Nowhere to Hide in my Head
Well . . . I am having a helluva crappy day. And to shake my mood, I am listening to Bob Dylan. A song from when you could sort of understand him. You know the song THINGS HAVE CHANGED? ("A worried man with a worried mind . . .")
You know, I used to have a day job. I was even good at it. I worked at a publishing house as a senior editor, then I spent some time working for a corporation as a writer, then worked as the marketing manager for a dysfunctional computer company (what is that, you ask? one in which said marketing manager was the pawn between overbearing, drunken CEO and his angry daughter who was appointed president). The thing is, I could never get to the office on time. They tolerated that because my output was that of two or three employees without even blinking. But I was the one putting on my pantyhose in the parking lot and my makeup on in my rearview mirror or on the subway. I hated it--the subway, the rats marching off to the office. The fact that I couldn't blast Dylan at the highest volume and dance in my pajamas while going to go get a beer in the fridge after a bad day--or during a bad day. Beholden to "the man." :-)
BUT . . . . BUT . . . . when you have a bad day as a writer, where do you go to escape? I cannot tell you how many times I have thought I was done for the night, only to get up at 10:30 p.m. and compulsively come downstairs to re-read something that's not quite working. My work is here, here, here all the time. And when I'm having a bad day . . . no escape!! It's HERE!
So I think my biggest escape tends to be music. Sometimes I physically LEAVE just so I don't have to deal with it. Sometimes I blog about it. Sometimes I call my best friend to talk and cry. But in the end, I can't exactly quit. I suppose I could go look for a day job--maybe even a place that tolerates Bob Dylan and pjs. Or at least iPods and jeans. But . . . nah. Not me. Plus, I've already cashed those advance checks.
So what do you do when there's no escaping your wip? Or (as in my case today) annoying shit that's part of being a writer?
You know, I used to have a day job. I was even good at it. I worked at a publishing house as a senior editor, then I spent some time working for a corporation as a writer, then worked as the marketing manager for a dysfunctional computer company (what is that, you ask? one in which said marketing manager was the pawn between overbearing, drunken CEO and his angry daughter who was appointed president). The thing is, I could never get to the office on time. They tolerated that because my output was that of two or three employees without even blinking. But I was the one putting on my pantyhose in the parking lot and my makeup on in my rearview mirror or on the subway. I hated it--the subway, the rats marching off to the office. The fact that I couldn't blast Dylan at the highest volume and dance in my pajamas while going to go get a beer in the fridge after a bad day--or during a bad day. Beholden to "the man." :-)
BUT . . . . BUT . . . . when you have a bad day as a writer, where do you go to escape? I cannot tell you how many times I have thought I was done for the night, only to get up at 10:30 p.m. and compulsively come downstairs to re-read something that's not quite working. My work is here, here, here all the time. And when I'm having a bad day . . . no escape!! It's HERE!
So I think my biggest escape tends to be music. Sometimes I physically LEAVE just so I don't have to deal with it. Sometimes I blog about it. Sometimes I call my best friend to talk and cry. But in the end, I can't exactly quit. I suppose I could go look for a day job--maybe even a place that tolerates Bob Dylan and pjs. Or at least iPods and jeans. But . . . nah. Not me. Plus, I've already cashed those advance checks.
So what do you do when there's no escaping your wip? Or (as in my case today) annoying shit that's part of being a writer?
posted by Erica Orloff at 6:16 PM
19 Comments:
Well, speaking as one of those day-jobbers, I would have to say just get out and go for a walk. Fresh air, a change of scenery, some other noises than house noises would make a difference for me. Hell, I even do that at the job.
And, as for escaping... well, I work in computers, so I never really have an escape.
P.S. Sorry you are having a crappy day. Here's a virtual hug for you {HUG}
Hey Ewoh:
Thanks. I do need to get out in the fresh air more--something our mutual blog friend Heather brewer recommends!
This book I am working on, the first in a trilogy, is very dark, and the hero is an addict. And he realizes grief and addiction are these dysfunctional lovers in his life. And he is really, really, in a dark spot. Which just matched the CRAP that was going on here . . . and which matched my mood over some news items (I really need to stop reading the NY Times every day!). Then I spent last night visiting adoption websites . . . looking at children who are "waiting kids"--those that aren't "perfect" and are languishing waiting for a home. And I tell myself if one of them is meant to be mine, it will happen. But damn if I don't think fifty of them are meant to be mine!!!!! :-)
E
P.S.
And I have to say, my virtual friends are a blessing I count each day. I can't tell you for the occasional troll I meet (which happened to day--a nasty anonymous comment) how many GREAT people are out there. Thanks!!!!!!
My advice?
Drink heavily.
No, just kidding. I'm reminded here of what Lily Tomlin said about the rat race: Even if you win, you're still a rat.
Day jobs just suck the big one. Sometimes I'm tempted to sell everything I own and go live at a fish camp like the protag in my novel. So far I've resisted the urge, but it might happen some day. What's your sanity worth, you know?
As it is, I work very hard to pay bills and maintain a decent lifestyle, but sometimes I feel like I'm just feeding some insatiable monster of a machine.
I have enough sense to know I'm probably wrong about this, but right now I feel that if I were ever lucky enough to write for a living I wouldn't complain about anything ever again.
Good advice from Ewoh about fresh air and exercise. It's one of the best medicines I know of.
Jude:
BELIEVE me, I SO know I don't want a day job!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love, love, love getting to write full-time. But definitely there's a danger of not setting boundaries because it's always there. And I have latent workaholic tendencies counterbalanced by an overactive imagination.
And four kids. And sole breadwinner. So man do I know the creativity better not take a header. Or the python will have to have her diet curtailed. Let alone the dogs and birds. And the fish. :-)
E
Erica: Here's what Winston "Papa" Fell, Nicholas Colt's friend and "surrogate father" in my wip, says about the news:
“You know I don’t watch that shit. Too fucking depressing. I already know something terrible happened somewhere today. Why do I need some punk wearing makeup to tell me the details. Same shit, different day. I could plug in a tape from twenty years ago and it would be the same damn--”
“Don’t you care about what’s going on in the world?” I said.
“Fuck the world. I know there’s a war somewhere. I know someone got raped, robbed, stabbed, kidnapped or murdered. If it didn’t happen on this here porch, I ain’t going to dwell on it. It’s too loud, and I’m too old. Know what I mean?”
“Sure. Anyway, you want to hear about the case I been working on?”
His view is exaggerated for sake of character, of course, but some days I feel like that. :)
Jude:
THANK YOU! I loved that. And it's so authentic. You really need to finish that damn book, you know. I'm going to be a thorn in your side until you do.
xo
E
Working on it, love. :)
Hi Erica,
I wanted to comment on your latest blog..but I got so interested in reading your other entries..that when I did write you...I wrote on the Writers' Cramp entry..:-)
You are a delight to read...and I hope that you have a much better day tomorrow.
~S.
Hang in there Erica!! I used to say, at my old day job, that crappy days would alternate with great ones. (It was my personal superstition) So you are due for a great one tomorrow LOL
Seriously, crappy days suck. Hope tomorrow's a better one.
Michele
Sandra:
Thanks! :-) I now have to go check that out.
E
Michele:
LOL! Thanks. Today is starting out much better already. I woke up and had a chat with the Writing Gods, God in general, the Universe, Buddha, whoever or whatever was listening. Good day to come. :-)
E
Erica, I'm sorry to hear you went through that, but it sounds like things are turning around for you now. You're not ever alone in feeling this way.
Hugs,
Michele
I blog a lot when the writing isn't going well. I think I'm 'finding' the muse again by doing other kind of writing.
Yes, another reason to blog. LOL.
I'm late reading this, so I can't join the effort to pull you out of your mood. But I'm very happy to hear that it only took a day to rid yourself of the bad one.
I always say EVERY job, dream job or not, has its good and its bad, and we're lucky if we get one where the good is bigger.
But it does sound like you need to devise a way to "get away from it" when you need to. For me, it has become TV, something I'd NEVER have expected before this year. I've also ended up with a set schedule--work until the kids come home, then concentrate on them until they go to bed, then have leisure time--which can be watching TV or reading or going to bed early or (rarely) going out with friends. It helps a lot in those times when the bad stuff gets me down.
May:
I do the same thing! I think it's like keeping a journal. At least I am WRITING, even if it's not the wip.
E
Hi Natalie:
Don't laugh . . . my college roomie is going to teach me to KNIT!
Expect scarves, people!
E
Not laughing! You are such a blend of viewpoints, beliefs, and interests that I wouldn't even be surprised if you took up shuffleboard. :)
(That's a compliment, BTW--not that you'd take it as otherwise, but some readers might think I was dissing you.)
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