I think the past year has been difficult, creatively, for a lot of us. I wrote a tenth in 2020 of what I did in 2019, and it made me feel terrible. So I tried to think of why, why was it so impossible for me to write when I had more time than ever to do it?
I think, for me, it was this:
Learning the rules of living in a pandemic takes effort. It’s like driving an unfamiliar car, in theory it’s the same – and you’re able to do it, but it takes so much more brainpower than driving the car you’re used to. That brainpower has to come from somewhere, and it leaves less energy for creative thoughts.
And then, after I learned the rules, it’s been a full year lacking in inspiration. We didn’t get to go into the world among other people, we didn’t get to see arguments or kisses or everyday interactions of other people. We didn’t go on dates or attend parties or talk at length with strangers. I’ve recently managed to write something again, and I noticed when reading through it, that it’s very introspective. I don’t have as many characters in my writing as did before, and they don’t interact as much as they used to. Because I don’t interact as much as I used to. Writing and creativity lives off inspiration, and when what we do is spend evenings, weekends and vacations stuck at home (maybe with the exception of going to work or the grocery store) there aren’t any new inspirations for us to draw from.
Of course, there is also the effect on mental health. It takes a toll, to lose routines, human touch, smiles, social interaction and more. It takes a toll to be afraid, and angry, and sad. I’ve found myself feeling a constant low-level dissociation (probably because my brain shut down to protect me from feeling the grief, horror, anxiety and loss I felt whenever I read the news those first few months), and it’s made it really hard to engage emotionally with a story.
Knowing why I couldn’t write didn’t magically make me start writing, but it helped me forgive myself. In the six months where I wasn’t able to write a single word it helped me realize that it wasn’t a permanent thing. I hadn’t lost my ability or motivation to write forever.
