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Tag: beat writer’s block

  • The Real Source of Writer’s Block (And an Exercise to Beat It)

    The Real Source of Writer’s Block (And an Exercise to Beat It)

    Do you remember how easy it was to tell a story when you were a kid?

    All you had to do was pick up two mismatched socks (at least mine were anyway) and create a simple, silly narrative around Mr. and Mrs. Stripey-Sock.

    And back in those days, you always had an audience sitting on the edge of their seats.

    That’s right: good old mom and dad believed you were a best-selling novelist even at age five. In fact, my parents would still give me a standing ovation at 27 even if I used Mr. and Mrs. Stripey-Sock to this day, bless their hearts.

    So, what changed? Your audience expanded beyond easy-to-please mom and dad. Your less forgiving, more intimidating audience feasted for a story far more satisfying than the romantic comedy ‘unfolding’ in the laundry room.

    That pressure caused you to scrutinize every word you wrote. And eventually, writing stories became complicated.

    Writers must experience growth, so ditching the simple “pair of socks” narrative is good for your craft. But should you completely abandon your childish impulses when it comes to storytelling? How can saving one specific childish impulse keep writer’s block at bay?

    The true source of all writer’s block

    If you’re anything like me (a writer with a tea IV), then you’ve experienced writer’s block before without understanding why.

    The root of all writer’s block comes from doubt.

    We doubt that our characters, our scene, our plot, etc. makes sense, and is likewise unique to the reader. Doubt keeps us from tackling the scene we’re struggling with, head on. The more we question our story, the more we abandon our true self.

    When we solely focus on writing a story that will satisfy the mainstream audience, we lose our connection to our unique voice and childlike freedom in creativity. And that’s the aspect of our childhood we need to keep very much alive.

    So how do we do it? How do we get back in touch with the fearless creative we once were and rediscover our unique writing voice?

    Through this one simple trick.

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    Five minutes of freedom

    Take out a piece of paper or open up a new word document.

    Set a timer for five minutes (but keep it out of your field of vision).

    For those five minutes, write every single thought that comes to your mind. Don’t edit a single word. Don’t allow your brain to automatically correct grammar, spelling, sentence structure or cohesiveness for a moment.

    That’s right: for five minutes, be a kid, and dump your mind onto the page.

    Write about anything from a grocery list, to a brand new novel. This five minutes is your hot yoga, baby, and you’ve got to get in touch with your most honest thoughts.

    But, you’re probably wondering, “How the heck will this help me unlock my creative self?”

    See, after five minutes have passed, you may read your work and realize it’s lunacy. You may scoff and toss this technique aside. Would you be right to do so?

    Resuscitate your unique voice

    When I first tried this trick, I admit I hated it. Yet over time, I became hooked. I discovered that fear of judgement buried my voice more than six feet under.

    See, as writers, we’re taught to structure our voice. But it’s all too easy to let fear of failure bury your unique writing voice, unintentionally. Try this process for at least a month and you’ll discover the voice buried deep within.

    Thanks to this technique, I reignited my passion for writing and rebuilt trust in my unique voice. I discovered that readers love honesty so I am happy to let my voice take the reins more often. Now, I can clearly sense when doubt and fear begins to cripple my creative flow. Creating unique fantasy worlds and interesting characters, is fun once again.

    And when doubt starts to suffocate my voice again, I take out that timer, open up that word document and do a little nod to that toothy kid with a pair of mismatched socks on her hands.

    What about you? Is there a technique you implement in your writing routine which keeps you connected to the page? Let me know in the comments section below, I’d love to try out your techniques!

  • You Got This! 5 Out-Of-The-Box Ways to Beat Writer’s Block

    You Got This! 5 Out-Of-The-Box Ways to Beat Writer’s Block

    Staring at a blank page for hours on end, willing the words to come.

    Most writers have faced this dreaded writing scenario from time to time: a case of writer’s block.

    Even the most successful and prolific writers can suffer from a lack of words at times.

    It seems like every writer has a few tricks up their sleeve to handle writer’s block. Some like to focus on outlining and sketching out novel chapters while others prefer to use apps, calendars and spreadsheets to hit daily word goals.

    But sometimes it’s good to shake up your routine a bit in order to find new creative energy.

    Try these tips if you find yourself with a case of the dreaded writer’s ailment.

    1. Go to clown class

    If you don’t have visions of red clown noses and funny wigs, you don’t have to literally go to clown school. But trying an activity that is out of your comfort zone and normal routine is a great way to shake things up and find your creativity.

    It doesn’t matter if you take a clown class, sign up for a curling league, go to comedy improv night or take a kazoo workshop. Whatever you do, you’ll end up with something new and exciting to write about afterward.

    After returning from your new experience, try writing about it as soon as you get home. Use your words to describe what you experienced, how you felt and who you met. Write a character profile of someone you met, describing what they look like, how they speak and what they wear.

    Be careful; there’s always a fine line between “shaking up your routine” and procrastinating.

    Make sure you use your new activity as a mental refresh and inspiration to get the words flowing rather than a distraction from writing.

    2. Use your hands

    Writers use their hands to type or scrawl notes longhand all day long.

    To shake up your routine, try using your hands in a different creative way. Sculpt clay, paint a picture, crochet a hat or make a collage to turn your brain onto a different type of creativity.

    You can even apply this creative technique to your projects.

    If you’re writing a novel, sketch out some of your characters visually. If you’re writing about a room, draw the room. What does the sofa look like? How is the table set? Is there a centerpiece? Are there placemats? If you’re drawing a landscape, what types of animals are hidden in the frame? Are there birds, squirrels, insects, or a friendly dog lazing about?

    You don’t have to write words to make progress with your story.

    3. Find natural inspiration

    I’m one of many writers who loves to work outdoors, but you don’t have to bring your laptop with you to find outdoor inspiration and break out from your writer’s block.

    Go for a walk or a hike, preferably out in the woods, but even a neighborhood park will do.

    Consider bringing a journal and freewriting about three different experiences you have along the way. Don’t overthink it. You don’t have to experience earth-shaking personal revelations to have something to write about on the trail. You can write about an interesting tree or a rain cloud or your experience with a blue jay that watched you eat your lunch.

    It doesn’t matter what you write about. The important part is spending time having experiences out in nature and putting those feelings and adventures into words.

    After you get your creative mind flowing, you might find the words on your blocked project come along easier, too.

    4. Find a prompt

    If you Google “writing prompts” you’ll discover more than 1.8 million results. And, if you’re more visually inclined, check out Pinterest’s collection of writing prompts.

    Wherever you find your prompts, don’t spend too much time trying to select the perfect one.

    Just pick one and start writing. Set a timer for 10 minutes (or whatever length of time you like) and write words. If the words don’t come, write about how they’re not coming. Describe your fingers sitting on the keyboard or tapping on the table. Describe yourself. Write about your desk.

    Prompts are great because your only goal is to write for a certain amount of time.

    Your writing doesn’t have to meet any standards and no one ever has to read it. But it’s a great exercise to help get your brain going.

    5. Read

    If the words still aren’t coming, grab a good book and start reading.

    But if you write about the book, it might be even more helpful. Read a chapter and then write about that chapter. Write about your favorite character or favorite scene. Describe your thoughts and what you might do differently. Hypothesize about a character’s motivations or what might happen next.

    But be sure not to compare yourself to the author. Just enjoy the story and, hopefully, it will help your own story keep spinning along in your mind and on the page.

    However you work to conquer writer’s block, don’t worry about it too much. It’s only a temporary ailment. These techniques should help you shake up your routine enough to get back on track with your writing.   

    How do you beat writer’s block? Tell us in the comments below.

  • How Anne Lamott Helped This Woman Beat Writer’s Block

    How Anne Lamott Helped This Woman Beat Writer’s Block

    I hadn’t written much this summer, yet the ache to write had been my constant companion.

    It hovered in my back as I packed and unpacked boxes and suitcases. It lingered in my legs as I tread water with my kids in the pool. It sat on my shoulders at family gatherings. It took up space in my head already crowded with too many thoughts about too many things that matter too little.

    So to relieve the ache, I wrote.

    I wrote in phrases during stolen moments of guilt while my kids stared at iPads; distracted moments watching Simone Biles and Michael Phelps be truly great at something; short moments when I thought I might find my groove. (I didn’t.)

    The result: a combination of phrases that alone are sentimental and cliched — taken together are paragraphs of sludge connected by a web of confusion. I’m trying too hard; a magician looking for a rabbit without my hat.

    The best stories are seemingly simple, but textured with subtle nuance and complexity. I have simple with no texture; texture with no story. I can’t find the story in anything.

    When writer’s block settles in

    I read.

    I read haunting stories about mothers losing children and stories of summer so rich in detail, I smelled the salt in the sea air without leaving my chair. How did they do that? How were they able to create scenes so vivid, stories so poignant, they STILL stick with me?

    I’ve been writing for a long time now. I’ve been here before. We writers know this spot well. Self doubt, self consciousness, jealousy, envy. These terrible friends lure you into the giant black abyss that swallows Great Ideas and Inspiration.

    I waited until I felt like I might drown in all the world’s noise and all the emptiness filling my brain. Things got quiet and I heard them, as I usually do — those rhythmic messages the universe sends at exactly the right time.

    Over the course of a few days, I heard it in a variety of forms, voices and manners: if you really want something, you’ll figure out a way to get it. The world was whispering directly to me, “If you want to create magic with words, Kathleen, stop looking for a rabbit and just write.”

    (Re)moving the block  

    I started writing this.

    And then stopped.

    No one cares. I don’t care.

    If you really want to feel validated as a writer, then just write.

    But is that it? Is that what I want? Why do I have this ache to write?

    So I did like any struggling writer does and decided it was suddenly and urgently time to take all the books off the bookshelves I hadn’t touched in years, and sort through ones to keep and ones to donate. Which lead to the dust; thick blankets of grey that needed to be removed and vacuumed. There were stacks of old magazines with no obvious reason for taking up so much shelf space for so long. Did I really think I might go through them again?

    Not five minutes into my new and very important project, there she was: Anne Lamott.

    “Writing can give you what having a baby can give you: it can get you to start paying attention, can help you soften, can wake you up. But publishing won’t do any of those things; you’ll never get in that way.”

    My old friend, Anne.

    I first read Bird by Bird as a lost and lonely twenty something. I’d started taking writing classes at a prestigious university in Cambridge. I worked a dead end job there during the day — sending emails on behalf of VIPs, ensuring copiers had paper, and wondering if there really was such a thing as a real job.

    But once a week, I’d stuff a folder full of my words and sit around a table with people far more intelligent, experienced and talented than I at the “extension school” (an appendage of prestige). I wrote terrible stories. I’m now not sure how anyone read them without wondering what in the world I was doing at that table. I needed a therapist, not a writing course. In retrospect, none of the feedback I’d gotten from fellow classmates or professors was genuinely encouraging, but I kept enrolling in class after class as if the shear amount of time spent might somehow equate to an increase in talent.

    The epiphany (all good stories have one)

    Anne Lamott made me feel like it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if no one ever read what I wrote. It didn’t matter if they did and hated it. It didn’t matter if it was terrible. And it certainly didn’t matter why I was writing. What mattered was that I felt better when doing it than when I wasn’t.

    This post has taken days. Weeks, actually. It started to come together when I stopped thinking where I might send it; who would want to read it; and what point I was trying to make. It started to come together when I forgot about universal truths about writing and ego and creativity and typed word by word.

    I don’t know if it’s any good. But I do know it felt good to write it, and maybe that’s all the validation I need.