Writing With A Heartbreak
Yeah, my heart is broken. There’s no way of getting around it. Don’t tell me the cracks will make it bigger, just yet. Don’t tell me time heals all. Because pain knows no time, only endurance. All you know when you’re in pain is that it effing HURTS. Pain, like a crisis of pleasure, is timeless-infinite.
So I’m just…dealing. There’s been a lot of cleaning, a lot of organizing. And writing. I did try writing out what I was feeling, but after an initial dump of anger and agony I figured out that I wasn’t helping myself, I was just driving the knife in deeper. I’ll write to process later.
Besides, I’m under deadline right now. I have a book I have GOT to finish. So each day I sit down, I close my eyes, and I search for the way back into that world, the one I built when I wasn’t broken inside. I dig for each word the way people dig for diamonds. I stop and have crying jags, sometimes. I keep coming back to this mountain I’ve got to climb, this house I have to excavate.
See, the Muse is faithful–if I am. As long as I show up consistently, she’s there. She will never stop trying as long as I don’t. It doesn’t matter if I hit a single ball–as long as I’m swinging, she’s on the mound. She doesn’t care if I hit a home run, a grounder, a foul, or if I whiff it.
No, the Muse cares about the fact that I’ve got the bat and showed up at the stadium. She cares that I’m there. As long as I’m at the plate, bat in hand and hat pulled down, she’s going to feed me those balls. She’s got an infinite supply, for anyone who cares to spend some time at the plate.
If my heart is breaking, if I miss the ball because of the tears clouding my vision, she doesn’t care. If my swing is more like wildly slicing at thin air, it doesn’t matter. The only thing I have to do is not give up. I get suited up and step out of the dugout even if my chest is wide open and flayed for all to see. I stand at that damn plate and I’m going to swing. I’m not sure if I’m saving the Muse or if she’s saving me, and I don’t care.
The only thing I care about is that there will be another ball. That’s the way to mark off the infinite time of pain. Sooner or later I’ll hit one of the balls. In the meantime, it’s good to know that she’s going to keep throwing them. She hasn’t given up on me.
Related posts:
- The Physical Act Of Writing
- Telegraph From A Writer On The Edge
- Which One’s Better, The Chicken Or The Egg?
Tags: not worth chewing through the leather straps, shooting from the hip, the goddamn Muse, what we know is true, Writing (About)
October 7th, 2009 at 11:31 am
{{{Lili}}}
October 7th, 2009 at 11:32 am
This is one of those times when no words will really help. There’s nothing for a time like this, except that I read this and was moved.
So I’m saying that instead of anything else.
October 7th, 2009 at 11:32 am
Brilliantly said. And good luck through it all!
October 7th, 2009 at 11:36 am
Oh, Lili. (((hugs)))
October 7th, 2009 at 11:39 am
You inspire me to keep going. Both by reading your books and thinking “I wanna write something as cool as this!” and by reading here and knowing you keep going, too.
October 7th, 2009 at 11:40 am
It really breaks my heart reading you’re suffering like this: you’re an awesome person and you don’t deserve to be in such pain.
Sending hugs and good thoughts your way.
October 7th, 2009 at 11:51 am
I do believe you’re my new hero.
October 7th, 2009 at 11:58 am
Ugh. I SO know what you’re talking about. Luckily, when my husband and I split (he asked for a divorce on New Year’s Day a few years ago), I had just sold a book and was busy editing. Thank Christ.
But writing anything fresh didn’t work for a year. I was too devastated. All that came out was incoherent, rambling, meandering crap. So I’m glad that isn’t the case for you.
It’s horrible, feeling that pain. It really is. I couldn’t even bear the sunshine. It was just too much of a contrast to what I was feeling at the time.
The gym helped. I worked my ASS off, so that I could feel something other than the agony I was feeling.
Went to group and one on one counselling for a while. It was just time that helped.
I’m so sorry. I feel your pain. So overwhelming and completely consuming.
But you’re amazing. Just keep hanging in there, Lilith. There is light at the end of the tunnel. It’ll get better. I promise.
*HUGZ*
October 7th, 2009 at 12:45 pm
Pain has its own timetable and its own agenda. Fortunately, it seems your Muse does, too. Beautiful and sad.
October 7th, 2009 at 12:51 pm
((hugs from a stranger, cause we haven’t met, but my heart hurts for you))
October 7th, 2009 at 1:17 pm
So sorry…. I will hope and pray for you…
October 7th, 2009 at 3:10 pm
I’ve been there too and, yeah, it hurts so much that you can’t see beyond the next few minutes sometimes. I remember days where breathing in and out was about all I could manage but, even though you can’t see it now, you are beginning to move tiny little incremental steps forward. You are talking– to us. We hear you. Know that you are not alone. ((hugs))
October 7th, 2009 at 3:29 pm
I wish my tears for you would ease yours. :-\
October 7th, 2009 at 4:39 pm
Yep, go with the Muse. She is the constant.
October 7th, 2009 at 4:42 pm
Hi Lilith,
at 5:10am, so I’m very thankful that she is healthy and continues to be with us every day.
) and family that care and love you. 
You’re not alone though I know that it feels that way right now. Thanks for continuing to share your personal life with us. 
As you go through this pain, I feel the pain for you. I’m happy that you are continuing each and every day. Sometimes that’s all you can do.
The reason, I know pain is because I lost many people in my life-grandmother, grandfather, a teacher I admired in hs, and most recently, my first infant son that was a preemie in Aug. 2007, he got an infection and just declined from there. Then, this year my father died of a sudden heart attack in May. I have another baby, a little girl that is now 2 months old. She was born the same month as my son and would have almost been born on his birthday Aug. 5th, but she was born on the 6th respectively.
So, hang in there, you have your writing and though it’s not helping you at the moment, it will eventually. You also have friends (real and online, like me
October 7th, 2009 at 5:07 pm
Hi,
I’m so sorry that you are going through all of this. Just hang in there and lean lean on all of your friends and family, and don’t feel or let people tell you that you should be over or done with a part of your anger grief and all the other emotions. Every person goes through it at their own pace and emotions are all valid and even if you get to feel like that you think your friends are probably tried of hearing they aren’t that is another of the emotion that will creep in doubt but remember that your real and your online friends love and care and support you.
October 7th, 2009 at 6:42 pm
This was absolutely beautiful and heartbreaking.
October 7th, 2009 at 8:53 pm
perhaps you can use the world of your book as an escape, where you can be someone other than you with problems other than yours. it’s always worked for me: daydreams or a book where _this_ world doesn’t apply anymore and there are no rules of what you can and can’t do.
and it doesn’t have to be the exact same world as that which you were attempting to create before, the mind from which it was born has changed, do you really expect it to stay the same?
October 7th, 2009 at 9:21 pm
Like everyone else, reading this post mostly just made me want to give you the world’s biggest bear hug. If it makes you feel any better (and I doubt it, at least not today, or tomorrow, or the next day, but maybe sometime in the not-too-distant future) those words you write with the muse are some of my favorite words — if it is possible to be addicted to an author, then I fall into that category.
October 7th, 2009 at 10:48 pm
Happiness is but a moment in the general drama of pain, i learnt that a long time ago, my wish for you is many many happy moments to get u through the bad times and know that we are all sendin you lots of hugs and love and good karma, hope it helps*big hug*
October 8th, 2009 at 1:41 am
I don’t have anything great to say (except that time WILL make you feel a bit better), other than I feel for you, I’m sad for you and I hope you feel better soon. I hope the writing helps, and I really hope that you also allow yourself to feel better. Try to focus (of course) on anything positive in your life. My father has had his heart broken a few times. He has been in the depths of despair (when he loves, he loves completely). He is now 70 years old and in the last year has found the Love of His Life. I don’t mean to say that you have to wait until you’re 70 to feel better, just that things worked out for him and they will sooner or later for you.
I’m so sorry that you are feeling this horrible pain, and truly, truly hope it passes.
Take care and remember to love yourself and let your kids comfort you a little.
October 8th, 2009 at 4:43 am
Your words move me in a way that I can not desribe, I think I speak for many people out here who feel your pain and wish there was a way we could erase it.
When it hurts so much it’s hard to even breath, remember you are never alone…NEVER
October 8th, 2009 at 8:35 am
Bravo, you. Been there. I applaud your strength.
October 8th, 2009 at 1:20 pm
A word at a time, a minute at a time, your goal is survival.
Grief has its own time-line and takes its own path for each person.
None of us can say what is right for you, only that you are an extremely talented writer and gifted person. Your imagination has created worlds which many days are much more interesting than the one in which we live.
Thank you.
October 8th, 2009 at 6:48 pm
Though our pathes may never cross, I send all my best wishes and prayers your way, Lilli. I have no words for you, no shoulder to cry on and I wish I could do something, anything, to help you the way you helped me several months aback (I was the one who thanked you for talking about your childhood and that by doing so, I knew I wasn’t alone nor was I crazy). My love, strength, admiration to you and yours during this difficult situation (transition?) times a million billion. Just please remember, no matter how low you feel, we care about you….and NEVER STOP WRITING!!! I am crawling the walls for the next Dru book (had to add that. Had to).
October 12th, 2009 at 11:32 am
Oh, Lilith!
I never knew you are having such a tough period in your life…I feel so stupid flooding you with e-mails and posts about the Series, thinking it must be a very important thing to do!!!
Just…forgive me as your crazy fan and let me send you my love and blessing as also a mother of two children.
No words can help now, I guess. Just remember the words of Solomon, the wisest man –
It too, will pass.
and I am SURE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You are going to know Happiness So High So Bright you will forget all your grieves eventually and will be only surprised how broken you felt.
There is NO way such a wonderful person as you are can be unhappy for long. You may say I don`t know you – but I know enough from you books. Though you make a joke that you write for money there is no way you could write such brilliant books as Dante or Jill Series without your Soul.
And it is gentle. And Kind. And Full of Light!!!!!!
Your fans from Russia Love you and send you our hugs and Support!!!
You WILL make it. We Believe in you. You are Great!!!