Obsessions vs. Balance (and why I'm not writing right NOW)

In a Q&A I watched recently with human-centered marketing expert Dan Blank, he said something that rubbed me the wrong way in the moment, but because of that, I’ve been turning it over in my mind ever since. Today, it finally clicked.

Answering a question about how often an author should use the strategy they were discussing, Dan said, “I don’t believe in balance. I believe in obsessions.”

As someone who strives for balance in my life constantly and feels awful when I’m out of it, I didn’t like that at first.

But now I think I understand what he meant by that—at least, I understand what it should mean for me.

I don’t think that means, “You should forsake all sense of balance and perspective and totally obsess over something past the irreversible point of salvaging everything else (such as your health, your relationships, your finances).”

I think it actually means the opposite.

I think it means that some people work best by immersing themselves in a project. Not dividing up their attention and energy to do everything, all at once, not chasing nonurgent and unimportant tasks (7 Habits, anyone?), and certainly not doing every single side quest before the main plot ones (cough, totally me in games but shouldn’t be IRL).

The “obsession” that Dan is talking about could actually be balance, for some people. It’s identifying what has to be done in order to succeed at a goal that has to be met … and then doing it with all your might until it’s done. Which actually saves the person who works that way a lot of the energy they would have spent puttering around on the side keeping the other, much less important plates spinning—which they are doing only because that’s what everyone says they’re supposed to be doing. Except straining themselves in that way, scattering their attention and energy, is actually causing imbalance. For them, the most important plates are falling.

And I realized (again) that I am one of those people. No matter how hard I have tried to be otherwise, to be the author who can do it all, all at once … I'm not.

Obsessions and my author domains

I have had a lot of “obsessions” over these past three years, each of which has catapulted me further, until finally I am where I am today. (Still with a long, long journey ahead, but I gain strength to go on by appreciating how far I’ve come.) Every time I have made the greatest strides, it has been from an intense, extended focus on tackling the next most important thing. Not at the complete neglect of everything else, but certainly devoting most of the type of brainpower required for that project to that project, and to that project alone.

That was why, at the beginning of this year, I divided my author career into three domains: not only were each essential, each required a distinct part of my brain, a different type of energy.

1. Writing

2. Admin

3. Outreach

These were the three domains in which I had to keep at least one plate spinning, constantly. The other plates could be seasonal, but these three needed at least one spinning plate—one obsession, if you will—each to keep my career in balance. And they are the three natural rivers of energy that flow from me.

Writing

Writing, for me, requires what is sometimes called the “right brain” (scientifically inaccurate, yes, but it’s useful shorthand for this kind of thinking, so I’ll use it). The creative, wondrous, even spontaneous side of me. It’s the most exhilarating side … but it’s also the most exhausting right now. It’s a rollercoaster, requiring ups and downs. It’s a match: once it’s lit, it will burn through its course until it’s gone, and I need to light a new one. And for some creative work, I only get so many matches per day. (About four, to be specific. More on that later.)

Admin

Admin is easy for me. Weird for a creative person, but true. It’s really almost effortless, often enjoyable. It’s my escape; when I’m procrastinating something at work, I do admin—just like some people go on social media, I guess. (Inner shudder. No offense to anyone who loves and can survive that jungle. I tip my hat to you. I just … can’t. The very thought of entering gives me hives every time.)

Admin is even regenerative at times, especially when I’m planning, organizing, or masterminding something. Unlike with my creative exertion, I reliably get a high off doing one of those three types of admin that is actually restorative. Unsurprisingly, I’ve been leaning into a lot of planning, organizing, and masterminding lately, to get a handle on things and restore myself from my exertions in the other two domains.

(Don’t get me started on my recent discovery of Notion. I’ve liked and used OneNote for years—heck, I wrote the first drafts of books 1-3 in it—but that was an open-eyed high school crush on a simplistic boy. I always knew OneNote had problems, and I couldn’t get why it wouldn’t grow up and do what I needed it to. Now I’m officially in love, and it’s with the much more mature, deep, and competent Notion. 😍 “Where have you been all my life,” etc. A saga, alas, that keeps repeating itself for me with many of Microsoft’s products. I want to love them, I do. I want them to work together in one beautiful, seamless master system, so badly … but they don’t. They just don’t. But don’t worry, Word—you’re still the first word processor in my heart. For now…. 👀)

Outreach

Outreach would be the most exhausting domain for me—so exhausting, in fact, that it would be utterly unsustainable—if … I did it the way people expect authors to do it. You know, the PR stuff: get on TV and podcasts, post constantly on social media, pitch a dozen people a day, all that jazz.

But, knowing myself as I do, I said, “Thanks, but no can do,” from the very beginning. (Not saying I won’t dip my toes into that stuff eventually, but that will be when I can afford a lot of support.) So, from the beginning, I carefully pieced together a strategy that was sustainable for me on my own, and from all my extensive research … it’s actually the stuff that works just fine.

I’ve even got something of a rhythm going on right now, so actually, this piece of my business is humming along as happily as can be expected for this stage of my career, just like the admin piece.

It’s the writing piece that’s having technical difficulties right now. Well, not really, but here’s what I mean.

Grow/perform/rest

It occurred to me as I was thinking about this that I cycle through at least three distinct periods in my professional life:

1. A growth period, in which I foray into the unknown, drink from the firehose of information about a topic, test new tools and methods, and gain skills rapidly, propelling me toward…

2. A performance period, in which I coast on all the work from the previous period and glide, as if on a warm updraft, to new heights of grandeur. It’s a lot of fun, but it’s not possible to keep up forever, since it still requires constant vigilance—always being "on." Eventually, I need…

3. A rest period, in which I’ve run out of fuel, even from gliding, and need to land the plane and do maintenance while I recover.

I’ve had to do a lot of growing and performing these past three years. First, in 2023, I wrote the first series, a performing period coasting on a lifetime of writing as a hobby. Then, in 2024, I had explosive growth in learning the publishing ropes to get those books into the world. This year, 2025, has been yet another growth year in the admin domain. Yes, I technically established my author business at the beginning of 2024, but this year, 2025, was the year I had to really dig into the nitty-gritty details of finances, promotions, systems, routines, and so on, laying the foundation that will support me for years to come. I wouldn’t be able to sustain a writing career without the flagstones I’ve been putting in place.

In fact, I had to go through so much growth (and so much growth and performance for the managing editor job I had for the first half of this year), that I’ve had to forgo the perform phase for my writing domain and do a lot of resting in that area to recover from the other two.

Don’t worry—it’s not writing burnout or even writer’s block. It’s the fertile resting of seeds germinating in late winter, preparing to shoot forth in spring. The plans I have for the next series keep going around and around in my head, getting further polished with each tumble. I think that when I finally get the chance to immerse myself in that new world, the words are going to pour out of me like a flood … much like they did when I wrote the Blood of the Covenants series.

I’m still excited. I’m still eager. And now, having laid my business foundation, I’ve regained my confidence in my future in this career. I just have to finally accept that right now is not the time for me to dive in. Not this moment. (Not this month, and probably not the next couple.)

Why? So glad you asked.

The problems with starting a writing obsession right now

Having done my business, finances, and systems audit over these past couple months and finally feeling comfortable enough with where I’m at and where I’m going, I really thought I’d be able to continue writing the next series this morning [I wrote this post yesterday, so that was "the morning" in question].

This is the day! I thought. And I was excited.

However, when I started really thinking through the logistics (OK, I need to reread what I’d written a couple months ago, need to get my head back into the character’s mind, need to make all the tweaks I’ve thought of to the world-building, need to look up some things and decide on some others), I realized that I just would not be efficient if I wrote right now.

Problem 1: I only have so much right-brained (or creative) power each day—and for me, narration uses it up

If creative energy can be measured in hours, I’d say I’ve got about three to four hours in me in a day. (Actually, before I get too down on myself about that, I have to remind myself that’s pretty good, considering how they say that humans can only effectively work that long a day.)

So I don’t think I can spend all my creative juices in the morning, leaving none for what I really have to get done right now: recording the audio for the final two books in the Blood of the Covenants series. I will get them done. I must.

And audiobook recording does require a lot of creative juice, perhaps all I can spare that day.

It requires intense focus and depth of feeling, and it draws on all my powers of articulation and performance: the exact same energy and parts of my brain I use to write, except in an even higher pressure, more distilled setting. (No wonder I feel so exhausted after a recording and editing session.)

Problem 2: My brain can’t switch between my fictional universes and (perhaps most importantly) my different casts’ heads efficiently

I knew this about myself, already. Mostly. Knew my need for working by obsessions, anyway. But, feeling the pressure to write, now, I made a plan. A brilliant plan. A plan that would allow me to circumvent harness that aspect of my nature to its fullest.

I would give each of my domains days of the week. That would reduce the mind-switch burden, right? Monday would be admin; Tuesday through Thursday would be writing-focused activities, including recording, which would be in the afternoons, with actual writing in the mornings. And Friday would be outreach.

Which worked great … for everything except the morning writing part. See problem number one, which I finally had to accept, and then the final straw, when I actually felt energetic this morning and tried to make myself do it anyway.

I couldn’t switch minds. And this time, I mean character minds. Knowing I had an intense chapter from Ben’s perspective coming up that afternoon, I couldn’t make myself enter the mind of my new protagonist, let alone the snarky side character I was supposed to be writing from the perspective of today.

That’s when I finally had to raise the white flag and surrender to my limitations.

Even if I had the creative energy, I just don’t think I can efficiently immerse myself in one universe for half a day, three times a week, and tear myself out again for the afternoon to record, only to repeat the next writing morning, which would require a review of what I’d just written/decided/researched to get re-immersed.

It’s more than just the world-switching, although that is quite significant. Most crucial of all, though, is the character-switching. For me to write and to narrate, I have to get into character. I have to get in their head. I have to speak their thoughts. It’s not hard for me to switch between Sarah and Ben; they are old, old friends by now. If I talked in my sleep, I could probably talk as one of them. And their story follows the same thread; they’re just taking turns telling it. But my new protagonist, whom I’m still getting to know? (But already adore.) In her brand new, wildly different world, with its brand new cast?

That’s another realm entirely. Literally.

There’s another way for me (I just have to finally accept it…and ask for your patience)

I winced sometimes as I wrote this post out, worrying that some of you reading this are thinking I’m a wimp. Or privileged, or whatever. An unrealistic, temperamental artist. (Is there any label I’ve subconsciously tried harder to avoid? Therein lies the cipher to my backstory, should you care to decipher it.) That the tale as old as time is of some writer only just eking by, burning the midnight oil, writing in ink made from their own blood, etc., and I should pay my dues. Or maybe you’re not, and all I’m hearing are my insecurities. When I confront myself so blatantly like that, I’m pretty sure they’re just my insecurities. But dang, they’re loud, ya know?

Those voices tell me that…

Some authors can do that mind-switch multiple times a day, every day. But I just don’t think I’m that kind of author. I’ve tried to make myself be all year, but I just don’t think I can switch mindsets that efficiently. My ideal (and perhaps my only sustainable) method requires complete immersion. An obsession.

Some authors don’t have to do that mind-switch multiple times a day, every day. They can outsource enough of the business/promotion/narration side of things that they can spend at least most of their day writing, all year round, decreasing the ratio of time spent switching vs. deep working. But I can’t right now. (Am I green with envy? Maybe a tinge.)

Some authors, like me, can’t do that mind-switch efficiently, but, unlike me, don’t have any other option, so they have to stop for years or crawl along at a hundred words per day. This is the loudest voice inside my head, calling me all sorts of names I don’t need to reiterate here. Somehow, I have something akin to (even though it pales in comparison with) survivor’s guilt, a shame that I am so lucky to have more options. (Or cursed? Because the call of destiny—which I did try to resist for years and still kind of resist daily now—often feels more like a curse, ya’ll.)

Now I have to tell that voice to shut up. I have to tell myself that I can afford to wait until my creative plate clears up (when I finish the audiobooks). At least, I keep telling myself I can wait. It doesn’t feel like it. But I can. I know in the deepest, most still and peaceful depths inside myself that I can, even if the surface is a raging tempest.

Even though I really don’t want to wait. I’m so excited to get started. I love these next books so much; I had them half-written before I ever sat down to write out the Blood of the Covenants series. (Technically, I’ve already written book one and half of book two, but book one, at least, is bad enough that I have to rewrite it from scratch.) The only reason I didn’t start with these next books when I began this journey in earnest is because I knew I needed to level up my skills at least a few more times to be more worthy of them. The past three years of starting my writing career, writing the Blood of the Covenants, and drinking from the firehose of publishing and writing information have been that leveling up.

And I don’t want to disappoint you; I appreciate more than I can say the encouragement you all have given me and how excited you are to read what I write next. I got an email from yet another person this week telling me how my books are getting her through a tough time and how I should keep writing, and that made my week. I can’t tell you how much I wish I could wave a wand and hand over the next book inside my head. I want that just as much as you. Probably more, tbh.

Plus, a writer is supposed to always be writing, right? Ha, wrong. I have to admit to myself when I confront that statement that every writer has their own style and needs. (Perhaps especially writers. Maybe I’m biased, but I’m not sure I’ve heard of as much extreme variation in any other profession.) Unfortunately, that doesn’t change the public’s perception or lessen the pressure, even from my peers, who appear to be publishing left and right. “Publish or perish” isn’t just an axiom of academia. So, even though it’s false (in the sense that we don’t literally die by not publishing a book), I still have to fight the mountain of subconscious messaging.

Still, I succumbed to that pressure for a while and tried to make it work. The Plan, and all that.

Yet when the stars supposedly aligned this morning, and I had no more excuses, and I thought things through—really thought things through—to my dismay, I estimated I’d spent at least a sixth to a third of my writing time each day getting re-immersed.

That’s unacceptably inefficient to me when my energy is better spent undivided—in other words, finishing the audiobooks faster so I can turn my undivided creative energy to writing sooner.

What that means in practical, concrete terms: my goal is to finish the fifth audiobook this month and the sixth and final audiobook by the end of the year. (But boy, that’s a long one, and it’ll be a doozy.) Then I can fully give myself over to the writing fever, and I hope to have the next three books pounded out by the end of the first quarter of 2026. Optimistic? Definitely. But I did pound out The 400k Behemoth (Blood of the Covenants books 1-3) in three-ish months, so I’ll aim for the moon, anyway.

Hey, at least that’s the good news in all of this, right? If it’s a disappointment to hear that I won’t be consistently writing until I finish the audiobooks, well, at least take comfort in the fact that I’m done dividing my writer self in pieces. That, hopefully, fully mentally dedicating myself to the audio race will help me reach the finish line all the faster.

That when I finally start writing, it will be all the better for it.

I hope you can be patient with me until then. I’ll do my best to be patient with me, too.

Don’t worry. Gwen says she can wait. (That’s her name, by the way 😉).