Being an author is like being in charge of your own personal insane asylum. ~Graycie Harmon
Lately I’ve been noticing a few interesting symptoms creeping up on me, those that suggest my writing and reading are starting to drive me batty.
Do any of the following sound familiar to you?
1. Overactive Imagination
Recently, I was up in the middle of the night feeding my 4-month-old son, when I heard a crash downstairs. Something falling.
My first reaction to things falling in basements is always one of unfounded worry (how do things just fall over by themselves?), but I shook off the noise and reminded myself it was only my imagination. Still, to make my silly self feel just that extra bit safer, I shut the hallway door behind me–as if that would help anything–and fumbled back into the dark bedroom with my sleeping son.
As I laid him down in his crib, suddenly I heard a voice that sounded like it was coming from behind the closed door–a foreign voice. A shock of terror rushed through me. My whole body went hot. My heart fell into my stomach.
There was someone in the house.
In an instant, I was at the bed, seizing my husband by the neck, whispering frantically, “There’s someone in the house! Wake up! Wake up!!!!!”
Because I’d only heard one voice, my first thought was that someone had wandered into the house, drunk perhaps, talking to himself, looking to cause trouble.
Of course, when my husband searched the house–bleary-eyed and not the least concerned about my hysteria–he came up with nothing. All the doors and windows were still secure.
In the end, we figured it was my 7-year-old talking in his sleep (he does that often), and his voice had simply carried down the hall from his own bedroom. Because the crash from downstairs had put me on edge, my mind had misinterpreted my own son’s voice.
The next morning I discovered the crash downstairs had been made by a mostly-empty laundry detergent bottle I’d propped upside down on the shelf, to get the last of the soap out.
Did I mention my husband’s first words were this: “What have you been reading??”
2. Hearing Voices
I’m sure I’m not the only writer with this problem: whenever I’m doing something, or watching something happen, I hear myself narrating in my head.
As I’m preparing dinner, I hear, “…she held the cool potato in her palm, peeled back its mottled brown skin…”
When I’m holding my baby, I hear, “…the child lay in her arms, listless and damp with fever…”
While I yell at gently remind my husband to take out the garbage, I hear, “…he rolled his eyes, continued to scan the front page of the newspaper as if he hadn’t heard her…”
As you can imagine, this becomes very annoying after a while.
Sometimes, a potato just needs to be a potato.
3. Paranoia
For some reason, if I’m writing and my husband or 7-year-old walk in the room, I switch off Scrivener and pretend I’m tweeting or checking the weather forecast instead. (Just in case they might be reading over my shoulder.)
When I write anything by hand, it usually ends up crumpled into a ball and stuffed under yesterday’s dinner slops in the garbage can. (Just in case they might see it there, pick it out and read it.)
For some reason, I insist on naming my electronic files things that aren’t actually the names of the stories I’m writing. (Just in case they might see the titles and know what I’m writing.)
In reality, my family probably couldn’t care less what I’m writing about, but I’m still paranoid about them reading it, especially before everything’s done and polished.
It’s mine, mine, mine.
All mine.
How Batty Are You?
Sometimes, especially at night (when the house is really dark and spooky), I wish I didn’t have an overactive imagination. I wish I didn’t hear a voice in my head saying, “…her heart fell into her stomach. There was someone in the house.”
Dum-dum-duhhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmm!
And then again, sometimes I just say, “Hey, I’m a writer. I’m a little weird. So what?”
Do you suffer from these same writing-related problems or other similar ones? What drives you the craziest? Are all of us creative types our own worst enemies?
Haha. Where did you find that picture of me?
Lydia: I have my sources.
Oh, I am SO with you on this one! As a writer, I have the most overactive imagination ever! In fact, I can’t even watch horror movies (or even commercials for horror movies) anymore, because then I start thinking someone’s going to break into my house and kill me, even thou I live in a safe neighborhood AND have a security system.
I even find myself “hearing” sounds that aren’t really there. All the time! haha… And I do my best writing when no one is around to look at what I’m doing or to even ask me what I’m writing.
I don’t watch scary movies or read scary books either–though I used to lap them up as a teen. I’m way too much of a chicken now!
Oh #2, definitely! I’m so glad I’m not the only one who narrates my own and others’ lives. (Fortunately, I haven’t started doing this out loud yet. That could be grounds for divorce.)
Ha ha. Yes, when it starts happening out loud you can begin to worry 😉
How about, I got awoken up from a scary dream last night, except I was the one doing the scaring!
And I got pushed to the edge of the bed, in the process, and left there panting like a husky dog.
I woke up, heart still racing, and smiling inside, …and still I refuse to write it down.
When will I move past this stubborn wall of writing sabotage???
Interesting. Can’t say I’ve ever had a dream where I was doing the scaring. What have you been reading??? 😉
Reading: Alice I Have Been…but, I think maybe it was all those jugs of
coffee and the spicy late night pasta that set me off. Then again, I am one
to hide around the corner quietly waiting to whisper “Boo”. -T
Brilliant post – love it. I can very easily empathise. I think the one that gets me the most is the over active imagination, that coupled with over analysis and/or asking ‘what if…?’ about everything and nothing. But, like you say, it’s what we do, and I’m quite happy to be a bit weird!
Nik
Thanks Nik. As long as we writers maintain a solid group identity of weirdness, as least we’re not alone!
LOL! I would have been terrified that evening, too – I mean, hearing a crash in the basement PLUS a foreign-sounding voice is enough grounds to wake up the hubby!
I think I go batty when I can’t read a book and enjoy it. I’m constantly tearing it apart. That drives me nuts after awhile because I just want to sit and read and not have to analyze it. Maybe that’s just what happens when you become a writer, though. 🙂
I once described myself as a demented scribbler – seems there’s a lot of us scribbling dementedly!
I talk to my characters a lot. I suppose that’s Ok but maybe its not really classed as being sane when you hear them answer you back is it? 🙂
Melissa, there was no rational thought of ‘wake hubby to check it out.’ It was an instant gut reaction–I practically hurled myself at him! I was so terrified he said he initially thought there was someone right behind me. Problem is now that if anyone ever did break in, he’d probably not believe me. At least I can laugh at myself!
Every negative life event, especially the ones I’m involved with, becomes potential material. I can be as upset as all get-out and in the back of my mind I’m thinking, how can I use this?
But what REALLY drives me batty is not writing. If I go a few days without a substantial writing session, I become snarly and edgy. I’ll take the overactive imagination over that any day.
I suffer extensively from #2, which Dorothy Sayers characterized as “the novelist’s unfortunate habit.” That puts me into good company, so I don’t mind so much.
You mean there’s a name for it?? Maybe I’m not so crazy after all! 🙂
Yes, I definitely suffer from overactive imagination syndrome! It either drives my hubby nuts or gives him a good laugh. I “hear voices” too but I tend to speak them aloud since I’m home by myself during the day. Then when people are actually around I forget I’m not alone anymore and still speak aloud to myself. Talk about weird. I don’t know how I have friends, lol!
It’s okay, Laura. I do that too 😉
I can’t say that I’ve suffered from hearing voices but I can check an overactive imagination and the paranoia box. In the space left for other, I’ve written in bizarre dreams and seeing my story come to life, but alas I’ve been so enthralled with it I forgot to write it down.
Yes, I have crazy dreams too, but I forget them very soon after waking up. Should really keep a notebook beside the bed or something .
It’s good to know I’m not alone in narrating my life in my head. At least I’m going crazy in good company! My worst moment was when I was talking to a friend and accidentally added a dialogue tag to what I was saying.
“How very interesting!” she said 😉
I am SO with you on in the internal-running-commentary on life (she quipped, her fingers flying over the keyboard to keep up with her thoughts…)
My earliest memory of self narrating my life is from about age 7, and I’ve probably been doing it ever since! Consider me batty too.
I’ve only noticed myself doing this recently, but I think it’s probably been going on for years, too!
I often find that whenever something happens, rather than applying Ockham’s Razor and assuming that the most obvious solution is probably the most likely, I usually go off on some amazing tangent, inventing increasingly implausible causes. Whether I do this because a) my imagination is bored and wants a challenge or b) I want life to be more interesting, I have yet to decide…
Oooh, tangents are fun. I go off on those all the time.
I suffer from all of the above, along with writing a few too many articles in the “how to” format, as well as listing items and ideas. It get really crowded(in my head) when I’m in the kitchen fixing dinner. It goes something like….I’m chopping up onions(she stands at the counter, tears streaming down her face. Hold the onion with your left hand, fingers slightly curved so you don’t accidentally cut your yourself while chopping. Three types of onion are best for cooking.) *sighs dramatically* Maybe I need to talk to my cats more or…no way can I write less. Talk to the cats more it is!
Cats are the best. I intend to have 50 of them when my children are out of the house (in another 20 years or so…)
LMAO! It HAS to be sad that I can absolutely relate to every one of those warnign signs!
I think we all relate to all of these. You’re not alone!
You’re not alone, moonduster. We’re all a little wacko! Or, a lot…
Thanks for the great post! Made me laugh! (Probably because there’s a lot of me in there.)
Hope nothing goes ‘bang’ in the night at your house this evening!
“For some reason, if I’m writing and my husband or 7-year-old walk in the room, I switch off Scrivener…”
I understand the need for secrecy; it’s an instinct and a protection after all. It’s a shame writers would feel this way, as who else better to support your creation than the ones you love. Of course, more than likely, they won’t understand your vision but at least they can cheer you on.
It’s hard being a writer alone; no support is just as worse as a stab in the head and heart. In my opinion, it’s more meaningful if you share the story’s journey with those you trust dearest rather than write alone. Otherwise, you tend to loose the motivation and passion quite easily. Worse – go insane. Sometimes, you might even gleem a few of insights and promising ideas from their feedback.
You’re right, Veronica. I have let my husband read some of my polished work, but I just can’t bring myself to let him see anything (or even tell him about it) before it’s at least coherent. It’s definitely a failing on my part.
Overactive imagination? Check
Hearing voices? Check
Paranoia? Check, check if checked, yep definetely check.
What is worse, I don’t get to be me for most of the time. When I take a break from work, I am Samuel, my vampire, searching for new victims, or fighting with his companion. I am Karstan, my king, fighting with his allies, making life changing decisions, or mourning his losses. I am every single character I created. They keep changing, and I find it hard to keep up.
I am lucky to live in more writer friendly times. I don’t care much for rooms with soft-padded walls and straitjackets don’t suit me.
hello! yes. i agree with you. please see my latest blog post on losing my mind and writing fan letters to vocabulary gurus. i think you would like it.
xx kate
transatlanticsketches.com
! and 2, most definitely! After I speak, a voice in the back of my head often finishes with something along the lines of “I retorted, miffed” and whatnot. Also, I find myself narrating my life as if it is a book daily – and not inside my head, either. Glad I’m not insane!