After finishing a novel, I feel mentally exhausted, creatively fatigued. It’s like there’s nothing left in my mind to conjure up, and my will seems all but spent. I wonder if I can write one more story, if I have enough energy to create another world or another plot. And because of the fatigue, I tell myself that I’m content with the last story I wrote, that there’s no need to put one more story out there . . .
But sooner or later, the yearn to write takes on a life of its own. It’s as if a quiet and unexpected idea, story, curiosity–whatever it is–needed to exist for its own sake. It’s like it existed in another realm independent of us, and out of nowhere, it zapped us, calling on us to write, to bring it into existence.
One more story can be like wishful thinking in a way, because it’s harder than it sounds. If we paused to reflect on the grueling work it would entail, especially the countless hours of planning and writing and rewrites and edits, we might reconsider. But to create or pursue anything worthwhile, whether it be a book, a painting, a song, etc., requires a leap of faith so to speak, a nosedive into the unknown.
Fallton Havenstonne 