Dear Fury #8: You need to stop being so fucking delighted with yourself and learn to incorporate writing into your life.

Dear Fury,

I have fallen in love in mid-life.  It’s a passionate, wild ride for me right now with this lover, Wry Ting.  My spouse/partner, the house, the plants, the laundry, the meals, the relatives, the holidays, my hair/teeth/clothes/nails – EVERYTHING – all is being neglected in favor of this lover to whom I attend night and day, in my room, which is totally overtaken with books, computers, printers, paper, notes, coffee cups, wine glasses, food containers, sheets and blankets thrown to the floor… secrets.  A sign “do not disturb” hangs on my closed door.  I have become a night person now, for my lover soothes me when I can’t sleep and we stay up late together, trying new positions, and whispering sweet nothings and somethings.

I don’t want to get a divorce (I think) but I want to be with my lover All The Time.  And I think Wry Ting feels the same for we never run out of subjects to discuss after our two-hour marathon sessions twice a day.  My fingers have never felt so alive, my mind so authentic, my eyes so fulfilled.  What am I to do? Really, what am I to do?  Can it go on like this, forever?  Help!  Sorry I have to go – my lover is calling me.  (I don’t have a moment to myself.  Actually, there is no ‘myself’ any longer; there is just the two of us.)

— Smitten Kitten

 

Dear Smitten Kitten,

Oh goodness, please stop saying Wry Ting. I mean, I get it. It’s clever. But stop now.

But, also this: I GET IT. Writing has the same effect on me that sex does and that cocaine used to before I, well, we’ll get to that another day. I think about my writing projects all the time and, when they’re going well, they totally turn me on. It’s not about the subject matter (often I’m writing the most depressing stuff); it’s about the act of writing. When it’s good it’s GOOD. It’s, like, orgasm good. And it’s, like, drug high good: you just want more and more, even when the highs are not always what you hoped for.

That’s the down side, right? Or maybe you haven’t gotten there yet. Trust me: when writing is difficult and embarrassing and awkward, it’s the worst. It’s like struggling through a bad date or small-talking at an office party. When writing is going poorly it’s depressing and frustrating and it makes me want to do something dramatic and drastic. But it never makes me want to quit. It’s a passionate, dysfunctional thing, and, like any passionate, dysfunctional relationship, you are finding yourself changed, more secretive and under slept. Oh it’s exhilarating, isn’t it? Even the shitty parts.

So enjoy. Seriously. Give yourself these early months to be moony-eyed and turned on all the time, to delight in all the books, pens, paper strewn about your workspace. But, you know, like anything, this phase will pass. Sure, you may always love writing in a special, hyper kind of way. I hope you do. But, if it’s sticking around, you need to figure out how to incorporate writing into your life without derailing your relationships and responsibilities. I realize you are in love with love itself here, but eventually your plants are going to die, you’ll lose your paying job, and your partner will move out if you spend all your time in your room writing. And, um, also, could you clean up your room, please? Ick.

Believe me, most writers long to spend more time writing. And, yet, here on planet earth, unless you were born with a trust fund and don’t care about human interaction, you will not get to spend all of your time writing. You need to stop being so fucking delighted with yourself and learn to incorporate writing into your life. Because, no, it can’t, and won’t, go on like this forever.

Obviously different work styles work for different people. You may have to experiment with different methods before figuring out what works best for you. Maybe you’re someone who would work best with a schedule, so you know that you have a certain hour or set of hours each day or week to yourself to write, to trash your writing space, to go nuts. Or maybe you need to keep your weekends open so that you can run to your desk whenever you get the urge. Maybe you need to keep little notepads everywhere so you can write in between work and relationships and everyday this-and-that. Maybe you need to go away to writing residencies or retreats a few times a year. I know a woman who writes while her baby naps and I’ve known writers who have had to fit their writing in between multiple jobs. You’re lucky if you can fall hopelessly into the writing thing without worry about real life. You know that, right?

I want to also mention this: you say you don’t want to get a divorce, but then you add “(I think)” in there as an aside. I think you need to take the “I think” out of the parenthesis and examine it. Something is making you question your relationship. Are you using this newfound love of writing as an escape? Don’t just shake your head right away – think about it! I wonder if your relationship has gotten difficult or dull and writing is your new emotional outlet, and your escape. You need to give this some thought.

But mostly what I want to say to you is: enjoy the ride. I’ve been writing for so long that I don’t even remember that reckless new relationship phase. But I do understand the exhilaration. If you are a real writer, that will never go away, I promise.

Ah, love!

Your,

Fury