Writer’s Block: Real or Imaginary?

Do you know what scared the spit out of Ernest Hemingway? It wasn’t big game hunting. It wasn’t facing an angry bull chasing after him in Pamplona. It wasn’t war. It was, as he put it, “a blank sheet of paper” and the prospect that words, his words, would desert him. 

For me, scary is knowing what I want to write, what I need to write–but my brain is bereft of words. Well, at least the ones I am searching for. It is playing what if until I am cross-eyed, then trying any other inspirational get-the-words-flowing exercise I have ever heard of to entice my characters to talk to each other or to me as I stare at the blank screen of my computer. This is what will make my stomach clench, make my throat feel like all air is cut off, and make me feel as if my muse, as fickle as she often is, has abandoned me–not just for a temporary moment or two, but forever. 

I have read an abundance of books and magazine articles on the subject of writer’s block. Is it real? Is it a physical thing that someone should develop a pill for? Or is it all in a writer’s head and simply an excuse for nonproductivity?  A rationalization not to write? 

Here’s the good news. Writer’s block is not your imagination in overdrive. It is as real as any other malady and will often manifest itself in a most physical way.   

So, what is writer’s block? It is the temporary (usually) inability to continue or finish a writing project due to fear or anxiety. It is creative paralysis that can last an hour, a day, or decades. It’s not a figment of your imagination. The definition of paralysis is: a state of helpless stoppage, inactivity, or inability to act. That is writer’s block.

Blocks such as these are insidious, starting as what may feel like an insignificant bit of resistance that you assure yourself will go away. But then it turns into anxiety that soon overwhelms, and culminates in intense fear which will for certain make you feel like you are paralyzed because even if you manage a sentence, a paragraph, or an entire page, it’s not perfect. You then convince yourself it must be perfect, even though it’s a first draft. 

The quest for perfection is the main culprit of writer’s block damn near every time.  

Is there a cure?

• Read. Then read some more. Immerse yourself in story–story that’s not yours. Read fiction. Watch a TV show with great writing. (May I suggest “Ted Lasso” and “The Great”?) Ask a like-minded friend for a movie suggestion and watch that.

• Go for a walk with no music blasting in your ear and just your thoughts to listen to.

• Just before you go to sleep, think about the scene or character you are having a problem with. Ask for the resolution to come to you while you sleep. In the morning, write down anything that’s in your mind.

• Visualize the walls keeping your words prisoner–and then visualize them crashing down. 

The best no-fail remedy, however, is to write. Write for five minutes. Write for ten. Set a timer with the understanding that the creation of one sentence is writing. It doesn’t matter if it’s crap. It doesn’t matter if you jump ahead or back and don’t write your scenes in order. It doesn’t matter a whit if you write outside the boundaries of your WIP. Just write. Write nonsense. Write crap. but write. Yes, I am repeating myself. Move your hand across the page. Write “I can’t think of anything to write” over and over until, trust me, more words will come, even if just out of boredom. You will write something; maybe not something good, but that’s okay. 

This exercise done consistently will help you push through your block. You’ll teach yourself how to write even when it’s not perfect, even when you don’t feel like it, even when other things are going on in your life, even when you hate your project and want to delete the whole thing (please don’t). Though, a warning: you may need to bully your inner critic into going away. The absolute truth of it all is getting any words down is key, because you can revise and rewrite bad writing. You can’t do anything with no words. If we all waited for the right mood to strike us or our elusive muse to appear, there would be a lot fewer stories for all of us to read and enjoy in the world. 

Lastly, think of the person who needs your story. There’s a person out there for whom your book is their favorite of all time. They’re having a terrible day today and could happily escape tonight into the pages of your story–if only you would write it for them. 

Ready, set, write!