Finnian Burnett

In my last post, I talked about the joy of coming out of winter depression and into the new creative life of spring. The way the thaw seems to happen all at once—how ideas break the dam and bombard me so fast, there’s literally no way I can bring them all to life.

That’s how I feel right now. Full of ideas. Full of life. Novel premises, character voices, exciting titles that won’t leave me alone. I’ve written five flash fiction stories in the past few days after a long winter without writing ANY. It’s thrilling. I’m outside a lot more now, walking for ages with my wife, pointing out the new blooms coming up in people’s yards and out on the trail, looking for marmots and beavers and all the other animals poking their heads out. Yesterday, she pointed out the birds that live in a dead tree in our yard and I immediately came inside and wrote a creative non-fiction piece called “Birds in a Dead Tree.” (I post all of these on my Patreon which is bursting at the seams with stories right now!)

After a long lifetime of coming into spring each year with this idea that I’ve been “fixed” from the brokenness of the winter slump, I know it doesn’t last. And that might feel sad to some. But to me, it’s hopeful, because it’s also a reminder that when I face my next depressive slump (which, incidentally isn’t always seasonally related), it won’t be forever, either. The point is that right now, I feel I’m in a writer’s shopping mall with an unlimited credit card and a full staff following me as I point to each one, saying, “That one! That one!”

And I also know it isn’t going to last. So this year, I’m trying something new. I’m stockpiling. Instead of berating myself for my ADHD mind that can’t settle down and focus on one idea, I’m giving space to all of them.

Every time a story idea strikes, I open a fresh document and bust out a first draft. If it’s a new novel idea, I’m making a folder with the working title and at least writing down the basic plot idea. In a few cases, I’ve outlined the inciting incident, the rising action, the ultimate conclusion. I gave myself a few hours last week to do full plot outlines on three different books. Does this mean I have bits and pieces of a dozen books without any real progress on any of them? Yes. But does it also mean I always have something to work on when I sit down to write? Yes.

It’s become a kind of gift to my future self. A reminder that the creative well will fill up again—and when it does, I’ll be ready. Or when it doesn’t, I’ll still have something to work with. It’s kind of like when my wife and I canned all that tomato sauce the one year we successfully grew tomatoes. In February, when we’re living in a cold, grey bucket of suck, we can whip out fresh sauce and fill the house with the smells of summer. Well, I can also paw through my works in progress folders and bring back the smell of my verdant spring.

If you’re also in a season of abundance, I encourage you to gather what you can. Write the messy notes. Sketch the outlines. Give those stray thoughts a name and a place to live. You don’t have to chase every idea right now. (Though you can!)

Maybe next winter, instead of dreading the creative slump, I’ll look forward to them hibernation, to the time when I can wrap the blankets around me and dive into finishing something.