Post partum

I’ve been in a funk the past couple of weeks. I couldn’t figure out why for the longest time. Was it my birthday, which by the way was last Friday? Nah. Nothing is more anticlimactic than turning 41. There is no more boring age on Earth. 41? Who thought of such a ridiculous number? Can’t we pretend it never happened? Ignore the prime-numbered years? 41. Bah.

It wasn’t the birthday, but the birthday didn’t help. I was not in the mood to celebrate. This is unlike me. My family was alarmed. Scott insisted that surely I wanted to do something, and in response I shouted “STOP ASKING ME” and ran to my room, weeping. Then my mom called to demand to know what I wanted to do and I said “Nothing” and she said, “Well, but SOMETHING” and I wailed “NOTHING” and “NO ONE GETS ME” and braces sprouted back onto my teeth and no one asked me to the prom, again. This birthday was complicated!

My actual birthday day was actually nice. (That is the best sentence I have ever written. History, take note.) Henry wrote me an amazing poem, and I just asked him if I could share it with you all and he said no, so you’ll have to take my word for it. It was stellar, and worth turning 41 for. Scott got me a beautiful piece of art. We had a nice dinner. I sure am writing the word “nice” a lot.

Anyway, then my birthday was over, which happens, as we know, and my funk returned, and I figured out the cause of it: post-book-turning-in blues. Eden and I have been hunkered down for so long, focused on getting pages churned out, and then getting those churned-out pages to not suck, and then to suck even less, and then adding images to said pages, and now it’s…done. And you know what? It’s kind of a bummer. I felt relief and accomplishment for, uh, a few minutes, and then I missed that bastard manuscript that’s kept me so involved for so long.

The thing is, when you write a book, nothing feels as good as writing it. Not finishing it; not getting it published; not (I think) getting good reviews (which we would like, please, thank you). Even when it feels awful, writing is the best part of the process— because even when it’s difficult and every word you come up with is laughably bad, you know you did it anyway. You did it. And that can’t be taken away. (It can be laughed at, sure, but you’re not going to show anyone that draft, are you.)

The publications that, if you’re lucky, occur along the way—and believe me, I realize how lucky I am—don’t mean all that much. They don’t do a thing for your soul. That pesky soul. It is not at all assuaged with advances or praise or any of that nonsense. It wants you to work. The work is the whole point.

A novelist friend of mine once told me this. He outlined for me exactly what happens. He said that when you get your first article published, you worry about when you’re going to get another one published. And once you’ve had a few pieces published, you worry about when you’re going to get a book. And once you get a book, you stress out about the publication of the book, and will it sell enough. And then you worry about the reviews. And then you worry about the chances of getting your next book published. And on and on.

I ignored him. I knew that when I had my first accepted anything I would bask in my newfound glory and everyone would love me and also my complexion would clear up and I would never be sad again.

Well. You were right, Gary, you jerk. Here I am, sure that nothing is going to make me feel better except starting the next book. Which, I guess, is good news. And cause for celebration or whatever. Damn it.

Comments

[Big Dot]

Ah, the old 'May you get what you wish for' curse, or, more kindly, 'to travel is better than to arrive': it's a bummer, eh? A story as old as time - but at least it keeps us moving on and not resting on our laurels.

[Big Dot]

'To travel hopefully...' that is, of course - but with me that goes without saying anyway. Why would you travel any other way?

[LPC]

"The work is the whole point."

Well. Yes. And then we die. But before that we're alive.

I love you Alice.

[Robyn]

Looking forward to the next book. (Well, and looking forward to the first one, too).

I'm in a post-birthday funk, as well. I turned 41 a few days before you, and have to agree: what kind of pointless year is 41?!

I'm thinking of throwing myself a 40+1 birthday party, since we did nothing last year to celebrate the Big One (I was 3 months post-partum, and bloated and cranky and snarling at anyone who came within a few feet of me).

I'm thinking of my present age as one better than the big 4-0.

Happy belated birthday!

[Jen]

Good for you for pinpointing the problem. I've been known to wander around in an undiagnosed funk for quite a while before realizing "Oh, it's x! Why don't I just ..." and finally start to feel better.

I look so forward to reading said First Book, and all subsequent ones.

[Kerry]

Oh dear, this vicious cycle is exactly the way I feel about eating fun size Butterfingers. I totally feel your pain.

Seriously though - I'm so glad that the "on to the next one" feeling is affecting such a beautiful writer such as yourself. Your suffering is our gain!

[Suzy]

I've written jokes and comedy for the last 25 years. Which means I'm not 41. Moving on.

It wasn't until I finished my first screenplay that I plunged into a chasm so deep I saw China. (I'm now quoting my father from the dinner table)

I wrote 2 screenplays after that and their endings didn't affect me the way the first one did. I finally figured out it was because I really loved the first one. As in, would have married it I loved it so much.

Twitter is easier.

[Alexandra]

That is exactly right. The soul is made to work.

That's why I really do zone out when I'm working on a project.

I am happiest when immersed.

Love your posts, Bradley, and can't wait to get my hands on that book.

[Leslie]

Yes. It's like that when I'm in a play, and then the play is finished - But wait! All of these lines! and all of this emotion are still in my head! But it's done?!?!

But, then you relax a bit and take some time to realize that there are some fun things you didn't have time for when you were doing the play (or writing the book) and then you enjoy your family, and some tv, and you start getting the idea for another project and you start it and then it happens all over again. With the work and the excitement and the getting things done.That's how it all happens :)

[steve shilstone]

Well, my ebook launch day was yesterday and you hit the nail on the top flat part. Today I'm all Peggy Lee 'Is That All There Is?'

[Mrs. Kennedy]

As you know, I've been loath to let go of the manuscript, even going two weeks over deadline "just to make a few more changes." The process is the point -- of everything, probably.

[Ris]

Yes, I know exactly how you feel. The soul wants to work? Well, give it work. I keep that Eleanor Roosevelt quote taped up above my desk "Work is always an antidote to depression." It helps me when I'm feeling down. That and volunteering at a soup kitchen.

[Stephanie]

I am about to turn in my tenure file, which has been a 6 month writing process, but kind of a lifetime of working process. (Ok, I wasn't really doing research math when I was 10, but you know what I mean.) I've been feeling really down recently, and unable to put my finger on what was going on.

And the, BLAMMO, your post, and I think, "Oh yeah. I'll be done with this work."

Well, that plus it's sort of my JOB on the line, but I could do other things. I always wanted to be a pastry chef....

Good luck with the post-publication doldrums. I'm sure you'll start work on something New! and Awesome! soon.

[kate]

Wow. You are so right. I only write one blog post a month to my kiddo and every single month it is like pulling teeth to get it right. I lose sleep over sentences, transitions and just the right ending and then I post it and it is utter relief for a few days and then that anxiety to write sets in again. But now I am hooked and have to keep writing because as you said so eloquently, "[t]he work is the whole point." I love that so much I might need to print it out and frame it and hang it over my desk.

Congrats on 41 and the move and your book!

[wonderer]

I'm coming close to finishing my current novel (the first draft, anyway) and I expect to be right there with you. No more headaches over pacing, character, and figuring out how to tie up all those plot threads...and instead of celebrating, I'll be antsy until I start the next one.

Yes. Being a writer is a special kind of crazy.

[norm]

I think you have just explained my inability to complete things. Thanks! Gawd I hate deadlines.

[alittlejelee]

Thank you, Alice. Since finishing my last script I've been the Angst-Antsy-Agony-Queen of 6th Avenue. But misery loves company, so I'm great now.

[Rita Arens]

Fucking hell, yes, Alice. Which is why I'm sitting here trying to ignore this huge bottle of wine because my novel is out to two agents and I WANT ANOTHER BOOK.

My writing professor told me when you are done with the first book, just start on the next book. He was right, the fucking bastard, so I'll just pass that on to you. You may thank me the next time I see you, because by then you'll have started the next book.

Happy birthday, m'dear.

[Andi]

Giving birth to anything screws you up in the head.

E.G. giving birth to the following...

Babies? screw you up.Books? screw you up.Great new strategy at work? screws you up.Finish that latchhook project you started when you were 11? screws you up.

Finishing stuff always sucks. Because, well, that is the end. And ends always suck.

[J.R.K.]

But you know what makes you happy - and that counts for a lot.

Great post.

[Kirsty]

Wow, we're almost the same age! I turned totally-not-inspiring 41 on 18 May and had a pretty crappy day, in an already outstandingly crappy month. No celebration, no cake, no candles, no singing. My soon-to-be ex-husband-but-we're-not-married obviously didn't even get me a card, but also didn't help our daughters (aged 8 and 6, so too young to do shopping on their own) get me anything and they were distraught. Tensions were running high with ol' ex of mine and I was in a total funk. Have been for weeks, in fact.Also, did the NaNoWriMo last November and like to believe what I wrote could be made into something good, but no idea (no time, no non-funk moments) how to set about it.*SIGH*Hang in there, Alice, we all have to believe that 41 is going to be GOOD! (In my case, probably couldn't be much worse than 40...)

[Kassi]

42 will rock. Just because it is the answer to everything. hang in there!

[Jack]

I turned 41 last month. Hooray, I am a prime number. My almost 6 year old daughter asked me if that means that I am going to die soon.

Fun stuff. Actually 41 has been far better than 40 so I am optimistic about things.

[kate]

I started my blog when I turned 41. I'm going to start some new thing or other every year from here on out. It's awesome. I found your blog very inspiring and sent that post about exercising and donuts to everyone I ever met....If anyone ever fowards anything I write I will probably go into a post publishing funk, too, wo thanks for the heads up. I love your blog. Maybe you should go break a board with your bare hand--that seems to have worked for your friend, Mrs. Kennedy. Maybe I will take up Karat-ay when I turn 42.

[victoria]

Have you read "You Are Here," by the Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh? It says most of us "miss our appointment with life" by worrying about the future, or the past, instead of living in the present.