Danger, Will Robinson!
Sunday, June 28, 2009Other introverts will relate to this, I imagine.
Writers tend toward reclusiveness. Not because they’re eccentric (though some certainly are) or because they’re weird (though I’ve known a few), but because writing is a very introspective activity. It’s difficult to piece together a story when the world strives to intervene. That’s one of the reasons that writing (and writers) are usually seen as “loners.” Not in the serial killer way (though perhaps there are even a few of those. I’m not admitting to anything).
Sometimes, we become so immersed in our story world, that human relations fall by the wayside. Or we get so caught up in words that we tend to forget to use them in reality. Writing can be quite intense, even if on the outside it doesn’t look at all difficult. I’ve had non-writers wonder aloud how hard it can really be, sitting at a computer all day. Well, if we were merely sitting there doing nothing, that might be one thing. But all the work is going on in our minds. It’s not physically as strenuous as, say, lumberjacking, but it’s as exhausting.
I tend to require a nap after several hours of writing. Sometimes before. But I recognize the danger in removing myself from the world at large, for much of the information used in stories comes from the world around us. There are memories that are also cultivated for this purpose. Experiences. Others’ lives.
So it behooves us as writers to get out and at least socialize a little, lest we forget how to be human. Kind of like the character Jack Nicholson played in As Good As It Gets. I took that more as a cautionary tale for writers than a human drama.
It’s dangerous to become so mired in words and stories that reality is neglected. I believe that’s why I chose more social breeds of dogs as companions, because they force me out into the world and into interactions with others. And hell, many stories come from those relationships, too. Yes, sometimes it’s too much being “in the world.” I often find that I have to retreat from it all to regroup, decompress, and figure out my next strategy. But it’s worth it, too. Finding balance would be best, of course. But that’s not always as easy as it sounds.
This world often demands our attention, our participation. Do we answer the call, or continue in our introverted ways?
Tell the truth. My name flashed when you wrote “weird”.
Since I started writing full-time (or should I say not working a day job. I don’t write for eight hours), I’ve become less social. I’ve neglected some friendships and didn’t encourage new ones. But I did make new writer friends. And my local critique group forces me out of the house. But I always feel good to be in like company, to not make excuses for what I do. It’s like group therapy.
I agree that reality can become neglected if you let it.
Have you read *The Introvert Advantage* by Marti Olsen Laney? I can’t recommend that book highly enough. It isn’t just for introverts, either. An extroverted friend worried out loud to me that her daughter needed a half hour alone in her bedroom every day after school. She thought that was weird. I told her it was very normal for an introvert who has dealt with people all day, and wonderfully healthy that her young daughter was able to take care of herself this way. I lent *The Introvert Advantage* to my friend and she loved it. She understands her daughter much better now.
Tricia~ Don’t worry, I wasn’t thinking of you when I wrote “weird.”
I do believe that on occasion we must fraternize with non-writers as well, lest we forget.
Margaret~ I ordered a copy a couple weeks ago at your recommendation and it should be here any day! Thank you!
Perhaps you can post a review after you’ve read it. I’d love to hear your thoughts.