“I’m a Writer. Therefore, I Am not Sane”

The words in the title are not mine. They’re Edgar Allan Poe’s. When I shared this quote a few days ago, they resonated strongly with the writing community.

I come from a philosophical background. And while I was studying it, I couldn’t help noticing that many philosophers had complex psyches.

When I became interested in literature, I noticed that these authors were not spared either. Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Lovecraft, Rousseau, Kafka… They all had pain at the center of their lives. Physical or mental.

Montaigne wrote his greatest works locked away in a tower for years because of a broken heart. There are countless writers who have experienced major periods of depression.

While exploring art, I realized that artists are often subject to great questioning.

The great Michelangelo wrote these lines:

“I lead a miserable existence and reck not of life nor honor — that is of this world; I live wearied by stupendous labors and beset by a thousand anxieties. And thus I lived for some 50 years now and never an hour’s happiness have I had.”

This man who had built wonders felt unhappy. In his letters, he recounted his suffering. His hand problems, too, which seemed to be arthrosis, made him suffer terribly.

When studying the lives of artists. Physical or mental suffering never seems far away.

Mental health seems to be the Pandora’s box of the writing career. It’s a bit of a taboo subject. We talk about it but we never open the box.

“You’re weird. How can you like to isolate yourself for hours and stay in front of a screen? Or blackout pages? Alone.”

I’m sure you’ve heard these words before. Or some variation. I have. And I know my friends and family think I’m “weird”. “Lonely. “In my world.” They don’t understand why I like being alone so much. What I do alone for hours or days on end.

And I must confess that I thought writing was a “special” activity. Writers and artists are a special. We NEED solitude. We need extreme concentration for hours on end. Or we can’t produce.

When you’re in your own world, you can’t stand the incursions of the outside world. Noises, interruptions, phone calls. They become unbearable when you’re in the flow of your art.

Writers have this natural need to isolate themselves to produce. The outside world thinks the writer is alone, but he’s not. In his head, thousands of ideas collide to keep writing hundreds or even thousands of words a day.

He is accompanied by his words, his characters, his audience… To be able to write, he visualizes numerous scenes. He looks passive in front of his screen. But in a few hours, he can travel the world. Travel to places that don’t even exist. Live adventures that only he can experience. Imagine multiple scenarios for the perfect sequel to his stories. The writer may look lonely, but is he?

Here we have one of the first dangers lurking. Writers shut themselves away in their own world. And never come down to see others. They isolate themselves, they’re happy in the worlds they create. Their lives are lived solely through the prism of writing. Everything else becomes irrelevant.

Writers and artists must be careful not to enclose themselves in impenetrable, unbreakable bubbles of their own making.

The writer’s second challenge is to earn a living from his writing. Writing a book is probably one of the hardest things to do. The work is colossal. I often say :

“If you can write a book, you can do anything in life.”

And I mean it.

The passionate writer finds himself in a difficult situation.

Some write and make no money. Some don’t have the time to write, they work but are unhappy because they can’t find the time to get their stories out.

Exhausted by their day’s work. They can’t write the stories they hold in their hearts. Their dreams are crushed by the economic pressure our society produces.

They are faced with an insoluble problem. The snake bites its tail. Ouroboros.

How can you continue to make art and keep your sanity?

I don’t believe in the tortured artist. It may work. But that’s not how I want to imagine my life.

I don’t believe in the fatality of being unhappy in order to produce great art.

I don’t want to be unhappy, even if it would eventually make me write great stories.

I don’t believe in pain as a primary source for writing stories. Yes, pain is useful. But it can’t be the sole source of inspiration.

I believe in healthy writers and artists. Mental and physical. Who thrive in their lives and their art. Who love what they produce. Who take pride in their work.

To those who aspire to live this life. I say it often and I can’t say it often enough. You must include in your routine:

• Enough sleep
• Good nutrition
• Exercise

It won’t solve all your problems. But it does act as a safeguard. By taking care of ourselves, we erect protective barriers against external attacks.

You need to take care of yourself.

The physical machine, which is your body. It will give you the energy you need to produce your art.

The mental machine, which is your mind. It will give you the creative energy you need to produce your art.

If you neglect one or the other. At some point, the machine will stop. Burnout. You’ll have to spend some time repairing it before we can hope to restart it.

If you don’t like exercising. Walking is excellent. A long 20–30 minute walk. No phone. Alone. Or with a loved one. Or a friend. It’s a breath of fresh air that will take care of your body and mind.

Even if our writing cave is our favorite place, writers must also force themselves to socialize. Call friends, call family. Stop shutting ourselves away in our bubbles.

For those with partners, take care of the partner. Passions ruin couples. Too caught up in the flow of our stories, we mustn’t forget that our partners have needs.

We must continue to be there for them. Sometimes we don’t realize that we’re neglecting our partners for our stories. We have to thank them for supporting us in our adventures. It’s hard to live with a writer.

We have to have moments when we stop writing. We breathe. We need to live beautiful adventures to be able to write beautiful ones.

Our lives can’t revolve around writing alone. That would be insane.

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