On Hangovers

“I feel like I have a hangover, without all the happy memories and mystery bruises."”

Ellen DeGeneres

JAN: When I was a full-time reporter, I'd have days when I'd work an eleven hour day to meet my deadline on a takeout on, say, say downtown development, the power of the bank lobby, or some other wide-ranging topic that required a lot of steamlining and double-checking. I noticed that even though I'd come to work the next day, I was entirely useless. My brain was fried. I had a writing hangover.

It made me wonder about those proclamations by scientists that we really only use ten percent of our brains. It felt like I'd actually used up my brain, and now it had to rest.

I mention that because I recently had to work a crazy schedule to get my latest book, Teaser, to my publisher to meet my deadline. (that's the twice extended deadline, not the first one.) Okay, I worked weekends and late hours the final two weeks, but everyone who writes seems to do that. That was almost a month ago, and I still don't feel like writing.

Luckly, my next project, which is non-fiction, requires a lot of upfront research. This allows me to spend my days reading and writing lists, which feels like luxury.

But I'm wondering. Have the rest of you experienced writing hangovers, or am I just a writing wimp?

ROBERTA: oh definitely! Big hangover here! I wonder if some of it doesn't have to do with our over-connectedness too. There was an essay in the New York Times style section this Sunday about a guy forcing himself to take a day off from email, phones, etc every week. And another essay in MORE magazine about a woman taking a month-long email hiatus. We're not just writing books, we're writing email constantly. And blogs. And reading listservs. And planning conferences and promotions. No wonder our poor brains are tired.

I went to see a movie about a New York man and his psychoanalyst in January. After the show, the author came out to answer questions. Someone asked if being a writer impinged on his real life. I thought it was a silly question until I heard him talk about how he's always in the process of observing and cataloging events to use in his fiction. Yes of course you're tired! Take a brain vacation--you deserve it!

HALLIE: I just turned a revision of "Baby, Baby" in to my editor and I confess, for me it doesn't feel like hangover so much as postpartum depression. I mean you work on a manuscript practically 7 days a week for (in this case) nearly two years, and then COLD TURKEY.
And I'm not someone who writes feverishly at the end. I can't handle the stress of it. I'm nearly always ready before I need to be and spend the last few days/week polishing.

Now, literally two days after, I'm ready to be thinking about the next novel but not no how ready to be writing it. Fortunately I have the book reviewing gig and some freelance magazine work which make a perfect palate cleanser (is this, in hangover terms, "the hair of the dog" cure?)

RO: Jeez, I'm still so new at this that I'm still indulging and haven't experienced the hangover yet. Maybe this is comparable...I worked so long and hard on my presentation for the Philadelphia Flower Show that once it was over I felt as if I was 10 lbs lighter. (It went well but I felt so much pressure that I'm glad it's done. If I don't use Powerpoint for another year that's okay with me.)

HANK: Hmm. No hangover here, either. (Maybe I'm not working hard enough.) I'm like Ro (hurray!). I'm so focused on what I have to get done, and so thrilled when it works, that I'm dancing around when it's over. Like the storm clouds of responsibility and looming performance have lifted. (And we're the newbies, too, I guess.)

I'm also so used to working, you know, that when I'm finished, I feel as if I must be forgetting something. When I turned in the synopsis for Drive Time, my brain was still churning about it. And I'd literally stop and remember--wait, that's already submitted. You did it. And then I'd do a little hip wiggle (I was generally alone, thankfully, at those times) and go on to whatever I was supposed to do next.

People always say--you've got to stop. Hmm. I'd worry if there were nothing.

But! At my office, at the station, my producer and I do have a sign that we post on our door from time to time. Generally after we've aired a big story. It says:

** Sorry, we're closed. Brains FULL.**

On Email

"No fear. No distractions. The ability to let that which does not matter truly slide."

Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club, 1996

I'm starting to believe that email is a writer's worst enemy. It could be the enemy of anyone who works at home, or on a computer, but I think writers are the most vulnerable to its stealthy attack.

Here's why. If you are a writer, answering email feels like you are working. You are typing, after all. And sometimes it is work, but other times it's just conversation. And even if it is important work, it's still a distraction.

For writers, who love to communicate through writing, its an incredibly tempting distraction. In fact, it's much more fun to answer email than to remain stuck in the middle of a scene that isn t working, or wrestle with a feature story that's overly complex. I'm fairly convinced I've acquired ADD (attention deficit disorder) from checking and rechecking my email.

Clearly I'm lacking in mental self-discipline, so I've tried other solutions. With my old computer, I could take out the wireless card and put it in the basement. With my new computer, the wireless is built in. I've tried disabling the software, but it's too easy re-enable to be an effective deterrent. I've even tried unplugging the modem and shutting the whole system down, only my neighbor's wireless isn't secured, so my computer automatically started picking up my email through her system.

When people buy Blackberries or the I-Phone for the ability to connect to the web, I think they are insane. The last thing I'd ever want is mobile access to my email.

So is email a problem for anyone else, and if it is, have you found a solution?

HANK: There's no question I'm addicted to email. I always think: there might be good news. And I can't wait to see it. I physically miss it when I don't check. It's ridiculous.

So. When I'm writing, I turn off the little music that comes up to announce I have new mail. I've realized I'm a perfect Pavlovian specimen when it comes to that little sound. It bings, and I can't stand it. I have to look. So I just turn off the sound.

I also set a time. When I'm writing, I can only look at the email once an hour, and I choose the time, very specifically. It's now--4:16. I can look at my email again at 5:16. I obey myself. This actually works.

My email has a little indicator where you can put a red flag on stuff you absolutely must respond to. Every one of mine is flagged, so that doesn't work at all.

Because it's true: the amount of time you can spend on email expands to fill the amount of time you have. I could do it all day, every day. And not be finished. Never, ever be finished.
And sometimes I power through a bunch of correspondence...and feel very virtuous. Then I wonder--did any of that matter?

Gotta go. I heard a bing.

RO:It's very easy to convince yourself that checking email, or Myspace or voicemail or whatever is "working." I think of it as working "light". It's not really working, but it's closer to it than going shopping, or kayaking or any number of things that you might be doing. It may be a problem if you do it every day or for more than an hour a day but, I think I have it under control. I can quit anytime I like, as they say....

HALLIE: Sure you can.

Actually email is like "research," or Marbles (my husband got me hooked on it after I took Solitaire off my system) -- the thing I do to put off writing. Then again, maybe email addiction is nature's way of keeping us from pouring too much dross onto the pages.

Related question--how come the more I have on my plate, the more I get done? I open email nine thousand times on a day when all I have to do is write fiction. When I've got an article due and training materials to write and work for a client and and and...I may not open email at all.

TEST:
Do you check the mail that gets automatically shunted to your SPAM or SCREENED mail folder?
If an email shows up in your SPAM or SCREENED MAIL folder with the topic GREAT NEWS, can you NOT open it??
If you get an email dated three minutes ago, do you put off replying because the person will think all you do all day is email???

RO: Yes, yes, no. But, uh, did you just post this...does that mean all I do all day is...

HANK: Yes. Yes, easy to ignore. (But if one says: 'Congratulations!' That's harder.Also if one says: 'Why did you miss the meeting?' I generally fall for that one. And, no. (I feel great if I happen to be able to answer quickly. That's one more thing I "accomplished.")

JAN: No. No. (always skeptical) Yes. You think there's a 12-step program that can help me?