The Myth That is Writer’s Block

I hate to sound like a dick — and I’m really not — but writer’s block is an excuse for many other things. Writers are writers and they write.

Or they are a doctor, a garbage man, a housewife, a secretary who writes stories. There’s a varying gap between a writer and one who writes, depending on their level of dedication, experience and, most important of all, leisure time. I call it leisure time, but that just means ‘time to do what you love doing’. For a writer, writing is a job; something they do on a regular basis, whether they want to or not, or the electric bill doesn’t get paid. It’s as simple as that.

I don’t consider myself a writer. Sure, I’ve been paid for short fiction and enjoyed exposure through blogs and bloggers who’ve showcased my writing, but until I’ve made enough in one lump to pay a bill, I’m a wannabe — but a wannabe who eventually will be able to pay a bill doing what I love to do.

Keep your shirt on; I’m getting to the writer’s block thingy. Which really is just a name for a triple threat I like to call ‘being a pussy’. “Writer’s block” goes a little something like this:

a) you’re not feeling inspired; you lack the ambition to finish what you’ve started and will try selling yourself any dumb ass excuse you can to justify just giving up. b) either subconsciously or consciously, you know you need feedback, to discuss the particular section you’re working on, but can’t seem to find anyone around you to either commiserates or care about your ‘hobby’ . c) You’re scared; scared of failing, of not being as good as you think, of what your dear saint of a mother will think — or so fucking afraid that you might actually finish it and not know what the hell to do next. I feel your pain, I really do, but it’s not something tangible or solid; a wall that stops you like a runner nearing the finish line.

For the fearful child in you:

You are the prophet of every single nuance of your soul. Everything you’ve ever done or dreamed of doing is right there in your head, waiting to be translated into the realization of one or more of those dreams. Let it out. Pop the top off those bottled up fancies and dump them all over the page. Stop worrying about how others may or may not understand, like or even care about what you have to say.

For the uninspired part of you:

This may sound silly, but I find inspiration in everything I see, feel, that hurts me, helps me, or leaves me indifferent. At times, 95% of the writing I do doesn’t take place anywhere near my computer. I’ll make what I call a ‘head movie’ of what I’d like to have happen for, like, ten chapters, then I let it stew for a while, play it back, play it back again and again, and then I hit the computer. This process has sometimes taken more than a few days. I’m not saying you should shun the computer and not write down anything you feel just has to written down RIGHT NOW. This is only for when you are unsure of the story’s direction. Again with the silly: During times of indecision, I will lay in my hammock in the backyard, watching the sky, the squirrels, listen to the odd sound a tree branch makes as it draws like a bow across a violin against the backboard of my son’s basketball net. Or I’ll watch people from afar and give them a life and past that I create in my head. I initially didn’t think of this as any sort of exercise for the ‘writer’ in me. I just like to daydream. It could be that this is good exercise for the mind, or it could just be a good way to clear your mind of what’s really bothering you. Sometimes, issues within your writing can choke creativity, but if you dwell on it, a constipated mind is right around the corner.

Think no one cares (i.e., family and friends)? Well, they don’t — not really — but they sure as hell will when the advance comes for your first novel. Don’t hate them. They just can’t seem to equate you, the same person who can squirt milk out their nose on demand or pisses all over the toilet seat (even when it’s up), as an intellectual-type writer — which you really, really are. Don’t hate them for feeling this way. Also, don’t badger them to help you read a scene, a chapter (unless they want to), because their opinion is tainted by the aforementioned random body squirts. Instead, talk to (not AT) other writers. They can help, even if you don’t really have an issue you can label as an ‘issue’. In a sort of symbiotic way, writers are the best cure for each other. An idea you had but can’t seem to give legs to may have a simple solution that another will give to you gratis. Flip side of the coin: you help another writer with a problem they have and gain a little confidence from the effort which may snowball into a breakthrough in your own writing.

Okay, so are we clear? There is no such thing as writer’s block. Period.

p.s. If none of this shit works, go see a shrink; you have bigger problems than a case of stunted inspiration.