And now for something slightly different

You know what I hate? Pressure. I don’t even like massages. Going to work at the same time every day sends me round the bend, and it’s in no small part why I became a writer. (That and I really hate stability, apparently.)

So for reasons known only to the ADHD goblins that run my brain, I set up a substack with a schedule. I gave myself deadlines no one asked for and then spent a year in a panic about not meeting them.

It’s the first year in seven years that I haven’t written a book. Now, to be fair, I was probably overdoing it, and at least three of those books weren’t published, but still. The work was seeing the world too quickly and it was killing it.

I have always written my best work in the face of adversity, though I suspect it was not the adversity itself, but the solitude, that prompted that. My best stuff comes from not being looked at directly, from long fallow periods and zero pressure. Is this because I don’t like to spook the art? Or is it because the very act of making art is something I’ve used as a way to survive for my whole life? As so many of us do?

I kept thinking, I just need a break. Then a break would end and I’d not feel remotely rested having spent it battling with to-do lists, taxes, a broken appliance, a divorce, health issues, manuscripts going wrong. It almost seemed like the perfect conditions to write would never arrive?!

A teacher once told me that maybe my problem could be my character’s problem. This is a piece of advice I’ve kept and warped for my use as desired, and it has served me well.

Can I be both the problem and the solution? Well I can damn well try.

We are living in times of crisis. The words climate, housing, and mental health, all immediately bring the word crisis to mind. This can be overwhelming, and one might wonder how anyone can dedicate time to creativity when there are so many more seemingly pressing needs. However, as long as there have been writers, there has been adversity. Whether personal or globally, a writer grapples with the struggles and joys of the human race in their work.

So, welcome to Creation in Crisis. I’ll still write about motherhood and mammals and the climate and poetry, but I’ll mainly be using this space to discuss and engage with others and how/why to create through these times.

I won’t try to teach you anything and I’ll still post pictures of the main crises of my life: my cats.

P.S. is this green too green? I think it’s too green. I might change it.