Addicted to Rest
On AWP, not writing, and the apparent impossibility of balancing ambition against exhaustion
Deprivation has always been the mother of obsession, for me. Whether it’s my extreme sweet tooth, born of a childhood where sugar was mostly forbidden, or my determination to have a ‘slutty phase’1 after blooming late, jumping into a seven-year relationship, and getting my heart broken on the precipice of marriage — if I’m denied it, I want it.
I know this about myself, which is why I keep my cupboards stocked with all manner of snacks (much to my husband’s chagrin, since I have a habit of hoarding the last bits of things for months “in case I crave it later”). Luckily, monogamy feels like the opposite of deprivation, so I don’t have to fight myself to be faithful, but I have a new obsession that feels like it’s getting a bit out of hand: rest.
It’s been nearly a year since my last publication, which came out the same week that I had my first child. My son is wonderful: adorable and hilarious and clever and…exhausting. It’s not his fault, obviously, but it’s true. My husband and I are both absolutely wrecked and sleep deprived. Our nighttime hours are traded off, one of us ‘on duty’ while the other sleeps, then switch, and our days are a blur of work, cooking, playtime, bathtime, bedtime, naps, diaper changes, stroller walks, etc. If we’re not taking care of the baby, we’re trying to hold together our adult lives (bills, dishes, gas — all that fun shit) by our fingernails.2 It’s a whirlwind, and free time is something we each get at the cost of the other (though we also both prefer to spend time with each other/the baby, so we don’t ask for alone time often).
Still, I had this idea that when he started daycare I’d get back to my writing practice. After all, until my startup employer gets funding I’m only working three days a week, which is financially untenable but leaves two whole days to work on revising my novel, sending my memoir manuscript to small presses, pitch magazine editors…so many things I intended to do with this time, including writing regular newsletters again.
We started daycare the first week of January. Between traveling to see grandparents and a horrible bout of RSV that ripped its way through our family for nearly six weeks, it wasn’t a great start, but since around mid-February I’ve had those two days a week to myself pretty consistently. And what have I done with my time?
Nothing.3
I’ve watched a lot of Netflix, done a lot of couch-sitting, and looked at my phone a lot. I’ve let myself get sucked into a number of fantasy shows and done a lot of list-making, in particular to-do lists where I lie to myself about how much I’m going to get done on my next free day. Oh, and I guess I’ve done medical appointments and grocery shopping and the odd lap-swim. But I haven’t done a lick of writing.
Last weekend, I took what I thought would be a huge step back toward my writing life: I went to AWP, the largest writing conference in North America. It was in Seattle and I just couldn’t resist, despite the cost of registration and accommodations and the very large favor my husband would have to do for me, taking care of the baby by himself for 36 hours before bringing him to Seattle, then solo parenting all day while I was at the conference for the rest of the weekend.
I didn’t want to leave my baby, but I was excited to reconnect with my craft, hopefully find some inspiration, and definitely eat some good food. One out of three ain’t bad?
The truth is, I wasn’t inspired; I was intimidated. I found the panels either irrelevant to my career stage (ie how to find an agent, like, literally how to find people to query) or totally overwhelming. One panel in particular was full of brilliant women talking about writing crime and the analytical brilliance spilling from their mouths made me feel awful — even if I do manage to get another book published, surely I’ll never be able to speak so articulately about it, or my process, or the social context in which it was published. I left that panel and went back to the hotel to be with my family.4
Look, I love Seattle, and I love writing, but I was not ready. My body was so stiff and sore from walking to and from the conference center multiple times a day (pumping is the enemy of freedom), and my mind and heart were (are) exhausted by the sheer scale of the conference, all that talent and desire and drive pulsing and heaving in this enormous glass and concrete structure… It was a lot. And I wasn’t ready. I’m not ready.
But the problem is that being deprived of the energy and time to write only makes me miss it more. I’m obsessed with how much I’m not writing. Every time I hit ‘next episode’ instead of opening my laptop to a Word doc I feel a jolt of dismay. But I’m addicted to this rest. I haven’t gotten enough time to just be — kind of in my whole life, but especially since my son’s arrival.
So, since it’s the only thing that’s ever eased my obsession with other things (like food), I’m leaning in. Maybe one day I’ll feel like I’ve rested enough, and I’ll have it in my to revisit my novel(s) or submit to some small presses. Today is not that day.5
Recent Writing
This newsletter! Literally the only thing I’ve written (besides the reams of content I write for my marketing day job) since the last one I sent. Gold star for me!
Recent Reading
Shout-out to my son’s contact naps for forcing me to listen to audiobooks sometimes instead of watching TV! Recent faves include The Island of Sea Women, by Lisa See, and Happy-Go-Lucky, by David Sedaris (a forever fave, though his views are starting to lean kinda boomerish in his dotage). I also listened to Ready, Player One, which has been much lauded by online communities and which I thought was fine — well-written and very creative, but maybe a little too video game-y for my taste.
A Random Joy
At least all this rest has given me time to needlepoint (something I can do in front of a mediocre Netflix show), and I recently finished the stocking I’d been working on for over a year! I was right, too: you can’t even tell I screwed up so many times. It looks amazing, if I do say so myself.
I’m now desperately putting off turning it into an actual stocking for fear of screwing that up, but in the meantime I’m already blasting through my son’s pattern, which is blissfully less complicated (wish I’d known that before starting with the other one).
Yeah, this never happened. Alas, I am an introvert, a romantic, and, truthfully, kinda vanilla. A potent combination that adds up to the inability to sleep around.
Also trying to keep up with trimming our fingernails, and our son’s. Both mine and his grow SO FAST and we’re both a danger to ourselves and each other when I don’t keep on top of them.
Okay, not entirely nothing. I pump every two hours, which is like a part-time job in itself, AND I finally finished needlepointing my husband’s stocking (see the pic at the end of the newsletter), and sometimes I tidy or clean or bake. But none of that is what I intended to do with my time.
We had a lovely time together, taking our son to restaurants and watching him gobble up everything from Neopolitan meatballs to chicken yakitori and lamb souvlaki. That kid loves food, especially meat, just as much as his parents do, and we are so proud.
BUT I did write this newsletter! And that’s a huge win, given my current intellectual malaise. It also took like two hours so you’re welcome?
Oh, do I ever feel you on the writer's dismay. I haven't written a lick that wasn't for work in so long, I don't know if I ever will again (Yes I will!). I have that same moment of panic/sadness/regret every time I turn on the tv, but that rest? It's so important. We'll get back there!
Hey I loved reading this. Not least because I can relate. I went to AWP too and my god you described it perfectly!!!! My experience of it? The panels were underwhelming, seemed to have panelists who had just published one book (often self published) themselves and seemed overly eager to act like experts while I asked myself, where are the experts? Ok I'm a little snotty.
And in those panels where the brilliance was constant, I felt the panelists had overlooked the TITLE and description of the workshop. Did they not remember what it was supposed to be about?? Anne, I think the need to watch Netflix and veg out is very real and very valid and you should try to stop fighting it. The constant taking care of another human being is tiring and I suspect YOU need down time and fun time and thats what you're seizing. And its OK.
Maybe do one day and a half of doing that GUILT FREE and take an hour or so, ONLY, to write or submit, whatever. I'm having a similar kind of shlump right now, cant get myself motivated to write. NOT EVEN my newsletter! But I think its a hard thing to push. Maybe there is an ebb and flow we should respect rather than resist so hard and so brutally. Although, I wish you well in overcoming it too
All my best and thanks for your newsletter. The introvert in me emerged at AWP too. I literally hid and felt allergic to the hustle. BUT I did love being among book lovers and writing lovers. That gave me hope and joy in an of itself.