“Well, well. Here it is,” you say.
It’s not a pizza delivery. It’s not a stray kitten on your doorstep or flowers from your spouse. Nuh uh. It’s none of those wonderful things. Not even close. And now that it’s here, you want it to go away. Right this minute.
As a writer, you might have had it before, but it was a while back, and you thought you’d conquered it for good. It’s that moment in time—which might be measured in hours or days or, God forbid, weeks—where you can’t get a single word on paper (or the screen).
“But wait!” you say. “I don’t get…that!”
Indeed, just saying the words “writer’s block” makes you shudder. Because you are not a person who gets stuck. You’ve written a book, after all, or maybe you’ve written a dozen. Or maybe you haven’t written any and you’re just trying to come up with a witty sentiment for a birthday card. But the longer you deny your raging case of the block, the longer it will take you to recover from it. I know because it’s happened to me before, and it’s happening right now.
I can’t even blame it on the pandemic.
Not one person on the planet can say the coronavirus hasn’t affected them in some way. But for me—someone who’s been working from home for years—life hasn’t changed all that much. Back in March, when the pandemic forced my husband to set up shop in our home office, it was a little strange having him around all the time, but I’ve really come to appreciate this new normal. For one, I don’t have to spend coffee and lunch breaks alone anymore. And for two, I take coffee and lunch breaks now! I would even say that because my husband has brought much of his work structure home with him, it’s been rubbing off on me. I’m more focused now. Less likely to be distracted by shiny objects, whether it’s surfing social media or having a snack, or going shopping. Unfortunately, despite the perks, nothing could have prevented my creativity slump, and suddenly I’m freaking out that book two will never get finished.
I’m not sitting around waiting for a miracle to happen, though.
Often when the words won’t come, I free write. I find that the very act of writing something, anything, down on paper or screen can help dislodge those words in my brain. I’ll churn out whole pages of gibberish to remind myself what it feels like to write again. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t. Today’s narrative involved a fox and a sad, lazy dog. Gibberish in all its glory.
When this technique fails, I move onto something else. There’s myriad advice on the internet about how to conquer writer’s block, which in itself feels too inflexible a term. I prefer “clog.” I have a word clog right now. And if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and see if I can’t get things moving again.
So here I go.
Out for a walk.
No, really, I’m going. It’s one of the first things the self-help sites suggest, almost without exception. So I’m going to try it as a real-time experiment. See you in an hour.
Okay, I’m back. And my head is clearer!
I wrangled up the dogs and my hubby and set off to explore our snowy neighborhood with the aim of changing up the scenery, and of course, to get away from that glowing screen of doom. What I didn’t expect was the instant release of tension—all the panic and anxiety melting away.
You might be thinking, “Well, duh. Has she never walked before?”
She has. Ahem…I have. But not with such razor-sharp intention. This time I paid attention to the processes going on in my brain and in my heart. In my soul. And as we walked, I was reminded of the advice my exasperated, eye-rolling daughter used to give me when I needed help with a malfunctioning cell phone: “Soooo like….have you tried restarting it?”
She asked the same question every time, with the exact same tone of voice. And every time, a reboot was all my phone needed.
Going for a walk is the body’s way of rebooting.
What a simple way to recharge. Not only does it get the blood pumping and encourage a deeper breath, but it also doesn’t have to take very long. Even fifteen minutes can be of benefit. And it’s free. With all these positives, you can bet the next time a word clog strikes, I’ll be flying out that door, no matter how cold or snowy or windy or…
Or I’ll resort to the third trick in my tool box for loosening the clog: The Think Tank, better known as the bathtub.
When I’m stuck—either on a scene or some dialogue or even the perfect word—immersing myself underwater will almost always get the words flowing again. I don’t know why it works, but it does. Now if only I could stay in there all day!
And if everything else fails, I’ll redirect my focus altogether and go read a book. Losing myself in other people’s words and ideas might be all that’s needed to get the creative juices flowing again. At the very least, it puts my troubles on hold for an hour or two.
It can happen to anyone.
If you think this problem is limited to people who write for a living, think again. Have you ever tried to compose a speech or a eulogy? A book review? A testimonial for a company that values your opinion? Or even that trivial little birthday sentiment? Sometimes the words just aren’t there.
Tell me about it!
What are some tricks you’ve used to get the words unstuck? Feel free to drop me a comment…unless you can’t think of anything to say! 😉
