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Writerīs blockI once heard a writer say that there were three things she were afraid of in the beginning of her career: relentless criticism, low sales, and writerīs block. But, she continued, you learn to handle criticism after the first couple of hundred refusal letters. And there are so many factors that decide what sells - including timing - that you can only do your best. The only thing sheīs still afraid of is writerīs block. I can certainly understand her. When it comes to writerīs block, I must be patient X. I have, and have had writerīs block as long as Iīve considered myself a writer. As all difficult patients Iīve done my own research - Iīve read books. Iīve read articles. Iīve asked other writers. Iīve experimented. Finally, it almost became a hobby to analyse the advice instead. "Ah, this is a version of the Write now!-method", or "Look, a new relaxation method". So once I amused myself by put together all the methods and advice that I had heard of. The list was rather long:
And still I havenīt found a method that has worked for me. Itīs then that you begin to wonder if itīs you. You know, "maybe Iīm not a writer". And you also know that when you hear the same thing from others, you say to them to stop feel sorry for themself. (But in a nicer way...) So you might as well take your advice. When I had one of those episodes, a while ago, it struck me. One of the rules for solving a seemingly insoluble pussle, is to divide it into its basic elements. So I did. And it occured to me that there arenīt just one type of writerīs block, but several writerīs blocks.
Do they seem familiar? Bet they are. But if there are several kinds of writerīs block, then it stands to reason that you canīt cure them all with the same method. After all, you wouldnīt cure a hang-nail the same way as an broken arm. So letīs go over them again.
On the other hand, you shouldnīt try to wait out all the stuff that you "have to do first". They will never stop coming. The solution lies in trying to figure out why you procrastinate and then remove the reason. Of course, that sounds easier than it actually is. The reason for that is that the block serves a purpose. And you can think it through all you want, because your logic centre isnīt switched on. (If it was, it would be easier to see the excuses when you make them, instead of at the end of the day.) Your thinking is clouded by fear, bad conscience, anger towards yourself and wanting to escape. But feelings are sensitive. As soon as you switch on your analytical part of the brain again, you will find that those feelings are pretty shallow, and that they evaporate quickly. So pick up a paper and a pen, before you start your escape activity, and write down your thoughts. Write down that youīre fleeing from writing. You will feel silly, but at least you have been honest. This type of writing will feel less of a threat than a story would. And soon you will find yourself writing for real.
Missing buses, household work, friends who calls me unexpectedly, and relaxation are only a few things I never put down in my plans, and then the plan will fail. And there are several more problems: I have enormous problems estimating how much time things that I know will happen will take. So how do you make a plan if you donīt know how much time to put aside for showering? And if youīre stressed from the beginning, do you really think that you will schedule a planning session? I mean, when will you find the time? So how do you get time to write? You donīt. You donīt "get" time. You "take" time. You have to make it a priority. Over answering the telephone, over window shopping, over watching TV. Itīs a choice. Itīs not an easy choice, but it is a choice you have to do, if you ever hope to have time to write. But whatīs even stranger than that, the priority must come from inside. If you feel that you "should" make writing a priority, you wonīt. Itīs only when you will make writing a priority over important activities, like shopping, cleaning, having sex, doing other hobbies, etc, that your writing will flourish. Thatīs why the question is, what are you prepared to sacrifice?
Inspiration (literally "being filled with the holy ghost") is not a good motivation to work. Inspiration comes too infrequently to be reliable. And even if it came regularly as clockwork, it wouldnīt do any good. Because the premise behind inspiration is that writing is a passion, instead of a job, and that your stories will be perfect from the start. Such a thought is naturally enticing. Just think how much paper you could save, by not having to rewrite! But its power lies in a prejudice of what writers do. That romantic picture often comes from biographies of 19th century poets, and is a poor match to how writers live and work nowadays. Thatīs why it isnīt a bad idea to check out how itīs like to be a writer today. And no matter how repulsive the thought of living with commercial writers and big companies that will corrupt your ideas is, thatīs a part of writing today, just as suicide was in the 19th century. And your prejudice will seem pale in comparison to the way writers work today - the friendships, the versatile intellects, the insights, the love of words - and the dissatisfaction with the way the business is, and the thoughts of how it should be... Together with that kind of people, it will not only be easier to be creative, it will also be a pleasure to go to work. So the big question now is how you will find this kind of friends. A few suggestions: through the internet, message boards, competitions, magazines, fanzines, etc. The important thing to remember is that you donīt live in a vacuum.
Well, now that youīve read this, you know. If you suddenly lose hope for a story, it is probably because youīve run into a problem. You can comfort yourself with the thought that it is seldom fatal. Neither for the story nor for you... But then, when you understand that you have a problem, what do you do? I canīt advice you on every possible situation. But there are certain methods that you should know about:
But it can be equally important to recognise that all writers run into problems now and then. Some solve it by research, others by taking some time off, still others by hiding the problem. Choose whatever method works for you, but please note: the only method that is guaranteed not to work is the one that involves running away from the problem, because the problem is not in the story. Itīs in you.
But then you find that it still sucks energy from you, because you canīt stop thinking about it. Soon that unfinished story will reach almost a mythical status. By then itīs impossible to do it justice. Now you have a choice: either get on with reworking your story and risking letting yourself down, or let it go for real. Either active or passive. There is no middle ground. Which should you choose? I canīt tell you, but I can tell you that there is a bigger question here: How do stay "normally whelmed"? How do you continue working without getting overwhelmed by great ideas that force you to change everything in the story, or by new theories that make you want to improve the entire story? By balancing your expectations with ordinary work. There are no long term short cuts. Your idea will not change everything, and that new theory, while interesting, will not force you to rewrite the entire story. And if it is so, then I bet that youīre really aching to write another story. All I can advice you in that case is to write that story first, and then go back to this one. You have to finish this story too, or else it will suck your energy.
But even if you succeed in understanding that youīre tired, it doesnīt necessarily mean that you will rest. Because somewhere inside you feel guilty about not writing when you finally have a moment to spare, or about it being so long ago. So much that this may be a big thing for some: You CAN have days off as a writer! You need to take a break sometime: to recharge your batteries, to get new insights, to feel like a human being (for a while anyway...), or because you have worked hard. Even if you write for a hobby, itīs necessary to be off the clock sometimes. I can understand if you recoil a bit. Not at the notion that you should be off the clock sometimes, but at the notion that YOU should stop writing for a while. You may fear that once you stopped, you wouldnīt find your way back, and what would you do then? Or you may wonder why should have to take a break from something this fun. Or you may think that you havenīt earned your spare time yet, as you havenīt put in enough hours. All these questions are important, but when youīre run down, theyīre not very relevant. If youīre tired and still push yourself, thereīs a risk for a burnout. You know youīre there when you start dreaming about writing, about a deadline, or about a problem, or if you start having trouble getting off to sleep. In that case youīll have to do something. But how do you relax, if that is your problem? Think about it, what calms you down? Relaxation is an individual thing. For some people itīs complete idleness, for others total exertion. The point is, you have to give yourself permission to take a break and then take it. Donīt fall for it, when your brain first want to go back to work. This is only the habit of working. Immerse yourself in freetime, until you can go back with a completely new set of impressions. It should feel like youīre not going back into the same old rut again.
Itīs not easy to deal with that kind of writerīs block, since changes are part of life. And sometimes it can be better not to write. But if we work from the premise that you want to continue to write, as soon as the situation is resolved, how do you do that? You should consider taking a break. A break can be better than continue writing. Why? Because otherwise you run the risk of connecting writing with the troublesome situation, and thatīs no good. On the other hand, writing could help you deal with the situation. If you decide to continue writing, you should keep your personal writings apart from your stories. (If not for your sake, then for your readers. They will not appreciate all your characters getting into the same situation that you are.) Keep a notebook or a document in your computer, for either. Then try to write as professionally as possible, without getting cold.
The qustion is not how you learn to live with low self-esteem, but what your pay-off is for keeping it. Perhaps it serves as a protection against negative criticism. It may be a way to always get to be the underdog. Or it could be an alibi for not writing. But if it blocks you from tapping into your full potential as a writer, then you have a choice: either you choose the protection, or you choose writing. (If you donīt choose now, your habits will choose for you, and it will go back to default mode: protection.) It doesnīt mean that you have to change your life completely now. Instead you can change your life step by step, for example by writing a little, even if it feels bothersome, or by showing your story to someone and trying to listen to the positive comments too. Does it sound too simple? That confidence should be a choice? That may be so, but ultimately confidence comes from what choices you make in life. Sure, life can throw you curveballs now and then, but you also have the possibility to make your own decision - should an event in the past have the power to affect your now and your future? From that point of view it may sound simple, but I assure you that itīs not. If you have low self-esteem you will probably feel that this advice are patronising or malevolent. But if you lower your guard... ... you will be afraid at first, when you write. In fact, that is the point. Itīs good to be scared. But it doesnīt mean you must let fear rule your life.
I believe that the solution lies in that thereīs nothing that is uninteresting in itself, just uninteresting ways of tell others what you know of a particular topic. In other words, find the interesting angle on a mundane topic by looking for something else you are interested in. If you, for example, are asked to write about an obscure historical event, you can relate it to some modern equivalent that you know better. Once you find that part of the topic, itīs easier to ignore the boring task. The motivation does not come with the topic, you have to find it yourself. (That is also why you shouldnīt rely on inspiration - see above.) On the contrary, it can in fact be better not to get the motivation for free, since you first will do some ground work that you can then use to persuade others that your work is as interesting as you think. But if you canīt find a better angle, than the one that came with the assignment, then you should consider saying no, for everybodyīs sake. It seems that you arenīt interested, and there should be others that are better suited. And there are always other things to do. (But watch out: this may be a way to avoiding solving a problem in the story - see above.)
After procrastination, the most common writerīs block comes from the mistaken notion that writing is a coherent activity, when in fact it consists of several phases. The most obvious phases are planning (or outlining), writing and rewriting, but a more accurate chart reads like this:
(Of course, your writing may not look exactly like this. And the process is not entirely one-way. But itīs close enough for this purposes.) And the mistake lies in trying to do two activities at once. The brain is an amazing organ, but it cannot handle an infinite number of tasks at once. Trying to plot as you write the story, for example, will only lead to a meandering plot and a much slower writing. Avoid this at all cost. By doing one thing at a time, you will be focused and creative. The other piece of good news is that you can use this chart to specify what you need to do now. Do your own chart, and you will have an guide for when you get stuck on your next project. You can no longer say that you donīt know what your next move should be.
I donīt know. To tell the truth, I have never heard of any writer that never have had writerīs block. But I have seen improvement in my condition since I catalogued the different kinds of writerīs block, and tried to cure each according to its nature. And itīs a work that continues even now. The bottom line is that itīs not important if you have writerīs block or not, but what you do about it. There are however some magnificent examples of what is on the other side of writerīs block, writers who have been extraordinarily prolific:
That much can be written! And these kinds of numbers always gets me in a good mood. I mean, whatīs the difference between them and me, really? But even if you "only" write a few pages every day, thatīs not worth any less, as long as you like what you do. Then itīs just a matter of training your long-distance writing. But now that you have read all this, itīs time for you to get going - and this time I hope you deal with the cause behind your writerīs block, before you start your new habit. If you should get blocked again, consider the fact that it normally takes up to 18 MONTHS until youīve completely broken a bad habit. So plan for the long run, and in the meantime, have fun. By Lennart Guldbrandsson |
Chapters The different blocks Procrastination Lack of time Lack of inspiration Story problem Overwhelming Tiredness External factors Low self-esteem Lack of motivation Mistaken phase
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