I am not depressed!
There, I got that out there. I know my last few posts have leaned toward the negative side but that does not mean I am depressed. No mother, I am not taking medication. No Aunt Laverne, I am not standing on the edge of a cliff. I have merely been sitting at my writing desk trying to pound out my latest story.
I fear that negativity is a hazard of the job.
I Googled “depressed writer” and I came up with 7,170,000 hits. That’s a lot of depression. Seriously!
Ernest Hemingway, John Keats, Proust and Mark Twain were all rumored to have suffered from depression. A quick search of “writers who committed suicide” yielded over 400 names including greats such as Virginia Woolf, Hunter S. Thompson and Sylvia Plath.
There is quite a bit of internet space dedicated to why so many writers are susceptible to depression. Theories from lack of exercise to lack of a steady income to insupportable loneliness exist. My good friends at Quirk and Quill recently wrote a blog on just this topic.
It is true that I could stand to exercise more, that I have yet to earn a penny from writing and my wife would certainly support the fact that I spend too much time alone at the computer. But I am not depressed.
I have made a pact to be more positive. I even Googled ‘happy writer’ for advice. Here is what I found:
FINISH YOUR S***! - Chuck Wendig
Don’t quit your day job - Nathan Bransford
Okay, so perhaps the uplifting isn’t so uplifting after all.
My point here being… writing is full of self-doubt. As a writer I constantly second guess what I am writing. I accept this fact. It is what I have chosen to do. It doesn’t mean I am moving to Key West to drink beer and sleep with cats.
In fact, today I plan to make a large glass of lemonade, turn the baseball game on the radio and write the next chapter of my novel. Life is pretty good if you ask me.