I'm sure you know what burnout is, whether you've experienced it or not. Here's how I think about the two main kinds of writers' burnout.
There's the occasional temporary burnout caused by real world issues, such as trying to work with demanding bosses (editors), dealing with the marketplace (your book isn't selling), or having taken on too much work all at once.
Also, a chaotic political situation like the one we have currently—one that calls to many of us to "do something"—may even make writing itself feel trivial and unworthy of our effort.
That kind of situational burnout can sometimes be alleviated by taking some time off, reminding yourself that you wouldn't trade places with anyone else in the world, especially not someone with a corporate job and no flexibility, refreshing yourself with a good rest, sharing time with like-minded others.

FINDING FLOW

There's another form of burnout that I take to mean your psyche is trying to tell you that you must change something in your life. This kind of burnout is an opposite of being in flow. Being in a flow state, readers of mine know by now, means losing track of time because you're so engaged in what you're doing that nothing else matters and you'd rather be doing that than anything else, no matter whether there's a reward out there for it or not.
Finding frequent flow means living a life that's congruent with your deepest self as much of the time as you can manage.


When I interviewed many dozens of successful novelists and poets (successful meaning they're writing regularly and pretty much liking it), and by also talking to lots of my nonfiction colleagues, I came to see that what's needed to counteract big-time burnout is knowing how to get into flow more often in your life and work.


In a nutshell: consider why you're writing. Think of ALL the motivators. Get in touch with the strongest ones. Concentrate on those. It helps if you feel that what you're doing is the most meaningful thing in the world right now. Then seek out ways to focus on those kinds of writing tasks that most fulfill that meaningfulness for you.
It's fine to write for money, but if you only do it for the dough, then burnout is more likely to keep returning. It's also fine to write for the sheer fun of it, and that's what a lot of creative writers do. Thoughts of an audience and publication typically come later.
When I was a nonfiction freelancer, some assignments made me crazy. I understood that all jobs have crazy-making aspects. But I refused to spend the rest of my life fighting craziness. For me, this meant turning away from writing for magazines and concentrating on book projects. All the years I spent writing my first novel, Kylie's Heel, I rarely experienced burnout.

MORE TIPS

• Find a compatible writers group, a few people you can laugh with, commiserate with, and with whom you can plan meetings that meet your needs. Do creative exercises then and there, or bring a page in to read aloud, or share concerns. A non-critical friendly audience's reaction can get you revved up to go home and write.
• Think hard before taking on writing tasks that bore you, especially if the pay is only so-so. Time is all we have, and years have a way of slipping by with no progress toward our most cherished goals, 
• If you have low energy, that can contribute to depression and burnout. Are you doing everything you can to be the healthiest you want to be?
• Remind yourself of your alternatives: A corporate office job? Driving daily in rush hour and dealing with critical bosses? Going back to school? Spending less so you don't have to make as much and can write more of what you want?
• Declutter a lot of your older paper archives. Whenever I've tossed a folder related to something I used to think I'd write about, but in which I no longer have any interest, I feel more free to start something new. New is exciting