Please help me perform an experiment. Re-read the title of this post, and ask yourself: What if somebody said those five words – “I don’t believe in diabetes” – to you? What if they followed it up with something like this? “People should just eat less sugar.”
I suspect you might consider that remark insensitive, or stupid, or uninformed, or simply wrong. I also suspect that none of you would ever actually say something like that – particularly to a person diagnosed as being diabetic. After all, it would definitely be insensitive, it would almost certainly be stupid, and it’s clearly ill-informed and wrong, as there is ample medical proof that A) diabetes exists, and B) sugar consumption does not directly cause diabetes.
Let’s try a variation. Consider this statement:
“I don’t believe in depression. People should just cheer up.”
Again, this is something I doubt most people who read posts like this would say, and for the same reasons. At the very least it would be insensitive, and the oversimplified solution it offers is both callous and unhelpful. However, the grim reality is that there ARE some people who would say this – or at least think it. Ask anybody who suffers from depression, and I bet they’ll corroborate this.
Let’s re-cast this sentence one more time, transforming it into something that a fair number of you probably would say:
“I don’t believe in writer’s block.”
I know – this is false equivalence, comparing writer’s block to actual illnesses like diabetes or depression. I’ll address that in a moment. But first let’s explore this premise a bit more. Whether you believe in writer’s block or not, I think you’d have to admit it’s a pretty common punching bag – or punchline – for many writers. Here’s a quick sampling.
Let’s start with Jodi Picoult, who proclaims, “I don’t believe in writer’s block. Most of writer’s block is having too much time on your hands.”
Terry Pratchett apparently has Jodi’s back on this. He’s been quoted as saying, “There’s no such thing as writer’s block. That was invented by people in California who couldn’t write.”
Writing teacher and author Natalie Goldberg says, “I don’t believe in writer’s block. I don’t even think it exists.”
Author Bob Welch calls it “an excuse,” and elaborates that “I don’t believe in writer’s block any more than I believe in ‘plumber’s block’ should the guy fixing my pipes suddenly find the going difficult.”
Continuing with that theme, author Roger Simon, currently the chief political columnist of Politico, drives the stake a little deeper: “Why should I get writer’s block? My father never got truck driver’s block.”
These are all clever, pithy remarks – brimming with confidence and making it pretty clear that writer’s block is just not something that happens to REAL writers.
Um, except for when it does. To writers including Leo Tolstoy, Virginia Woolf, J.K. Rowling, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Truman Capote, Ernest Hemingway, Joseph Conrad, John Fowles, Henry Roth, Ralph Ellison, and Keith Cronin, among others. (I know, I know – to quote Big Bird from Sesame Street, “One of these things is not like the others.” But I digress…)
All of these writers have been known to battle writer’s block at some point in their careers. And surely at least some of them qualify as real writers, wouldn’t you agree?
So okay, maybe you’ll grant that writer’s block does kinda sorta exist. Maybe. Kinda. Sorta. And only for other people, of course – not you.
But wait a second, you say – diabetes is an illness. So is depression. Writer’s block – real or not – is not an actual illness. Nor is it anywhere NEAR as serious as either of those illnesses.
I’ll grant you: that’s a true and reasonable retort. I’ve already copped to the fact that I opened this post using false equivalence, to heighten the impact of the comparison I was making. So let’s try an example that for some people is less clear-cut.
“I don’t believe addiction is a disease. Some people just make bad choices, and calling it a disease just legitimizes the concept of addiction and excuses their behavior, when it all comes down to a person being weak – or even immoral.”
I personally know people who believe this. Hell, it’s a concept I struggle with at times. And it’s particularly easy to believe when the person in question DOES make lots of bad choices. Even easier if they’re being a dick about it.
But even then, even if you believed that, I doubt you would say that to an addict’s face, outside of a heated confrontation or intervention. If you were just having a pleasant conversation with somebody and they mentioned how hard they were finding it to quit smoking, I doubt you’d launch into a lecture on how weak they are – not if you wanted that conversation to continue to be pleasant.
Yet people think nothing of responding to a writer who mentions they are struggling with writer’s block with a dismissive, “Oh, I don’t believe in writer’s block.”
Really? Gosh, thanks. Very helpful.
Selective empathy
As a writer, I find this block-shaming even more perplexing given the knee-jerk empathy we often show to other writers, in the name of being “supportive.” In countless interactions I’ve witnessed, both face-to-face and online, the first response to many writers’ complaints is usually an expression of sympathy and commiseration, often accompanied by an attack on the assumed “real” source of the problem – which interestingly enough never happens to be the writers themselves. Don’t believe me? Do any of these scenarios sound familiar?
- When writers get a rejection, the agent or editor is clearly an idiot. Hell, the whole publishing model is a flawed (and probably corrupt) system of arbitrary gatekeeping.
- When writers get a bad review, the reviewer is obviously an illiterate jerk with some kind of agenda. And they probably smell bad and wear ugly shoes.
- But when writers get blocked? They’re just lazy, and making excuses by complaining about a problem that many people claim doesn’t even exist. And others are happy to pile on, blithely proclaiming their disbelief in the problem itself, or proudly sharing that they themselves never experience such a paltry problem.
So what’s your point, Mr. Sensitive?
I’m glad you asked, Mr. Subhead. My point is this:
Words matter. As writers, we should know that better than most.
I submit that even if you don’t have this problem – even if you don’t believe in the existence of this problem – maybe you should think twice about how to respond to somebody else who does claim to have this problem.
Think about it. Are there any other times when you think an appropriate response to a person sharing a problem with you is to tell them you don’t even believe the problem exists? (And if so, do you maybe find yourself not getting invited to many parties? Just askin’.)
I hasten to add that writers are not alone in this kind of response. Particularly in these politically polarized times, one of the ugliest sentiments I’ve seen repeatedly expressed could be boiled down to this:
“If *I* don’t have the problem, it’s not a problem.”
I frequently see this philosophy demonstrated in discussions about racism, police treatment of minorities, sexual harassment, sexuality and gender issues, birth control, immigration, religious discrimination, and more.
To me, it’s an attitude of both ignorance and entitlement. And it doesn’t do a damn thing to help.
We can do better
So the long-winded point that I want to make to the kind of people who read WU posts is this: We’re better than that.
I’ve been an artist my whole life, my sensitivity to the power of artistic expression emerging at a young age. I’ve felt tuned into things that seemed to elude many people around me, and at times that made life more lonely and – if you believe in that sort of thing – depressing. For me, the Internet changed all this in a big way, by offering me a chance to find kindred souls literally around the world: other people who were as passionate about – hell, maybe even addicted to – their artistic pursuits. The WU community is a shining example of that shared virtual kinship and its power to educate, unite and elevate each other – as writers and as fellow human beings.
So I’m calling on that kinship to acknowledge an opportunity to be better about something. Something that may not seem like a big deal to you. But something that I guarantee IS a big deal to somebody else. With that in mind…
Let’s lighten up on the writer’s-block-shaming, shall we?
It doesn’t help anybody, and it can hurt them – even when that is absolutely not your intent. A simple step would be to pause before responding to somebody who brings up writer’s block, and ask yourself two questions:
- Would I say something similar to somebody suffering from a problem that I take far more seriously?
- Will this reply actually help them?
Those two questions will help, believe me.
How about you?
Did this post make you think? Or am I just being a whiny snowflake? I invite your input, even if I’m not gonna like it. If I’ve shown nothing else in my WU posts over the years, I hope I’ve demonstrated my willingness to be called wrong. I’m keenly aware that I haven’t seen this viewpoint expressed often, so I write this knowing there’s a very good chance that I am NOT preaching to the choir here.
So please chime in with your candid thoughts about writer’s block, or my call for increased sensitivity – really, anything but diabetes. ‘Cause I just don’t believe in that stuff.
And as always, thanks for reading!
Image licensed from 123RF
Wish you could buy this author a cup of joe?
Now, thanks to tinyCoffee and PayPal, you can!
About Keith Cronin
Author of the novels ME AGAIN, published by Five Star/Gale; and TONY PARTLY CLOUDY (published under his pen name Nick Rollins), Keith Cronin is a corporate speechwriter and professional rock drummer who has performed and recorded with artists including Bruce Springsteen, Clarence Clemons, and Pat Travers. Keith's fiction has appeared in Carve Magazine, Amarillo Bay, The Scruffy Dog Review, Zinos, and a University of Phoenix management course. A native of South Florida, Keith spends his free time serenading local ducks and squirrels with his ukulele.
First, I thought you called me “Mr. Subhead” and it made me laugh when I realized you were talking (literally) to the Subhead.
Secondly, no you’re not being a snowflake, at least not in my mind. I think you have identified a breakdown in our society in general – the lack of compassion for and quick rush to judgement on others. As you pointed out, the thought (on social media, at least) is that if I haven’t experienced something, it’s not real and isn’t difficult and you’re the reason you’re having problems. Get yourself together and quit whining.
I don’t know if I had writer’s block, but I definitely had a period of time where I wasn’t writing and couldn’t even really come up with a decent idea for a story. I’ll agree that the perceptions that I was having trouble because I’m not a real writer only served to make the block/depression/anxiety/whatever worse. So I appreciate your post today and the call for a return to compassion.
Thanks, Lara – both for getting my propensity to speak to inanimate objects, and for supplying the key word that was missing from my post, yet is EXACTLY what my post is about:
Compassion.
You get me. I dig that about you. We should hang out. As long as you’re not diabetic.
Thanks again!
Keith, thanks for writing this. Because I have a number of WIPS, when I am blocked on one I can turn to another, allowing my subconscious to work out whatever’s blocking me. I don’t understand why I can be equally enthusiastic and filled with fear to the point of choosing the easier writing projects but then there’s a lot I don’t understand about the creative life. Always learning though. I try to pay attention to what works for me and go from there. Books like Writing into the Dark, From Where You Dream have shed some light into my own psyche.
I think people who say there’s no such thing as writer’s block perhaps do not understand the nature of creativity or perhaps they really don’t suffer from it and good for them. I’m jealous!
Vijaya, thanks for your empathy, and for those book suggestions. I’ll check them out.
And I totally need to try your method of rotating from one stalled project to another one that might be more welcoming. Brilliant!
You’re not a whiny snowflake.
100% agree, denying the problem exists is bad problem-solving and worse diplomacy. We certainly should do better.
Part of the challenge may be that “writer’s block” is used as a catch-all for so many different problems, from being physically drained by a busy life to the nagging feeling that the story’s missing something. It’s a shorthand that’s sometimes convenient, but it can also let a writer put off figuring out *what* is actually blocking them. The first step in getting past a block may be getting past that single word.
(Assuming it’s the writer who uses it. Often it’s the critic who hears a half-formed regret and answers “You mean you have writer’s block, so you don’t have a real problem.”)
Attacking the writer for the word itself (or with it) isn’t helpful. And the usual stock answer to writer’s block is “shut up and write”–trying to fix an often badly-diagnosed problem with a one-size-fits-all answer. Not helpful at all.
And it wouldn’t be helpful even if it were tactful enough for people to listen to, or for a supportive community to tolerate. Which it isn’t.
We need to do better.
Ken, you raise an EXCELLENT point:
“Part of the challenge may be that ‘writer’s block’ is used as a catch-all for so many different problems”
Amen to that. No wonder there’s not one simple solution for it!
Thanks for understanding, and for weighing in.
I agree. The term writer’s block can be used for a variety of situations, from not knowing where to go next in a story, to not being able to write at all for months at a time. Those situations can arise from a variety of physical, mental, emotional, and craft/skill issues. We also react to those problems differently. Some people might get stuck in a story and spend a couple of weeks puttering in the garden while they think about it, and simply call that part of their process. Other people might feel anxious that they’ll never figure it out, or never write again, and call that writer’s block. With so many options, it’s hard to figure out solutions, but certainly the answer is to talk more about the details rather than dismissing the problem.
I think I’m guilty of this. And of talking to the headings in my own blog posts, but that’s another story. I shall now always add “for me” to the writer’s block statement. I also believe that as wordsmiths at every level, we choose the verbiage that works for us. I’m always using my own language to describe my experiences — when others describe it differently — so my procrastination and detour might be another’s writer’s block just like someone’s else’s character arc is a journey to me — or how I mentally delete the concept of tension and refer to it as worry. Tomato/tomato etc. THANKS KEITH
Fear not, Amy – in reading your excellent work over the years, I can’t ever remember being alienated or offended by it. :)
And it’s worth mentioning that several of the authors I cited in this post have also gone on to offer their remedies for stopping or preventing blockage – so I suppose I can’t accuse them of being entirely unhelpful. But that still doesn’t take away the sting of their denial of what is a very real problem for some other writers.
It just always struck me as odd that in a field where our default response to other writers encountering challenges is usually to commiserate and sympathize – or even encourage people to vent and pout – there exists this one area where the writing community seems to not only accept but full-on embrace the application of some VERY tough love. And that “love” is expressed with ZERO sugar-coating, to the extent of denying that a problem even exists. Strange…
I’ve felt this way for years, but decided to finally speak up. Thanks for listening!
Interesting post. Thanks, Keith. Sometimes empathy goes a long way, doesn’t it? Write on.
Amen to that. Thanks, Rose!
This is an awesome post, Keith.
No matter how I feel about writer’s block, or diabetes, for that matter, you have provided me with spot-on points to consider, and a well-written point of view. Thank you.
I will aim to be kind on all fronts.
Hugs,
Dee
That’s a beautiful goal to keep in mind, Dee.
Thanks for your comment – and your hugs.
Thanks for the call to sensitivity, Keith. I’m a writer who has Type 2 Diabetes and–too often–writer’s block. With my diabetes, I sometimes act as if I don’t have it. Diabetes denial! Yet, that denial doesn’t make it disappear. In fact, it makes it more dangerous, harder to manage. I wonder if the writers who say they don’t believe in writer’s block are also in denial. Has there never been a time when they were stumped or stymied? Maybe. Maybe not. I can only speak for myself and all of the writers I hang out with. Writer’s block is real.
Eugene, thanks first of all for not being offended by my rhetorically flawed premise. I fully expect a spanking from one of our diabetic readers before the day is done, and am relieved by the tone of your post.
You raise an interesting point I hadn’t considered:
“I wonder if the writers who say they don’t believe in writer’s block are also in denial.
You got me thinking with that one. Perhaps this sometimes *is* a “methinks they doth protest too much” situation, to paraphrase the BardMeister.
My turn to corroborate: In adolescence I had an eating disorder and chronic depression. When I confessed to people that I was suicidal, their responses were:
1) “No, you’re not. Stop being a drama queen.”
2) “But you’re so smart and beautiful!”
3) “Your problem is, you don’t do anything but study. You need to chill out and spend more time outside in the sun.”
Last week an acquaintance learned that her son’s classmate had committed suicide. She opined, “It makes no sense that these kids today have mental health issues, when they don’t have real problems. In my parents’ time they had the Great Depression. They had wars. Everyone was fighting hard to survive; nobody killed themselves. It just doesn’t make sense.”
To someone who hasn’t experienced mental illness, it makes no sense that a person who “has it all” would want to end it all. If you’re affluent and smart and beautiful, you should be happy and grateful for your privileges. You must be depressed because you’re doing something wrong.
Similarly, writers are living the dream life. They’re not doing real work like everyone else. How dare they whine about some invisible problem that doesn’t make any sense?
Some don’t intend to be dismissive. They believe they’re cheering you on by saying, “That’s not a real thing. Man up.” They see a problem, and they think they know the solution to the problem, so they “help.”
All this is to say, if you have writer’s block…you need to get your butt back in that chair and spend more time in the sun.
Wow, T.K. – you brought up the ultimate example of the consequences of a problem that a lack of empathy can blind us to.
Thanks for the sobering reminder – and for the “get into the sun” advice. As a native Floridian, I am definitely at least partially solar-powered, and I feel the restorative effects of nature’s beauty and power almost immediately every time I step outside. Good stuff.
Thanks, Keith. I truly think self-esteem has a lot to do with writer’s block. Let’s not knock someone down another peg.
Thanks, Priscille.
Believe it or not, I had not made the self-esteem connection before, but now that you point it out, I completely agree. D’oh!
Yes, I too dislike pontificating people–no matter what subject they choose to hold forth on. As for writer’s block, I’ve had it, and it’s no fun. For me it arrives in the form of fatigue and radical doubt (about my current scene, my manuscript, my purpose as a writer…) I do not and cannot create at those times, though I have other strategies that help, such as journaling to help me figure out what wrong turn I’ve taken in the story. Thankfully the writer’s block always passes like a flu bug.
Thanks, S.K. – I’m glad you keep bouncing back from your blockages!
Building on your flu simile, although I’m not a flu-shot guy, if they ever come up with a vaccination for writer’s block, I’ll be first in line!
Hi Keith,
I agree with you 100% on this and sometimes (most of the time) it comes off as elitist. Elitism is one thing we don’t need in the writing community because it should be that. A community.
I hate people saying they don’t believe in X because it doesn’t affect them and I hate it even more recently as someone going through Fibromyalgia diagnoses and what I hear a lot from doctors is “I don’t believe in Fibromyalgia so I am not going to say that’s what it is”.
Your post is completely appreciated and you are not whining or sensitive. I get writer’s block periodically. It’s not a writing problem typically. The problem isnt a block in my story or this or that, it is within myself and prevents me from writing. Mental stress and fatigue are the number one cause for me. Overthinking, anxiety, depression, more overthinking, these are all things that lead me to writer’s block.
So to say you don’t believe in writer’s block is to say you don’t believe that mental stress, anxiety, mental fatigue, depression, physical illness, etc can prevent someone from being capable of writing. That puts certain writers on a privilege pedestal of elitism and an unreal expectation to assume all people function the same.
My father is a functional alcoholic. Has been since before I was even a thought in his mind and still is. He brother, on the other hand, couldn’t function and drink. He lost jobs, cars, his house, and his life in the end. My father is in his mid-sixties and still a functional alcoholic. They had the same parents but responded differently to their external facts which they internalized differently as well.
Writers, people who at times write deeply flawed characters, tend to forget that writers are people too. They are flawed characters just like those characters and respond to external stimuli differently than the writer next to them. So you are correct. Where is the compassion? When do we remember that writers are flawed too? They have a host of problems that other writers are privy to and have a world of internal responses that may not make sense to the next writer.
I used to get down on myself when writer’s block hit because of stuff like that. Now I know how to take care of myself to get out of it but it still happens. So I will take my imaginary problem and add it to the imaginary characters I create that feel so real at times but clearly aren’t.
Holly, thanks for your thoughtful reply.
And kudos for your resilience – sounds like you have a great perspective on handling these challenges.
Well said Holly!
Keith, Keith, sweetheart, you’re thinking about this all wrong! As you say, words matter. The problem isn’t whether or not that condition of brain furze that stifles writerly activity exists—oh, verily, it does. The problem is that “block” is an unfriendly word. It’s hard-cornered, resistant, blockheaded.
We need something softer, more approachable to be able to discuss it. Perhaps “writer’s cube.” Cube is friendly. Or writer’s clog; clogs are temporary. Or writer’s cramp, something painful but that perhaps can be massaged away. Or, perhaps more alliterative, writer’s wedge.
This “block” term just blocks us from entering the subject—there are no doors, just corners. But I appreciate you having the courage to show us there’s a sunrise on the other side of the block.
And now back to the plane of reality: as a guy who has spent more than a few dim afternoons with the black dog, having someone say to me “You should just cheer up” really doesn’t cut it. Nice try though.
Tom – you’ve inspired me. Instead of “writer’s block,” I now proclaim any period of stalled literary output to be…
a writer’s wedgie.
Thanks!
On a more serious note: yeah, “cheer up” and “snap out of it” are not quite the miraculous cure-alls that those who offer such advice believe them to be. Who knew?
I am a writer and a mental health professional. Not only am I a believer in writer’s block, I am also a believer in trucker’s block and plumber’s block. Using mental health terminology, the words I would use to describe these afflictions are “inability to function in the area causing internal conflict.” The difference between writing and truck driving is between using high vs. low cognitive skills. Failure to function in areas demanding high cognitive skills (especially creative skills) is always more noticeable and harder to cover up or muscle through..
Wow – what a fascinating, insightful and truly helpful reply!
Thank you, Carolyn!
Keith,
I have so many gut reactions to this post I have to take a deep breath to calm down.
Okay.
I’m now calm enough to thumb text and hit mostly the right keys.
But before I start let me just get this off my chest:
One of the most aggravating quotes for me is that Terry Pratchett bit about *people from California*… WHY does everybody pick on us Californians? WHY, WHY? They do it even when we don’t have writer’s block.
And… now back to writer’s blockages…
When I was growing up, the opinion of the medical community was that my excruciating menstrual cramps that I only realized were on par with labor pains when I had a child–were just the imagination of hysterical women. Well, a lot has changed since the Stone Age. The medical community now acknowledges cramps are a physical, painful reality for many women. Duh….Women have been telling them that all along.
I call B.S…
Just because one doesn’t suffer Writer’s Block, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist for others. And DON’T– I’m looking at you Dr. Phil types–tell me to just pull myself up by my boot straps and write.
Deep cleansing breaths, Bernadette. Deep cleansing breaths. :)
Seriously, though – I feel your pain, at least the geography-based one. If you’ve seen any of the humor memes about the “Florida Man” – some of which I have to admit are hilarious – then imagine my chagrin over the fact that I literally *am* a native-born Florida man. Talk about feeling badly represented!
Anyhow, I totally empathize with the points you raise. And it’s interesting – I can take your final statement and with one minor edit make it a universal truism:
Just because one doesn’t suffer [INSERT PROBLEM HERE], doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist for others.
A big amen to that. Thanks for weighing in!
There’s nothing wrong with being blocked. It happens. It has happened to me.
Psychologically speaking, it’s a form of anxiety. Happens for many reasons, manifests in different ways. Still, it’s just anxiety and there are ways to deal with that.
And, really, who isn’t at some time paralyzed by anxiety? Public speaking is a common one. PTSD is an extreme example, where one’s very brain has become rewired. Writers block can feel painful yet it is also temporary and can be overcome.
I think that’s why some dismiss it; They just easily and naturally breeze through to a standard solution for “stuck”, which for others arrives less automatically. But, luckily there is always a solution, things to try.
Appreciate you normalizing a pretty common if even normal experience for writers.
Is it wrong that I’m relieved to hear that even The Donster gets blocked?
Seriously, though – thanks for a much-needed reality check!
Sadly, I once wrote that I didn’t believe in Writer’s Block. But I wrote it to Writer’s Block, hoping that it would go away and leave me alone.
Tina, the big question is:
Did it work?
:)
I came to WU from reading the latest from PolitiFact, the fact-checking organization. Denial seems a chronic condition today, at least among certain elected officials. It’s no more useful to writers than it is in society in general.
On the other hand, it does suggest one way to work through writers block: choose your favorite target and create a dialogue, character, or intrigue involving him/her.
You had me at depression. Once upon a time, I suffered this particular malady, and was prescribed Zoloft. A certain person in my family exclaimed, and I quote, “Robin! What if you have to take that for the rest of your life?!” (think overzealous Christian) I am a Christian and I have experienced Divine healing. I also believe that the medical options we have available are a God-send, and there is no shame in availing ourselves of them. But I digress…
After pumping out seven novels, my brain is sludging through the new story. I know the story, know the characters (a little too well, even – it’s what I’m doing to force my brain into the story world… ) Methinks, truly though, my brain is on semi-sabbatical. I mean four novels in a year (and I don’t write ’em short) plus major surgery immediately after.
All this to say, whatever you call it, Writer’s Block is real and it’s serious. Another way of looking at it is that our imaginary friends are refusing to speak to us! ha!
Then again, sometimes it’s a matter of BIC, HOK, and write. Something. Anything. Surely there will be some thread of gold in there.
I feel very strongely about this issue. Having taught Creative Writing for the last 10 years, I can affirm that writers’ block is indeed a thing. If something goes wrong in your life – it can be physical, such as an illness or a trauma – one of the first things that can disappear is your writing head. It takes a huge amount of mental energy to write and if you are under stress, your body can react by abruptly cutting off that outpouring. Of course, it doesn’t hit everyone like that – some people can access those adverse life events and use them to actually fuel their creativity. But that doesn’t prevent writers’ block being devastating to those who find their ability to write suddenly disappearing just at the time when they need the comfort and affirmation of their talent.
One of the things about our internet society is that it’s all too easy to forget kindness and instead jump straight to being dismissive and shaming.
The old adage, “If you can’t say something nice…” really is a bit of wisdom.
Thank you for this post.
Thanks for this post!
I find writer’s block is like a crying baby: it’s telling you something’s wrong, but it just can’t tell you what.
Over time, I’m learning to look for what that problem is. Do I have unacknowledged doubt about the next scene? Am I tired? Dehydrated? Stressed about something else?
Sometimes it’s just that I haven’t thought through what I’m trying to do with the next scene, and so the writerly engine within is just sitting in neutral. I can rev it all I want: I’m not going anywhere till I sort out the problem.
Realizing this has been a great boon, and a great saving on days where I’d be tempted to throw up my hands and give up because “it’s not working!”
I love this, Keith. As someone who battles with Block constantly (I call it Writing Anxiety) I am forever hearing “no such thing as writer’s block, it’s writer’s laziness” or “How come there’s no such thing as bricklayer’s block?” to much jolly and scornful audience laughter. And yet, there is no similar shaming of performers who battle with stage-fright — there’s universal sympathy there. And yet I contend it’s the same (or similar) thing.
I struggle with every book, but I get there in the end. It’s a private, personal, daily battle as anyone who’s experienced knows, and we don’t need to be shamed by those who’ve never experienced it and don’t have the imagination to understand.
Thought provoking post, Keith. Apologies for being late to the party. Yesterday was consumed with a procession of appointments. I absolutely believe that writers can develop issues with the creative process. Whether one calls it being blocked or having a crisis of confidence, it exists. I can only speak from my own perspective, but I believe that crisis of confidence is the the better definition. I believe it is driven by internal and/or external factors like by negative self-talk, frustration with the WIP, rejection, etc. I also would like to offer a rather simplistic solution, but I know from experience that it works.
When a crisis of confidence descends, put away the writing and do something else – anything else that is not illegal or unhealthy. Clear your mind. Do not think about writing, your WIP, or the words not pouring onto the page. Unless there is a clinical element involved in the “block”, taking a thirty minute or all day break from what has you in a tailspin will often clear the path.
If there is a clinical element involved in one’s writer’s block, get the help needed. Refusing to seek help with one’s emotional health is just as toxic as refusing to seek help with one’s physical health.
Keith, I’ve always seen the lack of compassion for writer’s block as either a failure to imagine that which we haven’t experienced OR a distancing mechanism based in fear. The former is a known psychological bias in humans and can be almost impermeable to facts.
The latter is akin to the wishful thinking that drives victim-blaming around sexual assault. It’s frightening to acknowledge that we live in a world where bad things happen to good people for no apparent reason. Better to blame the length of the victim’s dress and never wear a mini-skirt, thus gaining an invalid sense of control, than experience ongoing uncertainty in an unfair world.
In denying the existence of writer’s block, I believe some people are attempting to keep at bay that which they know to be true.
At the same time, I do believe there are things which can be done to improve the situation a blocked writer, if people have the resources. WB doesn’t necessarily have to be an intractable situation.
GREAT insights, Jan – thank you for weighing in.
Agreed on all points.