Sometimes we can get so bogged down in product, especially after we have decided to do a big project, that we feel like if we're not working on something big we might as well not be doing anything.  But, this is not so.

Creative downtime often comes upon us when we've finished a large project, ended a class, at the end of the year when things start to ramp up and then quiet down, or in the dizzying craze that comes before the holidays where we are so busy with last minute work or family obligations that we can't find time for doing the kind of writing that we really care about. And sometimes we just need to rest and let ourselves relax and rejuvenate. A key to a sustainable harvest is letting the land lay fallow sometimes.

One thing that is important to do during the fallow periods is to rest your brain. Nurture yourself. Be good to yourself. Go to bed early. Wrap yourself in a warm blanket. Watch movies. Drink hot cocoa. See your friends.  Visit bookstores. Go to readings. Take a long walk. Watch the sunset. Listen to music. Dance around your house like a crazy person.  Cook. Eat. Consume art. You need to live life in order to write about it. Let yourself enjoy the little things and the people that you care about. Hide out from the world and be cozy. It's okay. I give you permission. I give myself permission, too.

In addition to letting the mind relax and loosen, keep in mental shape.  This sounds counter-intuitive, but it's really not.  Just pick up a pen and get a journal and write in it. Every day. Just a little bit. Or, every other day.  Or, whenever you get a free moment.  Don't worry about following any artistic impulses.  Write your worries and anxieties in it if you must.  Write about your obsessions, your rants and raves. Think of it as a status update for your mind.  Put your to-do list in there if you want, your grocery list, your notes from a meeting or class, doodles while you are on the phone, random emails from people you've just met, whatever. 

Then, just keep writing.  Who cares if it's good or if it's crap. Stay in practice. When you are feeling scattered or unable to create, know that you are not alone but if you stay in process, product will come eventually. And while you are waiting for the Muse to show up, you will at least train yourself to stay limber and create a disciplined routine to fall back on when you actually have the time, energy and focus to write. Or, when you jump back into production mode.

They say the most fit and healthy people are the ones that do a little bit of exercise or activity for a long period of time.  Be like them. Think of the ladies who are knee deep in the water picking rice around the world. Those are the strongest ladies in the world. 

Think of the tortoise and the hare from Aesop's fables. You have to be like the tortoise. Ignore anyone who claims that writing is easy or can be done fast, or the person who brags about her own fastidiousness in her writing routine.  Writing takes time, but it's a distance race, not a sprint. Most people who write creatively also have day jobs.  Forget about being the hare. Be instead, like the toirtoise. Plodding along gets things done.   

We have all sorts of reasons to resist the call to create.  Greek monastics who lived in the Egyptian desert during the fourth century used a word called 'logoismoi' to describe interruptive disturbing thoughts that bring somebody away from their spiritual path.  According to them, logismoi, loosely translated from Greek as "assualtive thoughts" are something that they believed to be very powerful and were thought to penetrate deep into the heart. They saw self-discouragement as a kind of logismoi.  In some ways, this philosophy aligns with many modern-day philosophies about writing.  Greeks call them logismoi, but to writers, it could be another way of saying an artistic block.  I mean the a small, seemingly logical rational negative nay-saying voice that we use to talk ourselves out of starting some things or making progress on others.  It's a kind of artistic resistance that comes when you are about to sit down and get to work.

In my informal survey with writing colleagues and mentors and while examining my own practice, I don't think these kind of fear-based thoughts ever go away. But, in order to really do the work of creating, you have to begin anyway despite the fact that the work might not be "good," or that you might not be "in the mood" to write.

Another way to take advantage of this creative downtime is to use the respite to print out and submit your work for publication.  Send it out.  How do you know they won't like it?  The more you send it out, the more you will get used to sending. Part of the process of creating a chapbook that we do in our class is the first step of publishing, of seeing your process over time as a product.  It's a different kind of thinking to busy yourself with the work of sending out work.  One of my mentors, poet Barry Spacks, used to grudgingly call this aspect of writing 'po-biz.' What better time to print out and put papers together with a paper clip and stuff envelopes than when you are not feeling very creative?

You don't have to have a 350-page manuscript to send your work out. You can instead send smaller pieces from your journal that you type up as "poems" or short shorts.  Send a chapter of your novel to a fellowship. See what happens. You can find a wealth of opportunities for publication from Poets and Writers Magazine online at PW.org.  Why not? Just try it.  What have you got to lose?

See this as part of your practice.

Aim high and aim true.  Always look at your big project if you have one....but these lower hanging fruits, small journals and magazines and a reading series or two can help you establish a publication history and give you confidence.  Or, if you have recently had a piece or two published, once the initial high runs out, don't be surprised if you find yourself feeling just as lost as you did when you began...fearing the blank page like when you first started out.

That's okay. It happens to everyone. It's part of being a writer. All writers face this.  That's one of the reasons why it can be useful for seasoned writers to practice alongside beginners. As far as process is concerned--and the battle to stare down our own resistance in the mirror--we're all on the same page anyway. 

Take care of yourself, clean out your desk, stay in some sort of journal practice if you can and get ready for the next phase. The Muse will find you soon. Make room for her arrival.