by Steven B. Orkin
My semi-niece
(it’s a little complicated) Kate started a blog last week. It’s a very good
blog and I have high hopes for it. Here’s the link:
https://medium.com/@kathleen.bauer77/blogs-first-writers-block-send-help-c859bc6574f1
After reading
Kate’s post, my first thought was to just add a comment to it conveying a few
thoughts on the matter, but I almost immediately realized I had too much to say
and didn’t want to clutter her blog with a blog post of my own, so here we are.
If you do a
websearch on a phrase like “How to overcome writer’s block”, you’ll get
hundreds, maybe thousands of links. Many of them are written by people
far more experienced and talented than me, but I’d like to think my perspective
on the matter is nevertheless distinctive enough to warrant expressing it.
Side Note: Lesson #1 for
writing a blog (or anything, really): Audacity. Assuming you’re better than all
the other bloggers out there is arrogant (or delusional, or painfully insecure,
or all three). Assuming you’re different than all the other bloggers and
that you have something to say that no one else can say in quite the same way is
audacious (in a good way).
Anyway, the bulk
of Kate’s first post deals with the perils of writer’s block. Though she has a
casual, often playful tone, she articulates a hard and serious truth: There’s a
lot more to writer’s block than not being able to write. Indeed, there are some
pretty heavy duty psychological, philosophical, and even spiritual components
to it. Further, the matter of writer’s block goes beyond the craft of writing,
to some extent.
Toward the end of
her post, she poses two questions:
- What
are some tips and tricks you have used to overcome writer’s block?
- How
do you do go about picking a topic that you feel will engage readers, but also
interests you?
My short answer
for both is the same: Faith.
The longer answer
is that there are indeed techniques to address both questions. We’ll start with
writer’s block (WB).
WB is difficult to
define because how you perceive it is to a very good extent dependent on how
you perceive the ability to write. Though there are obviously skills and
techniques that contribute to being a good writer, the craft for me is
nevertheless a near-spiritual pursuit, regardless of whether I’m writing a
novel, poem, essay, or technical document. I cannot say where the words come
from. I often feel like I’m taking dictation rather than writing them on my
own.1
Consequently, I
would define WB as an inability to access your creative channel (as in conduit,
not TV station). Sufferers cannot bring themselves to create. Sometimes, they
desperately want to, but can’t. Sometimes, they lose interest in doing so.
Why is this? What
causes it?
A lot of it is
fear-based anxiety, which encompasses stuff like fear of failure, fear of
success (or both at the same time; yes, it’s possible), fear that despite your
passion for the craft, you have nothing to say that people will appreciate,
and/or that even if you do have something to say, you’re a terrible writer,
or that maybe you have both talent and marketable ideas, but no one will care.
Writers have a way of paralyzing themselves. As with most people, we tend to be
our own worst enemies. We sometimes (or often) treat ourselves (and our
writing) with a brutality we’d never employ on anyone else.
In her post, Kate mentions
that she took a writing class to help her address the matter of WB but that “The
textbook said that a big part of it was buckling down, quitting your whining,
and doing the work as writer’s block isn’t a real thing.” I think this
sentiment is unduly harsh and quite naïve in its presumption that WB isn’t a “real
thing”. Granted, it’s not a diagnosable condition, but it can still be very psychologically
debilitating.2 It almost invariably leads to mangled thinking and
feeling along the lines of, “I’m not a ‘real’ writer.” “If I can’t get myself
to write, I must not have anything important to say.” “I should just give this
up.” These sentiments are inaccurate to the point of dysfunction.
That said, there
is a degree of truth in the textbook’s assessment in that writing absolutely
requires discipline. You can’t be an artiste about it and ‘just write when I’m inspired’.
You’ll end up with a short story twenty years in the making. You also can’t just
write ‘when I have time.’ You’ll get the same result. You have to make
the time. Ideally, you’d be able to block out three or four hours a day in your
cozy little writing nook where you’ll write two or three thousand words of your
Great American Novel each session. In reality, you might get an hour a few days
or nights a week sitting at the kitchen table. Pick a time and place that will work for you, and do your
best to stick to a realistic, achievable schedule. Don’t beat yourself up if
you miss a session. Just put more effort into making the next one. Be thankful for what you HAVE created. Don't obsess over what you haven't. Even if you only get ten words down, it's ten more than you had the day before.
One of the best
ways to ultimately surmount WB is through consistency. Once you set your
schedule, it’s entirely possible that on your first session, you won’t get past
typing “Chapter 1” at the top of the page. The next session, you might get a
hundred words down. Over time, you can train yourself to open your creative
channel pretty much whenever and wherever you need to or want to. The volume
and quality of your output WILL improve over time if you’re even relatively
consistent. I can write pretty much anywhere. Maybe it’s 15 minutes in a doctor’s
office. Maybe it’s 2-3 hours at Barnes & Noble or my local library. Maybe
it’s sitting on a beach.3 You have to trust that the creative energy
is in you and that it wants to come out and play. You have to give yourself
permission to let it flow, come what may. It’s possible that on some occasions,
the end result will suck. All that means is that you’ve got some editing to do.
Though there may be very rare occasions when something you’ve written just
doesn’t work, requiring a total do-over or even abandoning the project, that is
very far from the norm. It’s an extreme last resort. Nine times out of ten,
there’s something worth saving, something fixable. Don’t allow your inner
critic to deter you from creating. When your “anxiety ballerina” (as Kate beautifully
puts it) begins her dance, deflect her offstage. You don’t necessarily have to
be acrimonious with her, e.g., “Get the fuck out of here, bitch!” but
you do have to be firm and resolute: “Listen, I know you think this is a
terrible idea, but we’re doing this. I want to create and that’s exactly what I’m
going to do. Conversation over.” You must act under the assumption (even if
you don’t actually believe it, yet) that it’s okay for you to write, that you’ve
got something to say, and that you’re capable of writing well.
Kate also mentions
that one of the ways she beats back WB is by working on more than one project
at a time. It’s an excellent technique, one I use constantly. I ALWAYS have
more than one project going (at the moment, I’ve got too many of them). There
are times when you can write yourself into a corner on Project 1. Having
Project 2 and even Project 3 to switch gears to keeps your creative channel
flowing while your subconscious works out your Project 1 problem.4
You can’t force or
rush your ability to solve creative problems and/or open/reopen your creative channel,
but you have to wield it with conviction. You can’t approach it from a passive
perspective of, “I really hope I can figure this out.” You have to
consciously set aside your insecurities and self-doubts (if it helps, visualize
boxing them up and shoving them in a closet or whatever image works for you) and
rephrasing “I really hope…” to “I WILL figure this out. The answer
WILL come to me in time. I trust in my creative spark to resolve this impasse.”
When you turn on your water faucet, you have an expectation that water is going
to come out of it. When you flick a light switch, you have an expectation that
the light is going to turn on. Creativity works the same way. It’s not about arrogance
or bravado. It’s about confidence. It’s about trust. It’s about faith in your divine,
creative energy. The reaction / resolution you’re looking for is unlikely to be
as instantaneous as a faucet or light switch, but if you invest that faith in
your creativity, if you set aside your self-doubt and replace it with
self-confidence, your creativity WILL respond with the same level of certainty.5
Let’s move on to
Kate’s second question:
How
do you do go about picking a topic that you feel will engage readers, but also
interests you?
This one’s much less
complicated. Successful writers write what they want to read, under the
assumption that their passion for the topic will be contagious. Indeed, trying
to write ‘what readers will like’ is a one-way ticket to mediocrity. You have
to have faith in your ability to discover topics of interest. You have to have
faith that what you have to say about those topics will engage readers because they
have engaged you. Though all writers want the validation of others
reading their work, ultimately, we do it for ourselves. We do it because we have
to. We do it because we love it. We do it because it helps keep us sane. For
me, writing is a way of making sense of the world, regardless of whether I’m working
on my fantasy novel or writing a blog post.
You have to listen
to what’s going on around you and what’s going on in your own head. Over time,
you’ll intuitively know when you’ve got something.
This post is a
perfect example of this concept. I had no particular thought about writing about
WB and creativity. Kate’s essay sparked it. Do I question my ability to cover
the topic effectively? Yes. Do I worry that no one will care? Yep! Ultimately,
those questions don’t matter. All I can do is open the channel, get the words
down, and hope for the best.
Thank you for
reading.
~~~
Footnotes
- 1) My foremost literary icon, Harlan Ellison, hated the
dreaded query, “Where do you get your ideas?” because as any writer knows, it’s
a ludicrous question. You get them EVERYWHERE! In the shower, at the
supermarket, lying in bed, during a conversation, on an airplane, doing
laundry, walking the dog, during road trips, eating dinner, at doctor’s
offices, on line at the bank, etc., etc., etc. Ellison quickly gave up explaining
this. Instead, whenever anyone asked, he would reply, “I order them from an
idea factory in Peoria. I pay them a hundred bucks a year and every 3-4 months,
they send me a sixpack.” It never ceased to amuse and amaze him that people
would actually ask him for the address.
- On a sub-note, a few years after hearing him say this
during a speaking engagement, I saw him at a subsequent appearance, signing
autographs. Two fans approached and presented a delighted Ellison with a sixpack
of soda that had been expertly modified so they were plain black cans with the
word ‘Idea’ written in purple on the side.
- Sometimes, there can be a concrete reason for WB. This
may be the result of my own biochemistry, but a year or so ago I was using a
particular type of antidepressant. At first it did allay my depression, but
after taking it for a few months, I found that it somehow dampened my creative
spark. I could not write. It was like my characters and ideas were locked in a
room and I couldn’t get to them. This caused me to become so despondent, any
positive effects of the drug were nullified. A week or so after I came off it,
I was again able to write.
- I strongly advise any writer to learn to write in
longhand (yes, with old-fashioned pen and paper). Not only can it be a very
relaxing exercise in mindfulness, but at times, you may have a few minutes to
write in a place where you can’t use a laptop.
- Just be careful not to fall into the ‘Idea Trap’. The human
mind doesn’t particularly like writing, in certain respects. It can be very
tiresome work. To avoid what it interprets as the tedium of working on a given
project, you may find you start coming up with the best story ideas EVER the
moment you sit down to work on your primary project. Don’t allow yourself to get
drawn off into developing all those shiny new ideas or you’ll end up with
seventeen Chapter 1’s. Keep an ‘ideas’ document handy so you can jot them down.
If they’ve got legs, they’ll keep until you can get to them.
- My favorite book on creativity is ‘Big Magic’ by
Elizabeth Gilbert. It deals with all aspects of creativity, how we all use it
in some form in our lives, even those of us who don’t see themselves as inherently
creative. It’s accessible, generous, and inspiring. I devoutly recommend it.
~~~
