What's a Writer to Do When They're Just Too Tired to Write?

As a writer with a day job and a family, I used to burn my candle at both ends. When you're tired and trying to write creatively, you end up using cliches such as "burn my candles at both ends." The risk is real.

But truly, I pushed myself too hard each day with kids in the morning, working my day job, coaching the kids or taking them to appointments in the evening, and then "working" on my stories at night, after things quieted down. I also squeezed in exercise and dogs and whatever else I could do with my wife. I kept that going for too long, giving short shrift to my writing. The sad part is that I didn't accomplish much of note.

I went through a lot of candles and I was really tired.

One of my tricks was to exercise to awaken my brain. It might be eleven p.m. and I'm falling asleep, so I'd get on the treadmill, or maybe do some pushups and jumping jacks—enough for a regular workout—to both get the reps in and wake myself up. Then I'd stay up until one or two o'clock in the morning working on one of my creative projects.

As I mentioned, none of these projects resulted in huge wins for me.

I wasn't even young when I did this. I was in my 40s, thinking I could get by with five or six hours of sleep most nights, and occasionally getting three or four. I drank a lot of coffee.

I had strong commitments to my day job, my family, and the dogs. But I didn't know how to care for my creative self.

I was writing screenplays, TV pilots, and struggling with a novel at this time. The short sleep might have been manageable if I'd been able to nap when needed throughout the day. My office job frowned upon that.

Also, my family needed my time and attention.

I'm convinced, now, that one of the factors limiting my success with my creative efforts was the lack of sleep. I ended up with cliched stories with predictable plots and cardboard cutout characters.

In the ensuing years, I've read quite a few articles about the need for 7-9 hours sleep. At first, I thought I'd beaten the system. My combination of exercise and caffeine was a "life hack" that set me apart from normal folks.

Luckily, I didn't push myself into a breakdown. But it became obvious I wasn't going to write anything that someone wanted to read. So I eventually decided to listen to the advice about getting more—and better—sleep.

I was trying other restful things, as well: meditation, sensory deprivation and hypnosis. I noticed my mood improving, my appreciation of the world increasing, and my ability to learn about creativity was better.

Basically, without the stress of trying so hard to succeed, and the added trauma of pushing myself to work harder, the work itself became easier. My writing improved. I found my way to better teachers, and I took the lessons in writing, storytelling, and managing myself to heart.

Being a middle-aged person, I still have bad nights. My bladder is over-active. My worry about my family can ruin my sleep. Sometimes the dogs go a little crazy in the middle of the night and I can't get back to sleep

Whatever the case, after a lousy night of sleep I schedule a nap—at my lunch break, or right after work—so that I'm more alert the rest of the day.

I'd love to think I had it all figured out, that I dialed-in my evening routine to get to bed on time and enjoy restful sleep. But, each day, I have to revisit it and consciously plan my sleep. My job delivers different stress, my creative projects are in different stages, and my body has its own agenda most days. All that has to be factored into my sleep requirements.

The other day, after a reasonable night of sleep, I had the intention of working on my novel. But my day job comes first. After work, I had a playdate with friends for Ping-Pong (so much fun, didn't want to miss it). In the evening, I had to walk the dogs in bitter cold when I got home. At the end of all that, my brain shut down on me.

I considered my old trick of getting on the treadmill to wake myself up but decided that sleep would be better. In the morning, I had an important bit of work to do which required two solid hours of concentration.

With my brain shut down, I fell asleep quickly. My middle-of-the-night bladder-break was followed by another sleep phase. I woke up refreshed.

The work went well, and the rest of my day on the job was relaxed because I'd completed that work.

And here I am in the evening with three hours blocked off to write, reveling in my decision to sleep the previous evening, and ready to work on my novel.