The Writer’s Malaise

Mood swings – of course it does. (Thought I’d catch you there!)

Seriously now:

Authors tend to teeter between elation and despondency. I have yet to meet a writer of any sort who has not – at one time or another – suffered from depression, anxiety or plain sadness. This occupation seems to attract the type of insular introvert with mood swings that are either affected by the writing habit, or that cause it.

Although introverts are not the shy, monosyllabic antisocial people they are thought to be, the writing profession attracts them because they tend to be analytical observers. They attribute much of what they see to the ‘human condition’ which they like to portray minutely, in fiction and poetry especially.

Extraverts tend to get enough out of their activities and have less need to write stuff down. But let’s not dwell on these generalizations. Most people who write have mood extremes that are wider than those of the general populace. Not everyone can or wants to write, even though it feels as though everyone in the world has written a book, since publishing opened up.

A mood swing to the grey or black side might have some scribbling their angst, decrying the most dire of their feelings. When their inner pendulum moves to the red or yellow side, they might have less need to disburden, analyse or ‘exercise their art’.

Others might only be able to pen creatively when they are on a high, writing rapidly before it all switches off and it’s dark in their soul again. I knew an author who wrote about the environment, who would positively bloom and blossom with euphoria, and turn out some magical prose. Because she was affected by the weather, winter had her reading other people’s stuff instead. She could not write in the cold: it depressed her.

Others yet are thrown into dejection and misery by different stages of writing. Finishing a manuscript might have them weep. Starting a rewrite might have them swing to the far reaches of euphoria, especially if working on a completed draft is what they love doing most.

Few writers are free of these fluctuations. I have known writers’ groups whose meetings degenerated into discussions of consolation, sharing, comparing, and commiseration on a regular basis. They had more than writing in common: they also had the writer’s malaise. Talking about it gave them the insight to cope.

Understanding yourself as a writer is what’s important, since no two of us are the same. Observe yourself and your feelings and behaviours, and ask loved ones to observe you too. Note when you are struck immobile by anxiety or silenced by gloom. Note when you walk a foot off the ground, and can deal with simply anything that comes your way, armed only with a wide grin and a blank Word page. Ask to be told when you are impossible, or when you are the life and soul of the family.

Then you are on the way to understanding mood swings – your particular brand – and your loved ones will understand you better too. Gone will be questions like, “What’s wrong with you!?” All you will need to say is, “I sent in a submission today.”  Or, “I started Chapter Thirteen.” And all will be understood, especially if you are in tears, or laughing so hard no one else can get a word in.

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ROSANNE DINGLI, author of  Death in Malta and According to Luke, falls into despondency on completion of a novel, and submission often makes her quite difficult to live with. Rewrites and the prospect of a good edit have the ability to raise her spirits.  Her new novel Camera Obscura will be released end March. For more about Rosanne Dingli, visit her website , or her blog.

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