The Cure for Writer’s Block
The writing isn’t the problem.
It’s you.
Writers love to complain about writer’s block, and even look askance at anyone who claims not to have it. They must be a hack, surely, if writing comes so easily to them? If it’s not like squeezing blood from a stone, is it even writing?
I’ve had my own bouts with what I’ve called “writer’s block.” Times when I just didn’t want to write, or didn’t feel like I could; times when the writing seemed like slogging through heavy mud.
In Laraine Herring’s Writing Begins with the Breath, she says:
The term ‘writer’s block’ shifts the responsibility away from the author onto the writing. The writing is not blocking you. You are blocking the writing. This is a very empowering reframing. If you’re doing the blocking, then you can do the unblocking. No more waiting on the great god of writing to release the faucet of inspiration. (Emphasis mine.)
This struck me powerfully, because although I know many writers who lament their blocks, they do tend to discuss it like something happening outside them, out of their control. It becomes a great excuse for not writing, and even for eliciting sympathy. But it can also become a crutch to avoid the hard work of doing the writing.
And it is hard work. We are often tired, and our minds are scattered. Even when we manage to wrestle enough time to do some deep work, we’re not used to asking so much of ourselves, and so our minds balk. Good writing takes time, and energy, and focus: three things that are increasingly hard to come by in our rushed and distraction-filled world. There are times, no doubt, when we honestly can only squeeze out a half hour here and there, or some other subsistence-level keeping-the-spark-alive bit of time (and energy).
This speaks to the priority we allow our writing to have in our lives. I have a habit of watering my plants only when they are at death’s door, dropping and brown and gasping. Then I take a minute to give them what they need, and hope they hang on until the next time. If our writing is like a plant that we only take care of occasionally, that we only think of fleetingly, that we only nurture when we “have time” – is it any wonder we feel that loss of connection in the form of block? If the constant message we’re sending our brain is that writing is an afterthought, only to be squeezed in at odd moments, then that is exactly the energy we’ll have for it.
So, priority number one is to take responsibility for being blocked. This requires a profound mindshift for many of us, but it can actually be a relief: we can do something about it! The next step is to become aware of what exactly is being blocked. In my view, there are two types of blocks, emotional and craft.
With an emotional block, you have to ask yourself:
Where are you feeling vulnerable or at risk in the work right now?
What are you not willing to address yet?
What fears do you have, around this piece or around writing in general?
Why this story? Why now? What does it mean to you? Why are you burning to tell it, or what do you want to tell the world?
You also have to consider that maybe you’re not risking enough. The story simply doesn’t mean enough to you anymore. We often hear, “No surprise for the writer, no surprise for the reader,” but we have to consider also that “No stakes for the writer, no stakes for the reader.” It’s the writer’s paradox that as tough as the emotional work is, it’s the only thing that keeps both writer and reader engaged. Otherwise we’re on autopilot, just going through the motions. It’s not satisfying or interesting, for the writer or the reader.
With a craft block, the problem is a little simpler. It comes down to two things:
You don’t know enough about your story, or
You don’t know enough about how to tell it.
Whereas with an emotional block, you need to figure out your Why, with a craft block you need to figure out your What and How.
The What consists of knowing your characters better – who they are, what they want so deeply they are willing to risk anything to get it, how they have been wounded by life and how they endeavor to get what they need. (This doesn’t mean knowing what they eat for breakfast, or their favorite color. Who cares?). It might also mean knowing your story world better, knowing what’s at stake for the characters in this world, what outcome will be, and so on.
The How is simply: how do you make it happen on the page? If you have great ideas but the story is a mess, and you can’t figure out what comes next, you have a How problem. This might be how to structure your story properly, or how to write in scenes. It might be how to write dialogue that moves the story along while revealing (hidden) character. It might be how to create compelling characters the reader will recognize and root for. For this, you need to work specifically on your weak areas. Maybe you need a class with feedback from a knowledgeable instructor. Maybe you need to read some good craft books. You can also read books in your genre with an eye toward figuring out how other writers have done it successfully.
As I mentioned, we often don’t want to engage with blocks because dealing with them is hard work. It means looking closely at what’s really happening, and committing to doing what’s necessary to resolve it. We’ll say we don’t have time, or that we can just push through.
But the only way through is to engage. Sometimes we’ll realize we have more than one type of block going on at once, and so we’ll need to take multiple steps to get back on track.
If it’s an emotional block, all we can really do is understand what’s behind it, and vow to feel the fear and do it anyway. If you need therapy, go get that. But most of the time it is some garden-variety fear that shrinks as soon as you shine the light of consciousness on it. You might take a moment to thank it for trying to prevent you from being hurt, but tell it firmly that it will no longer prevent you from doing the work. Once you’ve done that, you need to commit to writing, no matter how uncomfortable it makes you feel. It will get easier once your mind truly understands that it can’t prevent you from writing.
If it’s a craft block, then commit to learning what you need to learn. Read the books, take the courses, get the feedback, but most of all, practice writing. That is the only way you will improve.
You knew it would come back to writing, right? There’s no magic formula to wave away blocks. The only way out is through. The good news is, you have the means to move through them – if you are committed to prioritizing your writing and taking the steps necessary to do so.
