Burnout happens when people who have previously been highly committed to a job lose all interest and motivation. [snip] It mainly strikes highly-committed, passionate, hard working and successful people – and it therefore holds a special fear for those who care passionately about their careers and about the work they do.

When I started this series, I gave the Burnout blog posts 2 weeks to run. I approached a couple of writing lists I’m on, then did the rest of the invitations by hand, first plumbing my address book and then resorting to that faithful, timeless tool: Google. I found myself on the electronic trails of many writers I admire, from Alain de Botton to Annie Proulx to Mary Doria Russell, Lee Child, Simon Pegg, Tanith Lee, Delia Sherman, Michael Robotham, Tara Moss, Mary Gentle, Patricia Anthony, Peter Watts, Cory Doctorow, Nicola Griffith – some of whom proved elusive on my cursory electronic search. May of whom were findable, but only *carefully* findable – their websites were available, for example, but not their contact details. I imagine this is the price that’s paid for ‘big fame’, but it did make me admire those that still offered up an email address or contact form. I can’t imagine what offers they receive, apart from my own odd little one.

Some of those that *were* contactable had auto-responders on their email addresses, advising that their existing workloads or deadlines didn’t allow them to read &/or respond. It was rather thoughtful of them, I felt, & in-&-of-itself, it spoke volumes about the dangers of burnout in the schedules these successful writers were keeping. Some others took the time to email in person to explain why they couldn’t respond. Occasionally I had the sense that if some of them slowed down enough to even consider how they address their creative workloads, they’d burn out on the spot. More than one hinted at that very fact.

The reasons people couldn’t respond varied from sad, personal reasons to wonderful, deadline-type, exhilarating reasons, offering up a dialogue based on nothing but their goodwill and my random invitation. I admit, I was kinda touched. And it reminded me of the wonder of words – not just the kind of inspiring words Elizabeth Gilbert can put together in an 18-minute TEDx talk, but the wonder of simple words, ‘thanks for asking’ type words or ‘Australia, eh?’ words. It reminded me, simply, of words.

And I was even more impressed – you can imagine – by those that responded in the positive. Pullitzer-prize nominated author Mary Doria Russell wrote a response despite being on the road. Delia Sherman made a glorious & much re-tweeted contribution. After Ellen Kushner pointed out a wonderful blog post by Terri Windling on Autumn Cleaning, we caught Terri’s eye & she named some of her own favourite posts from the series. I remembered that Terri had, in fact, planted the seeds of my journey in 2005 when, at my first World Fantasy Convention, I saw Terri talk about the value of ‘fallow times’. A lesson it may have taken me this long to execute (though at least I knew enough to remember her words).

One of my favourite authors, Jim Lewis, bucked the trend towards optimism (you see why he’s a favourite, eh?). Ben Payne vacillated in style (or did he?), Alan Baxter taught us something valuable about martial arts, Kaaron Warren gave us a new reason to have children, Matthew Cheney charmed us with the value of ‘crazy’ (perhaps inadvertently). And there are so many very wonderful posts from so many generous people who honoured the mandate to answer ONE question in ONE paragraph with a ONE-line bio – with not a dud post in the bunch. All of them were thoughtful, smart posts that taught me something. I mean, ALL of them. And I wanted to link to them all, except I remembered I could just link to the burnout tag on LJ & trust the readers to find the people and posts they needed.

I’m proud to know you guys.

Thank-you.

In which a bunch of authors & editors are invited to answer the question: How do you deal with creative exhaustion?

You have to let your fantasy world grow with you. You cannot keep it preserved the way it was when it was first published, because it’s trapped on paper and can’t change, but you will change. The real world foists new experiences on you and you will age. Your opinions and your character will evolve. Looking over your own work, you’ll think it a bit odd, maybe old-fashioned or childish. You have to reinvent your writing to suit who you are now. Do not try to fossilise yourself at the age of your first success. This is fantasy and should be the most lively form of literature; if you want aeroplanes and oligarchs instead of swords and kings, or peace instead of war, of course you can have them. Throw out the old and reinvent to keep up with your new taste.

This reinvention isn’t an immense chore. It is the same creative flow that caused you to write the fantasy world in the first place. 

So to any writer who has creative exhaustion I’d say: Maybe you’re stuck in a rut because you’re trying to write in a style that no longer suits you. You know this deep down, but you fear to change because your first books have been so successful. The publishers and fans seem to want more of the same, but you’re sick of it. For heaven’s sake stop thinking you should duplicate it: You’re different now. If you have the strength to lead them in something new, they’ll know it’s good. They’ll be excited and they’ll follow.

Put all your old notebooks in a crate and shove it in the attic. Forget publishers and awards. Don’t open any of your novels trying to create consistency where none should exist. This is fiction and we celebrate its lability. Nothing you have previously written is important, only the bits in your memory. Pick up a few scraps of paper, because a shiny new notebook is offputting. And write a scene for yourself.

Then another.

- Steph Swainston

In which a bunch of authors & editors are invited to answer the question: How do you deal with creative exhaustion?

If you’ve got a deadline and you’re stuck in the middle of the story, try taking Raymond Chandler’s advice: have someone kick in the door and burst into the room, guns blazing (metaphorically, of course). Injecting something left-field into the stalled plot-line often gets the brain — and the story — working again, even if it changes its direction.

- Robert Hood has written many short stories and a few novels.

In which a bunch of authors & editors are invited to answer the question: How do you deal with creative exhaustion?

Creative exhaustion is my default mode. In recent years the only reliable way I have broken through is to have an externally-dictated deadline for collections I desperately want to be published in, and with a story waiting to be written that I felt passionate about.

- Chris Lawson

In which a bunch of authors & editors are invited to answer the question: How do you deal with creative exhaustion?

When I have tapped out the reservoir that is my creative mind, I refill it by experiencing other people’s creations: stories, music, performances, art, history and philosophy. I also “refill” by taking in the natural world, spending time without people or their works, looking at the sea, or a tree, or a bunch of parrots happily bickering in a palm tree. All of this adds up, but it may take time to build the reservoir back up to a point where you can draw on it again, to create new work.

- Garth Nix is the author of quite a few books and stories and has quite often been creatively exhausted, and recovered.

In which a bunch of authors & editors are invited to answer the question: How do you deal with creative exhaustion?

I rarely suffer from creative burnout, and I think the reason is because, with a couple of kids, writing time is still precious. We just had the school holidays and I could not claw more than a few minutes a day at the keyboard, which means that first thing Monday morning, I fake a tear as the kids go to school and am raring to go. So, yeah. Have kids. Avoid creative burnout.

- Kaaron Warren’s short story collections are The Grinding House and Dead Sea Fruit. Her novels are Slights, Walking the Tree and Mistification. Her website is kaaronwarren.wordpress.com and she’s on twitter @kaaronwarren