What this Spoonie Learned During Quarantine and How it Can Help YOU Write by Winter Krane (@WinterKrane)
When I meet new people, I get asked one inevitable question:
"How do you find time to write with five kids?"
I'll tell you right now—This is small talk. They aren't actually asking, just like "Nice weather, huh?" doesn't require anyone's opinion.
This means my answer can be equally simple.
"I make it a priority." Bam! We're done here—next topic.
But WRITERS, they want to know. This 2020 quarantine had even me asking that same question.
...Only this time, the answer was:
I can't.
Why I couldn't write
*If you want to know why I couldn't write, read on.
In a hurry? Skip ahead to: "Winter Krane's Writing Plan for When You're Not Writing."
I first heard about COVID-19 when I was sick in bed.
Sick days are a relief. My body has something to fight that isn't me, and I'm dealing with symptoms that are—mercifully—easy to explain.
I have an undiagnosed autoimmune disorder that started showing up around the time I was ten, getting worse with age. On my worst days, all my joints lock up, taking my mobility, and leaving me helpless until fatigue takes over, knocking me out.
TRDL: I'm a Spoonie.
Now before I go on, please know I'm okay. I have doctors and an amazingly supportive husband who battles this with me. He brings me my medications, goes to my appointments, holds my hand. He's my alpha reader, my cheerleader, my encourager. We also have five kids that we homeschool. Lucky for me, they take after Daddy—always checking in, making dinner when I can't—telling me to rest.
If I had one complaint about my situation, it would be that my husband works—a lot. 56-hour work weeks aren't uncommon. That makes it harder for me to find time to write but—to put it simply—the kids and I miss him.
So! There I was, sick in bed when I heard about COVID-19. Let me be clear—I'm broken-hearted over what the world was going through, BUT selfishly I had reason to be excited. I imagined family time—my husband home with us. I could already see prolonged bedtime stories with my kids as we all huddled up in blanket forts. Or two parents helping with school, that would mean work done in half the time!
And for me, that would mean time to write.
Oh, summer-child.
How
wrong
I
was.
Somehow my imagination glossed over the fact that my husband is an essential worker. And he was working with people who were assumed to have the ‘Rona. He started sleeping in a different side of the house not to expose us, showering as soon as he got home. Good morning kisses were replaced with more overtime.
Fantastic.
There I was—in the middle of quarantine with five kids—antsy kids who couldn’t see their friends, go to the park or beach, and we all missed dad.
I still tried to write, but my computer’s appearance was the pavlovian signal for disaster. Then somewhere between picking gum from my daughters' hair and re-climbing Mt. Laundry-more, I'd get a ping on my phone. What else could it be—but a notification on Twitter from someone's mawkish tweet about how "You’re only a writer if you write." (Queue inward screaming).
And then my health took another turn. Over half my teeth became loose. No cavity, no visible problem with my gums. Just teeth planning an escape route to the tooth fairy. There I was, chewing carefully as a cow because—everything hurt—and all I wanted for Christmas was my two front teeth. This made me popular with a whole new set of doctors. But hey—even if my teeth don’t want to stick around—new friends!
Social secret: My unknown autoimmune disorder is my wingman—getting me all the phone numbers...of doctors I need to call...but still! Digits!
Any time I had left over was divided between homeschool, appointments, sleeping or—more importantly—being Mom.
At first, I cried. I was facing an amputation from creativity. But self-pity is a dangerous horse to ride, especially as a Spoonie. Not only does depression take away spoons, but it likes to get comfortable and stay longer then you invited it.
And so—it was time to write—without writing.
—I present to you—
Winter Krane's Writing Plan
for When You're Not Writing
In seven easy steps!
Step One: Accept that you're still a writer when you're not writing.
That’s NOT an inspirational tactic- it's crucial.
Most people would disagree with step one’s statement because they confuse "can't write" with "won't." The reason they do that is “won’t” often is the real problem. It feels like everyone I talk to wants to write a book “someday.”
I’m not talking to someday writers. I’m talking to writers who are in a season of their life that won’t let them write. This kind of “you just won’t” mindset ignores those struggling with loss, depression, health—the people who would write if they could.
So! If you know you want to write, but it’s not possible right now, then you’re still a writer—words on the page don't dictate you.
—Still think that’s bogus? I know—I sound like I’m promoting Professor Hill’s “Think System,” but look at ANY other creative craft, and you'll see what I mean. For example, an opera singer is still an opera singer when they're not on stage, AND THEY KNOW IT. They treat their voice with care like hydration, constant temperature for their vocal cords, practicing scales. Their voice is their instrument. You, my dear writer, are your own creative instrument—the words that you write are the performance.
Step Two: Be mindful.
Ever read a tweens poem about love? They’re painfully generic because they’re at a stage in life where they haven’t truly experienced romance.
If life is getting in the way of your writing, then you—my writer friend—you’ve hit the jackpot. It means you’re in the middle of REAL-LIFE EXPERIENCE—this is the stuff novels are made of. Don’t tell me your life is boring. Boring things are beautiful when someone captures them in words. And no: “I write about X, so it won’t help.” Even if you’re writing holographic unicorns in Candyland, all writing relates to life—and right now, you’re smack dab in the middle of it. Pay attention. Keep mental notes on what you see, smell, feel, think, and taste. Hold on to that, because each experience makes up your voice.
Step Three: Force new experiences.
When you run out of things to pay attention to, it’s time to make new things happen. I don’t know what you’ve done in your life, or how many years you’ve lived, but new experiences are everywhere. You’ll never know what will help you in your writing later. It can be as simple as picking up one food you haven’t tried when you go shopping to waxing your armpits. MAKE yourself think of possibilities.
What did I do? I shaved my head.
...I had no idea that my skull’s five o’clock-shadow would feel so prickly when I slept.
Step Four: Write with your mind.
Okay—now that you’re mindful and worn out on all the new things—you can’t take it anymore. I understand. Life can be too real. You need to escape. How about an imagination vacation?
I don’t think writers use their imagination enough. We all accept that our minds create books, but when was the last time you played pretend? Judge me if you want, but I write all day, every day in my head and I’ve been doing it since childhood. When I was a kid doing dishes, I pretended I was Cinderella washing up after my stepsisters. As an adult, I’m envisioning chapter play-by-plays as I stir soup over the stove. When I CAN write, I type them up, but for now, I just start over, repeating the story in my mind. Sometimes I imagine it in a whole new way. Sometimes I’m repeating everything to be sure I don’t forget.
Are you a plotter/outliner? Go over your outline, expanding where you can. Are you a pantser/discovery writer? Imagine your characters, have fun figuring out who they’ll be. Have aphantasia? Speak your story! Bonus points if you record yourself because you could use text to speech and have actual words on a page to work with later!
Remember in step one we established that words on the page don’t define you? Now’s your chance to be a writer without words, even if you don’t get any books written down, you’re exercising your mind, teaching it to think in story.
Step Five: Add OTHER PEOPLE’S CREATIVITY to YOUR WELL.
One of my favorite writing songs is “Mof the Story” by Watsky. I recommend you check it out...if you don’t mind foul language. The best line in the song?
“If I need to—I’ll go through you—and absorb your ******* powers.”
Writers luck out. We can digest the work of our peers and those who came before us by opening a book. I can’t write before I fall asleep, it wakes up my brain, but I can read. You can’t read right now? I get it but...
If I can’t read, I can listen to audiobooks.
If I can’t dedicate myself to all those hours, I can watch a movie.
If I can’t watch a movie, I can change the background noise by letting writing classes and book breakdowns play on YouTube, listening repeatedly, picking up random parts.
—Off the cuff, I’d recommend:
Brandon Sanderson’s lectures on writing
A series of college lectures about Science Fiction and fantasy writing that are so in depth I’d recommend them to most fiction authors- no matter their genre.
Interviews with Screen writers—talking about the craft. These have a plethora of in-depth, eyeopening information on craft.
Marines is a booktuber—a person who talks about books they’ve read, reviewing them on YouTube. There are so many people that do this all with different tastes and thoughts, keeping us writers connected with readers and keeping up with books we might want to enjoy or avoid. *Warning- watching booktubers may make you drool over all the books you discover you NEED in your collection.
A young adult fantasy writer who posts “Writerly” videos for writers.
The Write Channel with Nicola Monaghan
This is a smorgasbord of creative writing videos, from top tips with famous writers to vlog chats with Nicola herself on her process. I’ve linked her video that starts off with my favorite Neil Gaiman clips.
Kate has an amazing series where she follows writing routines from other authors and tries them out for a day. She often has me laughing.
This is in no way an exhaustive list of people I watch, let alone people who upload writer content. Feel free to add your favorites in the comments, not only of other writers, but for me! I’d love to hear suggestions!
Step Six: Do something that reminds you you're a writer.
The first time I couldn’t write, far before COVID-19, I got a cheap box dye and made my hair red. Why? Because it reminded me of my favorite fictional writer, Anne Sherly. (Did you really expect an answer that made sense from me?) Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw myself and a little bit of Anne.
As silly as it was, this kept me hyped for the times I’d get to write later.
I don’t know what this means for you. Maybe you need to get yourself a pretty journal to fill when you get a chance. Perhaps doodle “I’m a writer” on post-it-notes and stick them on your fridge. Or maybe it’s as small as hanging your favorite writing cardigan next to your chair.
This can be the equivalent of dressing for work even when you don’t have a job. You’re letting yourself know you have plans when you’re out of this slump.
Step seven: Reach out.
I remember a post I found from a writer who was struggling. He was a new father, and his wife was going through a serious health scare. In between his job, caring for his wife and his newborn, all his free time was used for sleep. In an open post he asked other writers how they write through times like this. The majority answer was—we don’t.
But you know what—after getting confirmation that there are times life kicks you away from your desk—he wasn’t alone.
Whatever you’re going through, it’s okay to talk about it.
That concludes my list. I do have one more thing to say—but it’s dangerous. You must keep trying to write. Sometimes the act of trying when you can’t will cause a spiral of depression. But this isn’t something to beat yourself up over. Making attempts is far more important than success. I repeat: DON’T BE HARD ON YOURSELF—not yet—save that part for editing.
Because you will write again.
*All artwork used throughout this piece was created by the writer.
If you enjoyed this piece, please follow Winter Krane on Twitter @WinterKrane.