Creatives, like candles, can easily burn out.
Writing

Breaking the Curse of Creative Burnout

Let me start by clearing up some confusion from the get-go. Creative burnout is not the same as a creative block.

Writer’s block is sitting at your desk, staring at an empty page, yearning to write but unable to do so. You know the words are out there, but at the moment, they feel impossibly out of reach, no matter how far you stretch.

Writer burnout is sitting at your desk, staring at an empty page, and drowning in dread. It’s not words you’re yearning for, it’s hope. You’ve been running on empty for approximately an eternity. The words don’t just feel out of reach—they feel like they never existed in the first place. Worse, you hardly have the energy to miss them.

When you’re blocked, you want to write but can’t figure out what to write. When you’re burned out, you just can’t.

Author Fatigue: Why is Writing Exhausting?

The act of putting pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard, is far from physically exhausting, generally speaking. In fact, it’s far more likely for an author to forget to get moving than to accidentally get in shape while on the job.

And yet writing, like any act of creation, requires energy, and lots of it. Poring over research, plotting intricate storylines, carving believable characters out of thin air—these are just a few elements of the creative process that consume considerable brain power. There’s also the emotional toll of tearing your heart out, pinning it to the page, and then sending it out into the world to get ripped apart and rearranged as readers and publishers see fit.

Stress also takes a physical toll on us, and unless you’re writing purely for fun, the writer’s life is not always a bed of roses. Deadlines, creative hurdles, interruptions, financial concerns, scheduling issues, and other stressors tend to pile up over time, and can wreak real havoc on your health if not properly managed. This is especially true if you struggle with perfectionism, imposter syndrome, anxiety, depression, or other mental health issues.

Just like an athlete can injure themselves through overexertion, trying to “power through” creative exhaustion for too long without reprieve can lead to burnout.

Can You Cure Creative Burnout?

As I write this, I am still wading through the murky waters of burnout recovery, myself. It started… sometime last year. I can’t say exactly when. To repurpose one of my favorite Pride and Prejudice quotes: “I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot . . . which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun.”

That’s one of the dangerous things about burnout. It’s insidious. It sneaks up on you, silent as a cat, while you’re busy racing the clock to beat your next deadline. Every time you tell yourself, “Just hold on a little bit longer,” when you should be taking a break, it takes a step towards you. Every time you say, “I’m fine,” when you are anything but, it takes another step. By the time you start to wonder why you ever wanted to write in the first place, it’s already got its hands around your neck.

The best way to beat burnout is to prevent it. But if that ship has already sailed, take heart—you can get through it. The methods for both prevention and recovery boil down to basically the same things:

  1. Take care of yourself.
  2. Take better care of yourself.
  3. Don’t be so damn hard on yourself.
  4. Breathe.

At least, that’s what I’ve been working on. It’s hard to get more specific, because just like everyone’s creative process looks a little different, so too will recovery.

Many people recommend writing through burnout; I do not. As much as I love Ray Bradbury, I don’t take his famous advice to “write everyday” quite as literally as other folks do. I typically take weekends off to take care of my home, my social life, and myself. I also don’t push myself to write through serious illness (like my migraines) unless it’s absolutely vital—and it rarely is.

Burnout is a mental health problem. For me, it’s also a spiritual wound. I wound up taking a break from writing for several months when I realized just how burned out I really was. It sucked. I felt guilty for not writing, even though I knew that overworking was part of how I’d burned out in the first place. I felt disconnected from not only my work, but myself. I’d never experienced anything like it before, and if I never experience it again, it will be too soon.

But the point is, I asked myself what I needed to get better, and the answer was: a break. So I stopped writing. It wasn’t easy. It was even harder to start again. But I needed that break to rest, to heal, to let my mind wander far enough afield that it found the pieces of myself I’d lost while I was too busy working to notice. One day at a time, I put myself back together.

I’ve written before about getting back into writing after a long break. This process is largely the same across the board, regardless of why you took a break in the first place. But in the specific case of recovering from burnout, I’d also recommend the following:

  • Try therapy, or something like it. I signed up for a month of online therapy when burnout and other things that happened during the holidays overwhelmed me. I also broke down and finally bought myself a copy of The Artist’s Way and worked through the 12-week program one week at a time. To my surprise, it really did help me reconnect with my creativity and my reasons for writing.
  • Get curious about burnout. Reading this post is a good start. Keep going. My first steps towards recovery began with listening to lots of podcast episodes and reading quite a few articles about the causes of burnout and what to do about it. Don’t just adopt the first strategy you find—consider many different points of view and experiment. Find what works for you.
  • Explore other creative outlets. Before I decided to pursue writing as a career, I spent many years dreaming of (and studying to become) a visual artist. I used to love to draw and paint. Part of my recovery involved buying myself a new sketchpad and some paints and brushes. Creating just for fun, without any pressure or any intention to share my creations with others, felt good. It reminded me that I am more than just my words.

It will take time—something I realize can be a bit of a luxury, one I am grateful to have had access to at such a crucial point. If you rely on your writing for your main income, burnout isn’t just frustrating, it’s terrifying. If you’re in this situation, don’t panic. Take mini-breaks whenever you can. Negotiate with whomever you need to for deadline extensions. Take a sabbatical or even quit if you need to (and have the means to). If you don’t, consider whether you might be able to find a temporary alternative day job—something that will pay the bills but won’t drain what little creative energy you have left.

This can feel like giving up, but it’s not. Remember, you can come back to your writing whenever you’re ready. The words will wait for you.

Surviving Writer Burnout During Recovery

Recovering—from anything—is rarely easy. Even now that I’m back to writing, I’m still working through the healing process. It’s so frustrating to feel like you’re not living up to your own standards. It can feel way too much like failure.

But I’m more aware than ever that it’s vital for me to pace myself, and to be aware of and respect my own boundaries. Slow and steady progress is much more sustainable, and gets a lot more done in the long run, than rabid sprints followed by months of inactivity.

So I’m working on cultivating a more sustainable work-life balance, but I’m also practicing being kinder to myself. The number one thing that will get you through burnout and to the other side, after all, isn’t desperation or determination—it’s patience.

Kim Berkley is a fantasy author and narrative designer with too many ideas and too little time. Sign up for her newsletter to be the first to hear about her next big project, future beta reading opportunities, fun freebies, and more.

Writer, gamer, geek. Author of The Harbinger's Head, chiaroscuro, and more.