NOTE: I now write regularly (every Sunday and often more) on Substack. But I’m trying to keep this blog up to date as well, because it still gets a lot of traffic. So I’ll be copying and pasting my weekly love letters here. But if you want the full effect–over on Substack I also offer book reviews, and lots of links to writerly things and personal recommendations. And in November, I’ll be hosting open office hours every Wednesday, where you can get your writing questions answered. See you there! And now, for this week’s love letter.

Hi lovies,

I’ve been mooning about all afternoon. It’s Friday as I write this, and here in Portland, we’re having an atmospheric river, which basically means rain. Lots of rain. Endless rain. Drenching rain. I actually rather like it. It’s cozy and warm at my desk with the little space heater beneath it (and often Chip the pug at my feet, too.) My desk is well lit and I got it somewhat organized last weekend1. But I would have liked it a whole helluva lot better if I hadn’t been stumped on what to write for this love letter.

As is my wont, I thought back over the week, pondering what writing tidbits, problems, or topics arose, with me and other writers I know. I thought about what I’d done and worked on, searching for a lively topic that might inspire or motivate. Here’s the rundown:

• I adulted, dealing with some thorny2 financial issues.
• I went out to dinner with writers on two separate evenings.
• I worked on Let’s Go Write stuff and things and wrote a long post about our Wells, England writing workshop.
• I coached a writer friend on getting back to his writing practice.
• I wrote 1K words on my novel every morning.

Not the stuff of what inspiration is made of. Okay, the social events were pretty great, and so was the coaching session. And I’m really happy about my daily novel writing. But relating most of that would be boring to you, my beloved readers. (Except for the coaching session part. But that’s between me and my friend. Everything that goes on in a coaching session remains private. I can pull out general themes and ideas, as I do below, but nothing specific to my client.) So I kept thinking. And as I thought, I roved across the interwebs. Saw a post titled, Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway, and pondered how fear lands differently for writers and thought I could write about that. I even started it. But it was, you guessed it, boring.

Which is when it hit me.

Boring is good.

Boring is really good.

Because boring in my life means that is it routine, that things are rolling along, that I have the mental bandwidth to commit to my writing.

That is because this is my season for writing.

And things have fallen by the wayside. My house, for example, has many things that need tending. Not happening at the moment. My coaching is less vital than usual, because I’m waiting on a few clients to be ready for my services. (No rush, guys.) And did I mention it was raining? So I feel less compelled to spend time outdoors.

Which is all contributing to me getting to claim this as a season for writing. (1K words every morning.)

A hard (but refreshing) truth is this: we can only do so many things at once. Back in the day, it was common for women to talk about how we could only keep control of a certain number of things. Let’s say we separate our life into buckets. There’s a bucket for family and loved ones, a bucket for career, a bucket for friends and social life, a bucket for tending to home, a bucket for adulting, a bucket for creative endeavors. Damn, I’m exhausted just writing all those out.

And that’s the point.

During one season, you may be spending lots of time with loved ones and your social life. Christmas and the winter holidays come to mind. During another, maybe you are thrust into a caregiving role. (Hello and I salute you, beloved sister.) And during yet another, maybe the good ole J.O.B. needs most of your attention. Or perhaps you’re struggling with chronic pain or had a recent surgery.3

If you’re lucky, if you’re really lucky, as I am at the moment, maybe one season you’ll get to focus hard on your creative projects—i.e., your writing.

But you’re probably not going to be able to tend to all of them. No everything everywhere all at once. It just can’t be done. And life will be easier, and you’ll be happier, if you accept that and roll with it.

If you are in a season where there’s not time or mental bandwidth for writing, I’m sorry. Shit happens. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t offer a few suggestions to ease your mind. First of all, trust. If it’s your story to tell, it will wait for you. Think of it as a child away at school, or a friend taking a sabbatical in Europe. You’d text her, you might call or zoom, or Face Time with him. You’d check in, maybe even, gasp, write a letter. So, too, with your story. Open one of your chapter files once in a while and give it a scan. Scribble some notes on your phone. Write about it in your morning pages.

And if you do happen to be in a season of writing, get the hell off the internet and go write. That’s what I’m going to do.

Love, light, and good writing,

Charlotte

P.S. Feel free to leave a comment here, or hop on over to my Substack to engage with the community there. It’s a great group!