How Writers Keep Going When They’re Exhausted, Overwhelmed, and Doubting Themselves

Lisa Cooper Ellison [0:01]
Well, hello everyone. Welcome to the Writing Your Resilience podcast. My name is Lisa Cooper Ellison. I am your resident story alchemist, and I am here today with Kristin Sancken and Lynn Shattuck to talk about what I think felt like the theme of 2025 that is bleeding into 2026: How do you keep the faith, right? How do you do that, especially when life is tough and it doesn’t look like that difficulty has an end in sight?

So that’s what we’re going to talk about today, and we’re going to share some personal experiences of what we experienced when we were in the middle of what I call The Empire Strikes Back of life. So, if you’re not familiar with that movie series, The Empire Strikes Back is the second of three movies in the original Star Wars trilogy. I am a Star Wars buff. I love it. So that’s one of my things.

But in the Star Wars series, there’s part one, and it’s basically these rebels against the Empire. And at the end of the first movie, the rebels seem to win, right? They blow up the Death Star, and it seems like everything’s going to be okay—except the main bad guy, Darth Vader. He survives this, and he goes on to wreak more havoc.

In the second movie, the Empire wins, and then it seems like all hope is lost. By the end of the movie, nothing good can happen, right? The Empire is stronger and the rebels are weak. But then we get to the third movie, which is Return of the Jedi, and everything ends up working out—though, of course, there are battles and struggles along the way.

So that’s kind of a framework for thinking about where we are in life, right? For many of us, we are in The Empire Strikes Back period, where whatever your representation of the Empire is—the thing that feels insurmountable—feels like it’s winning. And you have to figure out: How am I going to keep the faith in the middle of that?

So, let’s go ahead and get started. And I don’t know if Lynn or Kristin, you’d like to begin by sharing a story you have about keeping the faith?

Kristin Sancken [2:45]
Yeah, I can start. I think one of the things—when we discussed this topic for a podcast—I disclosed to everyone that I’m in the middle of multiple family crises right now, and most, if not all, of my writing projects are on the back burner because I really have to focus on caregiving: caregiving for my kids, caregiving for my father.

And when I graduated two years ago with my doctorate in writing, over the last two years it’s been really painful to watch all of my colleagues begin to publish their dissertations, begin to get book deals—begin—while I am just slogging through edits at this sloth-like pace, because the only time I have for edits is, like, the one hour on a Saturday or whatever that I can get to myself.

And so, I’m really struggling to see myself as a writer some days, and as someone with something important to say. I feel pretty overwhelmed by the daily needs of people who rely on me, and it’s really hard to keep the faith—or to believe that I was meant to write this book, or that I was meant to—when you’re just on a daily basis in survival mode.

And so, I want to say, like, and then it ended all well—but I’m in the middle of it right now. So, I’m trying to keep the faith and be like, it will end. And I don’t know what that ending is going to look like or how that might change my life, but to keep the faith and to be like, something’s going to be different.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [4:25]
Thank you for sharing that, Kristin. My heart is going out to you because, yeah, that is the hardest place to be: in the middle of the mess, right? And sometimes when I’m thinking about this, I’ll think about it in terms of a ravine, right?

What we would all love to do is be able to be on the top of the plateau and somehow leap over the ravine, versus having to climb down and then climb back up. But that low point where we are in the ravine, looking up at the sky above, can seem so far away. And the way to that top of the plateau can feel impossible.

So, thank you for sharing that with us. And I’m curious, Lynn, when you think about your own life and where you are in your writing projects and just everything, what’s that story for you?

Lynn Shattuck [5:35]
Yeah, so I think the time that I can relate to that is a couple years ago—so, like April 2024. It had just been kind of—I felt like I was on this series of trials. Just bizarre things kept happening. We had a couple storms that knocked our power out for three days. My daughter and I got lice when I thought we were well beyond that life stage.

And during that time, I was also working on the memoir that I’ve been wanting to write for basically, like, 25 years. And I got to a place where I had to put it aside because my nervous system—it was just too much. It wasn’t working. I was re-traumatizing myself. And it was a really hard decision.

But I decided that it was time to put that aside and work on other projects. You know, I had other projects that I was working on too, which was helpful—that were meaningful to me. And I didn’t know—you know, it’s like Kristin was saying—our lives only really make sense in reverse, right? When you get to the end and you know how everything came out. But when you’re in that messy middle, it’s just so uncomfortable.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [6:57]
Sorry—totally making sense.

Lynn Shattuck [7:01]
And then just recently, I’ve surprisingly kind of returned to that project that I left off. And when I look back at where I was with that project at the time, I’ve learned so much more about how to actually write a memoir.

So, whether that project ever comes to completion in the way that I’d like it to or not, the process—the process over the product—is kind of where I came to valuing. You know, we live in a capitalist society, and so we value the product. But writing isn’t a product. It’s an art. It’s a way of life.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [7:44]
Really, I love that. And you know what it makes me think about is how much we conflate our products with who we are, right? When we can hold a book in our hands, that means we are valuable, right? So, we become the product. But we forget that the journey is what’s important, right? So that’s the piece that we need to hold on to.

And oh my goodness, some of those journeys can be so rough.

And so, I’m going to share two journeys that coincided—or intersected—for me around this issue of being in that dark night of the soul.

So, when I was young, my brother died by suicide. Then I went back to school. And while I was in school, it became very clear I wanted to be a writer—I’d always wanted that—but I started to pursue that seriously. I graduated with my bachelor’s. Then I decided to take two years to work on a portfolio. At that time, I was working as a poet, and that was what I was going to go to school for—which, of course, we all know makes lots and lots of money, right?

But I was just passionate about poetry. I wrote all the time, and I really wanted to be a poet, and I wanted to teach writing to other poets. So that was my goal. I applied to all of these different programs across the country. I got waitlisted in one place, and then another place accepted me and gave me a full ride.

So that’s supposed to be that point where you’re cheering for yourself—like, “Yeah, I did it!” And inside, my nervous system was like, holy cow, this is terrible. And I was really struggling with: Is this what I want to do? Because I would have to leave everything I knew and travel across the country to live in this very small rural community where I would get my MFA. And there was just something inside me that was tearing me apart.

And of course, because my mind said, well, of course you have to say yes. Look, it’s the thing you’ve wanted. It’s what you should do. So, I said yes.

And then I spent a week of sleepless nights and just my stomach roiling, and I didn’t even feel like I could survive this internal turmoil. So, I called back and I said no—knowing that I may have disappointed them, but I was not expecting to actually be yelled at by the director of the program about how I had ruined chances for other people. He said a bunch of things that hit me really hard.

And, you know, to be fair to this person, maybe he didn’t say them in as harsh of a tone as I took it in. But maybe he did. I mean, it’s hard to say looking back because I don’t have a recording. But what I can say is that I was devastated. I felt like the smallest of the small. I felt smaller than an ant. And I definitely told myself that I didn’t deserve to be a writer. It didn’t even matter what I wanted—I didn’t deserve this because look at how much I’d screwed things up.

So, I quit writing for about four years. I told myself, I’ve blown my shot. I will never be a writer in the sense that I was thinking in my mind, and I will never teach writing. So, I just went along with life and got another degree. I got a master’s in teaching. I taught for a while, and I would write on the side because the call never left me—but I told myself it was hobby-level stuff.

Then I ended up getting a master’s in counseling. And then, lo and behold, I got Lyme disease, and I was so sick. I was in a second dark night of the soul, and it felt unbearable.

And every day, I would look at this blue Buddha I had on my shelf, and I would just say, “In five years, this will all be different.” That was my mantra. Then I would go for a walk and say it again and again and again. I was hoping that the more I said this and the more I set deadlines for getting well, that I would suddenly get well and it would all make sense.

That didn’t happen. Years went by. And then there was this one day when I was walking on this trail and I saw this red-winged blackbird and this bluebird—two birds that were very important to me. And I realized the first step to getting well, and then of course getting my life back on track, because I wasn’t working, was to give up.

And I gave up trying to get well. I realized I might die in this place where my body felt incredibly miserable, and I had to be okay with that.

So, I want to be clear: this was not me feeling suicidal. This was me giving up the expectation that I would be well and that getting well would make my life better. I had to be okay with my life as it was. And that became the process, the practice.

And as I did that, it was like a key unlocked a door for me. And then so many things changed in my life. And of course, now I’m on this podcast, and I talk about writing all the time, and I teach writing. So, when I was in the middle of it—just like the two of you—there was no way I could imagine that this is where I would be. Not in a million years. I thought my life was over at certain points in these journeys, and that it would never, ever, ever get better.

But I can say that it is different now. And I can look back and see how each of these moments was necessary, and it was necessary to confront them exactly as they were. And that’s really nice and easy for me to say looking back.

But what’s more important—especially for listeners—is if you are in the middle of this messy period in your life, this Empire Strikes Back dark night of the soul—what do you do with it? How do you maintain the faith that things could be okay in some fashion when it doesn’t look like it?

So, let’s talk about the strategies that we have used to get to where we are. Because even if you gave up in the past—if you’re still here—there’s a part of you that’s still fighting that battle. You are still moving forward. You are still a tenacious person who is persevering.

And even when it feels like there’s no faith, as long as you’re here on this earth, you’ve got a little. Even if it’s only the faith that would fit in a grain of rice—you have something.

Yeah. So—what did y’all do? Or what are you doing right now to keep the faith?

Kristin Sancken [15:10]
Yeah, I think one of the things—I actually learned this from another writer who has children. She started doing this because she had a spouse who worked full-time out of the home, and she was at home with the kids during the day. And I don’t think she created this—I think she learned it from another writer—but she calls it “dadderdays.”

So, it’s basically allowing Saturday to be a day when your spouse is completely in control of the household, and you leave the house for the day. I go to the library, and I have a favorite chair there. And I always tell myself, if I ever get published, I’m going to get a plaque to put on that chair—like, this was the chair that inspired this book—in this local library.

And I sit there all day. Maybe I leave to get a sandwich and come back, but it gives me the time I need in these heavy caretaking times—where I have a child who’s autistic and pretty high-needs, and my dad has Alzheimer’s. There are a lot of people in my life right now who need my presence.

So, to prioritize my own presence with myself, and to lean on the people who do want to give me that—my husband wants me to be happy. He doesn’t want me to be resentful of all the caretaking that’s required. He’s happy to step in and do “dadderdays” and be with the kids for the day. And it’s really the only way I was able to complete my dissertation: to set aside every Saturday, for three years, as my writing time.

Because there was no way I was going to—I am the type of person who needs deep work. I can’t write in 15-minute chunks. I know some people can do it—you know, while the kid’s on the soccer field, or while you’re taking the subway to work—but I need to wrap my whole head around what I’m doing. I need at least two to three hours.

And so, I just wasn’t getting much done. I was so frustrated with myself that I was like, why can’t I create the great American novel in the 20 minutes I have to myself every day? And then realizing, like, that’s actually a ridiculous expectation.

So, to really chunk it out and say, all right, this is when I’m going to do what I need to do.

And I think the other thing that really helps me keep the faith, especially when working on a big project like a book, is to publish something small. Yeah—put out a blog post, a Substack, submit a poem to a local literary journal. Do something that helps you be able to name it: I am a writer, and here’s a piece that proves it.

Because if you—any of us who’ve worked on a book know it takes years, right? Even if you’re a really successful book writer, it’s at least two years. But for me, it’s been eight years, or nine years, or 10 years, depending on the book. And it can be really discouraging to keep going after 10 years with no external feedback—or with very little external feedback.

So, to publish something small every now and then, just to remind myself: I am a writer. People do like what I have to say. And I do have a unique way of viewing the world. That really helps me stay with part of my brain in the writing world—both the time to write and the ability to stay connected to writing communities through publishing.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [18:38]
I love that. I love this idea of “dadderdays.” So, listeners, if you are a parent of small children, this could be a great opportunity for you to carve out some time for yourself. And yeah, focusing on those small wins and giving yourself an opportunity to experience them is super helpful.

So, Lynn, what about you?

Lynn Shattuck [19:02]
I think some of it for me—the struggle—was about worthiness. And when I say that, what I mean is: to write this memoir that I had been wanting to write forever, I let go of some paid work. And I really made some intentional life choices around that.

And so, to get to a point where I felt like it was time to shelve it was kind of like a reckoning with worthiness. Like, Am I worth that time of writing if nothing comes from it? And inherent in that is some privilege that I acknowledge—not everybody has the time and space and resources to do that.

But for me, what I had to reckon with was: if this project never goes anywhere, is there still worth in it?

And for me, there was—because writing is how I make meaning of things. It’s how I survive when things are hard. It’s really a lifeline for me. And even if nobody else ever saw those pages, I was still worth the time it took to write them.

Thanks. Yeah.

And the other thing: I took up crocheting around the same time this was all going on. And it was the first place in my life where I would be working on something for a while, and then it wasn’t going the way I wanted it to, and I would just pull the yarn out—and it was like, Whoa. You can just start over.

As a perfectionist, that was really a revelation. And so, I started to think, you know, can writing be like that too? Why does it have to be this constant aim for a finished project—this concrete—yes, we have books on our shelves, and that’s what most of us as writers want to have, is that product.

But what you don’t see in the product is sometimes years of playing around, and unspooling the yarn, and starting over again.

And that—

Kristin Sancken [21:21]
—and sometimes it’s really helpful, too. I’m glad you mentioned that, because the books—sometimes reading other memoirs gets you through, right? Like, yeah.

I think that’s what I rely a lot on. You know, when my child was first diagnosed with autism, I think I read six autism memoirs just to try to understand: What are they experiencing? What am I experiencing? What does this look like over the long term? It just gives you more of a frame of reference, and you’re less alone, right?

That feeling of aloneness can be so hard when you’re in the middle of crisis—like, no one understands what this is like. But then to read, like, oh no, someone does. And that’s the beauty of—to me—that’s the beauty of literature, right?

I think it was James Baldwin—maybe it wasn’t James Baldwin—who said the beautiful thing about books is that you read, and you say, Oh, you too. I thought I was the only one.

And so sometimes just being a part of that literature community—reading what other people have written about the same thing you’ve gone through—can be inspiring and can help you feel less lonely and can really help you stay connected to the faith.

And yeah, like you said, to read what other writers have done and to realize: Oh, lots of people have struggled with this. Like, it’s actually a very common experience to write a book and then be like, oh, this is total bullshit, right? And then to have to go back and rewrite the whole thing—like, that’s actually happened to every writer.

And that you’re not alone. And yeah, that’s a part of the process as well.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [22:58]
Yeah, I love that. And you know—yeah, I love that, and I think that is one of the reasons why I interview authors: because they all have a publication journey. They all have a story to tell.

And I don’t even know how many authors I have interviewed at this point, but every single one has talked about the struggle they faced as they were working on their book—and those points when they were like, I didn’t know if it was going to be a book, or It took me 10, 20, 40 years to get this story out and get it right.

When you read books that inspire you, and listen to podcast episodes or read interviews with your favorite authors—it normalizes the experience, right? It normalizes how long it takes, the struggles we have, because often when we see a published book, all we see is the success. We don’t see the struggle behind it—and also the play, right?

So, I’m so glad you brought that up, Lynn: that concept of play, and how playing around with your story is the fun. Because once you finish it, you have to say goodbye to it, right?

And what if this is the only book you choose to write? Some of you will only write one book. Some of you will write many books. And some of you may not write a book at all, because that’s not the journey you want to be on.

So, what do you want that process to look like? Do you want it to be filled with some ease, or hope, or play? Or do you want it to constantly be a battle? Because sometimes it may still feel like a battle, right? That part you may not be able to control.

But what can you control in the process? That’s the piece that is really important to understand.

And when I think about my own struggle through both of those—when I think back on first quitting writing and telling myself, you’re not good enough—it really was that story of worthiness, just like it was for you, Lynn. Like: Who am I, and what do I deserve to do, especially if I “screw up,” right?

Because that’s what I told myself: I screwed up, which meant I had failed, and therefore I was a failure.

So, for me, step one is understanding the story that you’re telling yourself. And you know, sometimes if you are deep in that, you don’t have the bandwidth to do that retrospective exploration—you can’t reflect because you’re just feeling.

So, if that is you, listeners—if you’re in the middle of it—just allow yourself to feel.

And as you’re allowing yourself to feel, try to pay attention to your feet and the ground beneath your feet. Let that be the first aspect of faith that you have. Because the miracle of gravity is: you may not understand it, you may not know how to calculate it—but guess what? Your feet are on the ground. It is happening.

And so, when I think about both of those times, walking—and when I was younger, running—played a huge part. Just letting my feet move, one in front of the other, didn’t just ground me—it made me feel like I was making some sort of progress toward something, even if it was the finish line of that run.

So, think about how you can use movement to help yourself.

And then the other piece that was really important to me—because I did all of these walks in nature—was that nature can be this teacher for you. It can teach you about faith.

And some things nature taught me along the way were: one, there are seasons. And sometimes we have seasons of rest, right? And that can be seasons of rest for our projects. And sometimes we have seasons of work.

And sometimes that season of work—or caregiving—doesn’t always line up with what you hope it will be, right? It can be something completely different.

And when we can just allow that—oh, if you’re in a season of motherhood, especially, that’s a season of caregiving with small children or high-needs children—that may be where your focus is for that period of time, right?

But that season will eventually end, and you will be in a different season.

And I saw that over those years that I walked that same path with those bluebirds and those red-winged blackbirds, because the season was constantly changing.

The other thing I learned along the way is: you know, to ask for signs. You don’t have to have a specific spiritual practice to ask for signs. But you can ask for something good, and you can look for it—or ask for something that just helps you feel okay with where you are.

And every time I would see the bluebird—which is now my spirit animal—that would help me feel okay.

And it’s really wild because where I live—like, my actual neighborhood—I am surrounded by bluebirds. I actually had some bluebirds that ended up nesting in this little rafter on my back porch, right?

So just ask for that.

And this is a piece of wisdom that I’m sharing with you now that I just recently heard. It hit me really hard, and it made me think back to that time: nature never rushes. Nature moves at the organic speed it is supposed to move, and it does not move any faster.

And yet we progress through the seasons. The seeds open and the flower blooms, and the tree gets filled with leaves, and then those leaves fall off—but it does so at the pace it’s supposed to.

And so when you’re thinking about your situation—whatever that is—whether it’s related to a book that you’re writing, or some other project, or just life in general—the more you can find a mantra that helps you ground into that experience, the deeper that experience is going to be.

So, just saying, Nature doesn’t hurry and neither do I, right? Nature doesn’t have to rush, and neither do I.

That’s a very simple thing you can say to yourself.

You can also borrow the mantra that I shared before, which is, in five years, it will be different, and I will understand something about this.

Who knows what that thing is that you’re going to understand, right? There’s no attachment to it. But simply saying that can help you ground into the moment and recognize that it’s okay. Your moment is okay—whatever it is.

The last thing I’m going to share—and it’s kind of a funny thing—and then I’m going to pass it to the two of you for a final word, is what’s called an “egg-laying breath.”

I have been doing this with so many people over the past two weeks, and it is really transformational. And that is because one of the ways to be grounded is to ground in your root—that is the lowest part of your abdomen. We often have very little connection to that in our lives.

And this particular breath is going to teach you how to do it. So, I’m going to share it right now, and then you can try it on your own.

So basically, what you do is: you’re going to inhale, and then as you exhale, you’re going to connect with what’s called your perineum. And I’ll put a link in the show notes as to what that is. But that is the muscles that you would contract or connect with for Kegel exercises, right? It is that space of tissue between your anus and whatever your genitals are based on your sex.

And so, you’re going to connect with that. And what you’re going to do is try to make that “smile.”

So, if you think of nothing else other than: Smile. Perineum. Smile. Perineum. Smile. Perineum. Or you think: Laying that egg. Laying that egg. And you’re just thinking—and you’re not doing anything else.

And if you’re not watching this on YouTube, everyone else is cracking up with this—then yeah, just do that as you breathe.

So, inhaling… laying the egg.

Just do that with me one more time: inhale… letting my perineum smile on the exhale.

And it’s fun, right? It’s fun and it’s funny. And that’s a piece of lightness you can add to your day while you’re also grounding yourself and allowing your body to know you are here, now, in this space.

And if you have enough bandwidth to talk about egg-laying and think about it in your mind, something about your experience is safe right now. And maybe it’s not safe all the time, but you can hold on to the safety of this moment.

So that’s one of my other strategies.

What would the two of you like to say as we wrap up? I’m going to pass the baton to you—Kristin first.

Kristin Sancken [32:14]
Yeah, I like how you talked about the mantras. And I feel like—I am the child of two recovering alcoholics, and I spent a lot of time in 12-step meetings just coloring on the floor while they were discussing things. And so, these slogans that are part of the 12 Steps feel like they’ve really become a part of my life.

And the two that stick with me right now, in this time of the messy middle, are: This too shall pass. Just remembering that nothing is permanent, and that in the grand scheme of life and the universe, this might be a remarkable period of your life, but it will likely be short. Kind of like what you were saying, Lisa, about: in five years, this is going to be different. So that’s been a really helpful one for me to repeat to myself.

The other one that’s a pretty famous slogan from a 12-step group is: First things first. And for me, that means—if I’m looking at Maslow’s hierarchy of needs—what is the first thing I need to do? I need to focus on what’s on the bottom of that pyramid. So, I need to make sure I’m eating well, I’m sleeping well, I’m getting daily time outside, that I’m doing something to move my body that I enjoy.

Those are my first things first. If I can’t do those things, I can’t expect myself to rise up the ladder of Maslow’s hierarchy. I can’t expect self-actualization. I can’t expect meaning-making. I can’t expect everything that’s required to be a writer.

And so, to say first things first is to say: I just need to stay right at this level. And if all I do today is make sure I eat three meals and get eight hours of sleep and make sure my kids do the same—that’s the first thing. Whereas writing is the fifth or sixth thing that might be further down the list.

So, this idea that, yes, I can do hard things, but I don’t have to do them all the time. And what I really need to do is the first thing.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [34:14]
That is so beautiful. Lynn, what about you?

Lynn Shattuck [34:18]
Yeah, I have kind of three things that I’m thinking of.

The first is just the reminder that memoir writing is really, really hard. It is really hard. And yeah, it can take a long time—and I think there’s good reason for that.

The second is just looking at our lives as cyclical. And I think, especially as women, that is kind of the nature of our lives—we do go in these cycles. There are cycles of caregiving and cycles of creativity, and probably lots of cycles in between.

And then the third thing is thinking of writing as an act of devotion. This is something Lisa mentioned the other day, and it’s just been circling around, buzzing in my ear all week. The act of showing up over and over again is almost like going to church, right? You don’t go to church expecting a specific outcome. You go and you worship.

So, to think of writing as that—to show up to the page as an act of devotion. Process over productivity again.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [35:42]
Yeah, yeah, I love that. First things first. Focus on the process. Consider this as an act of devotion, right?

So, what activities in your life are an act of devotion or an act of worship—where the outcome isn’t the point? It’s simply to be with whatever is and to do whatever that task is.

And yeah—recognize that wherever you are, in five years it will be different. And you will be able to see something about this time in your life, or whatever struggles you’ve had before. And when you look back and you see the miraculous—and the miracles that happened for you, even in the toughest of times—holding on to those miracles can be the thing that gets you through whatever you’re going through now.

So just know, writers—we’ve been there. We are still there, right? We are still going through this process. Because life is a process filled with cycles. Sometimes you’re in Return of the Jedi and you’re in the victory, but sometimes you’re in The Empire Strikes Back. And either way, it is all okay.

So, thank you for listening, and thank you, Kristin and Lynn, for sharing your insights and your wisdom with everyone. It has been a gift to spend time with you.