels awesome to create something new (like a new blog).

And then I have moments where I just want to run and hide in the corner, curling my legs up under my fuzzy blanket and hunching down over a good book. Maybe fiction this time, to get away from reality. To enter into a colorful (or colorless) new world and explore the minds of made up characters.

I suppose it's ok to have too much writing sometimes as long as you like what you're writing about. And as long as you're inspired. Because then, honestly, it doesn't take all that long to write down whatever it is you have to say. It's like picking up a pen and watching its ink flow out - smoothly, without any hiccups, without getting clogged, without running low. And then you lift your pen off the page and find a cohesive "something" sitting before you.

Pen, lifted.

And then you move on to the next thing.

Finding Time to Write When You're Already Writing All the Time

Every writer and writing book and writing class and writing group (you get the idea) will talk about how important it is to make time to write. Which is true. And yet, here is my argument:

How do you make time to write when you're already writing every single day? 

Now in my situation, I'm not writing for me. I'm writing for clients, for businesses, for work. Not for my personal projects. I haven't worked on my book manuscript in weeks. And I've only worked on it a handful of times in the last two months.

So I'm back to my dilemma: How do you find time to write when you're already writing all the time? 

And let's just assume (well, because it's true) that I'm not someone who can write for 8 hours a day. Or even 6, much of the time. My brain just can't do it. By the time I've squeezed out every last drop of copy for my clients I'm ready to shut it down. I want to do something else with my brain cells. You know, surf...or read...or stare blankly at the wall. Ok, I only do that last one sometimes.

I'm going to have to strike a balance at some point though, because at this rate I'm growing my business like crazy (yahoo! success!) but I'm losing my ability to work on the things that are really important to me from a "dreams" perspective. But then, a lot of times it doesn't feel like a bad trade-off. I really love my job. I love writing for people. I love learning about a whole lot of different things. No week is ever the same.

I love that.

I also really like being able to pay my bills. And I'm finally at a point where my income is comfortable. And in order for it to stay that way, well..I have to work.

So maybe it's just not time to make time for writing when I'm writing all the time. Not yet. Did you catch that? That's my attempt at a tongue twister. I digress.

Maybe once I'm chugging along for a while and feel confident that my client list won't evaporate in two months' time (because let's face it, it's an unpredictable business), I'll be able to cut back to only those projects I really want to work on. And that can free me up for Art Fridays like I've been talking about doing.

Yeah. Good plan.

When An Existing Author Already Has Your Name

So I got married this year, and my name changed to Elizabeth Haynes. And I was really excited about publishing a book under that name, since I intend for this name to stick with me for the rest of my life! (Not to mention I was tired of my ex-husband's last name.) And then I found a problem: there is already an Elizabeth Haynes. And she is a writer.

Doh.

So I went through a writer's identity crisis, a series of phases really. And since I know you want to read what they were, here they are in a nice bullet format:

• Phase 1: Elizabeth Haynes only has a couple of books out, maybe I can just keep my name and it won't matter.
• Phase 2: I don't really want to be confused with Elizabeth Haynes, the crime novel writer. Maybe I should write under a pseudonym. I could use my grandmother's middle name, perhaps.
• Phase 3: Ok, I can't be someone I'm not. What about a pen name? Christine Haynes (based on my middle name)? No. That's just not me. How about E. C. Haynes?
• Phase 4: I'm writing under the name E. C. Haynes, and that's what it'll be! I've got a website now, and I've branded myself. Done!
• Phase 5: What if I write for magazines and want to promote my book? What if I never write fiction? It's sure looking that way. I want to use my real name.
• Phase 6: Wow, Elizabeth Haynes has gotten pretty famous all of a sudden. I can Google her and I'm nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, her face is everywhere. Hmmm.
• Phase 7: What do I do? Let me Google it. Hmm...other people have simply added their middle initial. I'll do that.
• Phase 8: Nope, that's not going to work. Time to wipe out my first name, add an initial, and use my middle name. Done!

I think it's a tough situation when you're a writer and someone else is already famous under your name. After all, if anyone searches for the freelance writer "Elizabeth Haynes" they surely won't find me. And that's a darn pity, isn't it?

And so I've now rebranded everything to say "E. Christine Haynes." Do I wish I was the only Elizabeth Haynes writing stuff? Yes! But that's not how the world works. So welcome to existence, writer E. Christine Haynes. It's nice to know you.

Non-Fiction is Writing, Too!

So here's the deal. After my last blog post, which was a somewhat distraught rendition of a writer in distress (read it here), I've decided I wasn't altogether incorrect in that my dream was wrong. But I wasn't altogether correct, either.

The thing is that yes, I'm a writer. And I remember a couple of years ago that I decided I was just going to be a non-fiction writer. Because that's what I liked and that's what I was good at.

But then, you know, you see your friends writing fiction. And you read lots of awesome fiction novels. And you're in awe, and want to create worlds like that. And you start to think, this is where the art is. This is where the cool stuff is. This is where I want to be.

And so what do you do? You make it your dream to be a novelist even though you'd already decided a while back that it wasn't your forte. And here, my friends, is where I went wrong.

The truth is that me, Elizabeth Haynes, the writer, really likes writing non-fiction. And I was perhaps a little ashamed of that inclination, feeling like it was a step down from the "real" writers of the world. Because as I bemoaned in my last post, the "real" writers are often said to be the ones who create mystical worlds of living characters who have never breathed real air and yet somehow come alive.

Well, I've decided that I'm silly. Non-fiction is "real" writing, too.

Yesterday I got two see two new magazine clips of mine, both of them cover stories that I'd written and that were just published. And both were, well, journalism. Which is non-fiction. Which is telling stories - just like fiction - except that the people are real. And I was really proud of my work.

So I scratch my chin and say to myself, I think that maybe I like journalism. I was talking to my husband about it last night and I suddenly realized that telling real stories is just as valid as telling fake ones. What's wrong with that? Who made me the authority on what is art and what isn't? Why does art always have to be fake? Isn't photography real?

And to be honest, if I want to dissect everything a bit more (I do), I tell stories all the time in my writing. I tell businesses' stories, I tell success stories, I tell product stories, I tell biographical stories. I write people's resumes to tell their career stories. I do tell stories, just not in the fiction sense.

So yes, I will keep writing. And yes, I still want to be a writer. I think I just got a little off track for a bit. Derailed. Runaway train sort of thing. Because that's what happens when I derail - everything snow balls and I lay on the floor in ball of wadded up emotion. Ok well it wasn't that dramatic, but it did cause me to lose a bit of sleep.

And now that I've gotten this all out of my brain, I'll go exercise a little bit. And get back to work. My freelance work! Which I absolutely love. Every non-fiction bit of it.

Sometimes What You Think Is Your Dream, Isn't

I love reading fiction, but I find time and again that I can't write it. And it's something that's really bothering me, I think, because as a society we seem to believe that the "real" writers are the fiction writers. They're the artists. They're the creative ones.

And when the only real dream I've had is to be a writer, it can be disheartening to feel like you can't do the thing you dream of doing. And on occasion it's also depressing, and carries me to a place where I want to wave my white flag and say:

"You know what? I just don't have a story inside of me. I love words, I love writing. I love hearing people's stories. But I don't ache to write. I don't live to write. I don't breathe words and sentences. I won't die if I don't write. In fact, I like a lot of other things too - like photography, cooking, yoga, dance, gardening, knitting. Maybe I'm just not a 'real' writer."

I asked my best friend last week, "What's my one thing? You know, that thing that's 'me' and that encompasses who I am the most?"

And she said, "Writer, duh." And then she added, "Oh and cats."

And I guess that's true when you've been a professional writer for over 10 years. That's your thing. Here I am writing this blog post, and not for money, but because I have something to say.

But I'm not writing a fiction story.

So yes, I'm mildly frustrated with myself today. I want to be a writer. I want to be a creative. I want to be an artist. But the truth is I just don't have any made-up stories to tell. I look into my brain and there are a few disjointed thoughts, a handful of random characters, and perhaps a setting or two. But that's it. There's nothing there that forms a story.

I have started a novel this year for the second time. And I'm four chapters in. And I'm thinking maybe I'll get through it slowly...like one of those writers who writes a book for 10 years before they're finished. But in the meantime, aside from freelancing, what dream can I hang my hat on? This writer feels a little lost today.

Afterthought:

Reading what I wrote, talking to my husband, turning everything over in my head. Pausing. Thinking.

Well, here's the thing. Maybe what I thought was my dream just isn't. Maybe it's ok that I really enjoy freelance writing. And maybe I've dreamed of being an author because I'm good at writing, and not because it's really my dream.

Maybe, just maybe, I've got to examine whether writing books is really my purpose, or if it's just something that I wish was my purpose.

In fact, maybe my purpose is something else entirely. I've been asking myself lately (because I read this question in a magazine), What does the world need? What's the one thing? And my answer is: self-esteem/self love. The author of the article claimed the answer to that question would bring you closer to your purpose.

It's time to open my brain again. To start exploring. To realize that I've read a lot of books on the craft of writing, that I've tried to write fiction, and that it just doesn't come naturally to me. What does come naturally? Blog posts like this one. My writing work that I do for businesses. Non-fiction or opinion pieces. Non-profit work.

And so I begin my journey anew.

I will finish my memoir, An Offbeat Path Through Yoga, because it came naturally to me. And I will continue to work as a freelance writer, because I can't think of a more awesome way to make a living. And in my spare time? I'll start exploring other things that I've loved in my life. One of those is photography. Maybe there's something in there that I'm missing.

Writing is Easy, Being a Writer is Hard

The hardest part about being a writer is making yourself sit down to write. The second hardest part is spending hour after hour, day after day, with nobody but yourself and your coffee (or in my case, chai). The third hardest part...well I could go on and on, but at the very end of the list would be the actual writing.

Yeah, I know it sounds weird. But as someone who spends most of her days writing (albeit freelance writing, and not the writing I'd like to do for novels, etc.) I can testify that the writing part - once you get going - is really the easiest part of the whole thing. It's not easy. It's never easy! But it's the easiest part.

I've read stories about writers time and again who have the worst time just sitting down and actually writing. It's not that the person dreads writing or hates doing it. It's that somehow getting from bed to computer is an insurmountable obstacle, like there is a big, snowy mountain rising up between you and your work. And you've got to climb up and over that same mountain every single day.

Now once I can actually climb over the mountain and make myself sit down and do my writing, usually I find that it flows. And I love it. And I'm lost. And by god don't interrupt me. But I can't for the life of me understand why it's so hard to just get myself there.

The other part of being a writer that's hard? Being alone. A lot. And it's not like I'm uncomfortable with myself or anything. In fact I'm probably more comfortable being alone than many people I know.

But writing is by definition an absolutely solitary pursuit. Just like I'm doing right now. I'm here with my computer and my brain and nothing else - there is no conversation, no interaction, no other human being taking part in the work. And even though my husband is at home right now, he can't be here, where I am.

They say a lot of writers are prone to depression, but then it's sort of like the chicken and the egg isn't it? Did the depression push the person into a life of writing? Or did the writing bring down a curtain of depression? Sometimes I think it's a little bit of both. Although for me the depression came first.

So no, it's not the writing part that's hard. It's being a writer that's hard. Dedicating your life to creating words and shaping scattered thoughts into cohesive works of art. To sitting in front of your computer and tapping away in silence. To living day in and day out with nobody but yourself.

Sure, writing is not inherently easy to do. Anyone who says writing is easy is a very silly soul. It's not. But compared to being a writer? Piece of cake.

Why I'm Choosing to Go Indie

So I'm about six months away from publishing my first book, which is amazingly exciting! But there was a long process I went through to decide to self-publish when I'm done. Because on one hand, I craved the validation that comes with being traditionally published by a big house. The prestige, if you will. The visibility. The earning potential.

But then I relented, I pulled back. Because at the end of the day I don't want a publishing house to take control of my art. So I decided to go indie.

Now this isn't to say that I'm not open to feedback and changes. Not at all. But I think a lot about Hollywood, the media, and what the powerful people say "sells." And at the end of the day I believe publishing houses will publish what they believe sells. If your work isn't quite what they feel will sell, they will want to change it so that (in their mind) it will.

That's just the way it works. It's business.

Well I decided that I don't want to risk a Hollywood bastardization of my work, if you will. I don't want to be just another zombie story, or just another romance novel, or just another drug ridden family, or whatever genre slot they want to put me into. Because you do have to fit into a slot in order to be published by a traditional house.

It's sort of like the movies...are you a romantic comedy? An action film? Sci-fi? Drama? Oh wait, you're a mixture? You're something new? I'm sorry, we don't want your work.

Well, I don't want to be that writer. I want to make whatever it is that I make. I want an editor, who has experience with the craft, to tell me where my stories are falling short and how I can improve them. And to tell me what needs changing. I don't want a publisher trying to mold my work into their cookie cutter slots.

My great uncle, Bob St. John, has written several books. And I remember his publisher used to ask him to write sex scenes into his stories because they said it would sell better. And he refused to do it. And this was back in the 1980s.

I can only imagine what the publishers want to see now.

I want my art to be me. And I don't feel confident that in today's market, I can be me going a traditional route. Not until I've proven myself capable on my own, and that my work stands on its own, and will sell on its own, and that it doesn't need to be "tweaked" to fit Hollywood or the media.

So this, in short, is why I'm choosing to go indie. But of course it's not the only reason. Dwindling advances and changing pressures on the author have a lot to do with it too.

Is self-publishing ideal? No, not yet. I realize I won't get seen in most bookstores and libraries. I also realize it's going to be hard to be taken seriously amid the trash heap of books that probably should have stayed in the writer's computer. Or at least been edited before being thrown out to the masses.

But I also realize that I'm determined, that I'm a good writer, and that I have solid business sense. And really, what's the point of living if you don't hang your balls (er, boobs?) out there and just go for what you want? This is want I want. I want to be me. I want to create books that are mine.

So I will go indie.