This is a newsletter about being creative, being stuck, and what to do about it.
Hi. I'm Erinn, and like you, I’m a lot of things: I'm a yoga instructor, a bonus parent, a librarian, a gardener, an artist....& I am a writer in a long, LONG pause.
So long in fact, that I’ve questioned whether I’m a writer anymore….more often than I’d like to admit.
After I earned my MFA in writing, I produced work at an exhilarating, insatiable pace. We’re talking an entire book of poems in a single summer, a novel in 9 months, a hugely popular website about creativity and libraries with multiple new interviews and articles per week, nonfiction titles written back and forth with my brilliant co-author in week-long, coffee-fueled sprints.
I was writing all the time. And then…I wasn’t.
While drafting this welcome note to you, I’ve struggled to define exactly when my Long Pause began, because it happened in fits and starts, and accumulated over time.
Maybe it began in 2010, when I started experiencing serious health issues and spent most of my free time in doctor’s offices for nearly 3 years.
Or maybe it began in 2014, when I finished a draft of a novel and moved across the country with whatever I could fit in my car to take a dream job as a librarian. That’s when I started being afraid to open the folder where my novel lives, despite the encouragement and feedback of instructors, beta readers and even writing coaches and agents.
2018 when I became part of a blended family and plunged headfirst into parent-adjacent constraints and commitments?
Or 2019, when the last book I published came out and I realized I had nothing–nothing–in the hopper?
Or maybe it was when I was finally diagnosed with PTSD in 2021, mid-pandemic, and embarked on a long long road of EMDR with my therapist (Hi, Heather!).
Depending on how you look at it, my Long Pause might be a raging toddler…or a raging teenager. Either way, I’ve been talking about creative blocks for a long time. I’ve noticed that when it comes to a Long Pause, we talk about it like it’s a wasteland one must traverse as quickly as possible without contracting dysentery or getting bitten by a snake. It’s understood that if you do make it through, you should never, ever look back.
But no one talks about how maybe, the thing you need most is to, um… pause. And maybe, this is normal? Because creativity isn't science; it's more like magic, or love. It just IS, and you can’t always explain how it works.
Creativity isn’t science; it’s more like magic, or love. It just IS.
I’m old enough now that I understand our lives have seasons. It might be that my season as an exuberant, prolific, multi-genre writer is done. Or maybe it’s not; I don’t know. What I do know is that the ache of *not writing* when you want to, of not being *able* to write…hurts. It just feels awful. And that pain is compounded by shame and fear and loneliness.
So, here’s the deal. At The Long Pause, we’re going to say the quiet part loud. It’s going to be the entire point. I think if we can talk about our Long Pauses, we can learn from them together. At the very least, we can stop feeling so alone as we find our way through the wilderness.
Here’s what I plan to share with you:
⏸️ interviews with writers, artists, and creatives of all stripes who have weathered (or are still weathering) a significant, involuntary break in their creative work for more than a year
⏪ posts that dig into research and writing on creativity
⏩ community celebrations of new work after a Long Pause
▶️ conversations and practices that center the full experience of being a creative person…even when you're not making the work you want to be making.
And here’s how you can help:
Who do you know who has weathered a Long Pause? Maybe you know someone who is still in one– maybe that someone is you. Reach out– let’s tell your story.