I don’t exactly believe in writer’s block. I believe writing is technically challenging and, at times, emotionally draining. In other words, I believe writing can be difficult. That’s why it’s called writing.
What I don’t believe is that a writer can be struck down by a sudden inability to produce work. He may be struck down by a real illness, such as fibromyalgia or depression, that makes writing much more difficult for him. She may be struck by a death in the family, which makes it harder for her to keep writing.
In other words, I think writer’s block is a symptom of a deeper problem. Sometimes that problem is beyond your control, like illness or grief. But it’s often a more mundane issue. Here are three of the most common ones I experience, and how I’ve learned to combat them.
You need a break, physically or mentally.
You may be overworked, or you may have spent too much time with this particular work-in-progress. Learn to recognize when you need a break, and let yourself take one.
Do something else to take your mind off the project. Go for a walk, watch a movie, play a game with your family. Work on another creative project, like a painting or a scrapbook. If you’re simply exhausted, make time to get some extra rest.
If you’re working on a deadline (even a self-imposed one), you may worry that taking a break will halt your forward progress. But in my experience, taking breaks when you need them makes you more productive in the long run. Because after your break, you’ll return to the project refreshed and reenergized.
You don’t have enough ideas.
I used to struggle with this. A lot. For years I never finished any stories because I never knew what to write. When I got a spark of an idea and sat down to write it, I hit a wall after the first few paragraphs. For a long time, it seemed my imagination just wasn’t fertile enough for a writing career.
Then I started forcing the stories out—even when they were difficult, even when they were crappy. I knew that, to improve as a writer, I needed more practice. And the more I practiced, the more easily the ideas flowed.
Now I have a much better problem: too many stories, and not enough time to write them all. I can see something on my drive to work, or overhear something in the grocery store, and before I know it, it’s blossomed into a story.
If you don’t have enough ideas, keep writing. Eventually, you’ll never run out.
You’re in a tough scene.
Some parts of a story are more difficult than others—that’s just the nature of the beast. When you hit a rough patch in your work-in-progress, you have two options: move on to an easier scene, or just write the damn thing. I use both.
I start a novel or a short story by writing the scenes that come to me first, the scenes that are already near-complete in my head. They help me gain momentum on the project and get to know the characters. Then I brainstorm the rest of the scenes I need, make a list, and tackle them methodically, one by one, no matter how difficult they are.
Often, the first draft of a difficult scene is absolute crap. It’s melodramatic, it’s confusing, it’s missing critical information—and that’s okay. Once I have the skeleton of the scene down, the worst part is over.
Accept that writing will be challenging sometimes, and do it anyway. The first draft may feel like you’re squeezing your own blood onto the page, one word at a time. But I promise, revisions will be much less painful.