The Dreaded Writer’s Block

Graphic by Peg Ihinger

Everyone agrees that writer’s block has something to do with not writing, but exactly what counts as writer’s block varies wildly. Some think writer’s block is anything at all that results in not-writing (including having a hangover or deciding they’d rather go to the beach today than write); others don’t think anything counts as writer’s block at all (because they can still write grocery lists and fill out forms, that’s writing, isn’t it?).

For purposes of this post, I’m not counting external obstacles  like hangovers, interruptions, spur-of-the-moment trips to the beach, or over-commitment as “writer’s block.” Writer’s block as I see it is an internal issue, something that keeps you from writing even when you really want to do it. It’s often as much a matter of perception as anything else. I know several writers who have years-long gaps in their writing production, but who don’t call those periods “writer’s block.” Their actual descriptions range from “I had other things to do” through “I didn’t have anything I wanted to say.” And in a couple of cases, multi-year gaps seem to just be part of a particular writer’s process.

Also, before I go any farther, I have to say that depression is not the same as writer’s block. Depression can cause people to stop writing, but it’s a separate thing that I am so very unqualified to talk about. If depression is the root of your writing problem, you probably need to get help for the depression first, preferably from a trained professional and not some random writer on the internet.

What I do consider writer’s block, I can group into four basic categories:

• Burnout is the most extreme form of writer’s block. It has a lot of possible causes, not all of which are writing-related. An ongoing state of “having more to do than you can possibly get done” can happen because the writer took on too many writing projects at once, but mostly, it comes from issues at one’s day job, extended family disasters, and other long-running high stress issues in one’s daily life. Fixing burnout requires taking a break and de-stressing. This is nowhere near as simple as it sounds, and it is very easy to think you’ve rested enough and start pushing too hard, too soon, which nearly always ends up being counter-productive.
• Writing block is what many non-writers think of when they hear the words “writer’s block.” It’s where I’d put the writers I know who’ve stopped writing for a while because they “don’t have anything to say right now” or “have run out of stories/characters” and who are seriously bothered by this situation (if not-writing doesn’t bother you, you’re not blocked). In my experience, this usually shows up between books, when the writer is casting around for a new project. Those who aren’t bothered seem to me to be leaning into a process that has long gaps between projects. It can be a good opportunity to find new material for your backbrain to chew on.
• Project block is what most of my writer-friends think of first. It’s getting stuck in the middle of a specific project—the writer can work on other projects, but not this one. Maybe the writer doesn’t know what happens next, or knows they want something different but can’t figure out what, or just can’t face writing one more juggling scene. Some writers get around this by constantly having three or more projects in-process at the same time, and rotating from one to another. By the time they get back to the first one, they’ve figured out what comes next. The problem is that this technique is difficult to distinguish from Shiny New Idea Syndrome until one realizes that one has written steadily for three or four years, but haven’t finished anything.
• A profound disinclination to write is just what it sounds like. It’s the grownup equivalent of “but I don’t want to go to school today” and “I don’t feel like doing my homework now.” Usually, it’s due to one of two things: either there’s something coming up in the story that the writer doesn’t want to write (it’s a type of scene they hate writing, it requires techniques they don’t know or don’t think they’re good at, it’s something that cuts unpleasantly close to home emotionally, etc.), or there is something the writer wants to do instead of write (go out and enjoy the weather, accept that invitation to see a movie, knock off some of those to-do items that have been bugging them for a while). This isn’t actual writer’s block—the writer could sit down and do it, they just really, really, really don’t want to—so sometimes it is okay to go to the movie or run the errands or whatever. The trick is to distinguish between the times when it’s a good idea to take a break for a day, and the times when it’s a good idea to practice discipline and write anyway. Giving in too often, especially several days in a row, can quickly become a habit that can be extremely hard to correct.

Different writers find different ways of coping with the first three types writer’s block. You can change your input by learning something new, going somewhere new, having a new experience. You can change your output—instead of writing, learn an instrument (or new songs on an old one), or crochet something, or paint, or design and build a treehouse. Many writers find it especially effective to express their creativity in making a physical object. Or change up how you are producing: instead of working on a computer at your dining table, try writing with a pen or pencil in a notebook at a park or a coffee shop, or draw a story-board with stick figures. Type “[Insert fight scene here]” then skip a few lines and write what comes after that, or skip straight to the end and try writing backwards. Set up a private Pinterest board of places, people, and things that look like they belong in your story. Curate wardrobes (in pictures) for your central characters, or set up the music playlists that each of them would listen to.

Most of all, don’t start feeling hopeless if none of those suggestions work for you. Your brain—and your process—is not the same as anyone else’s. Keep experimenting until you find something that does work, even if it’s something like decorating sugar cookies as your characters and then viciously biting the heads off each one. If it works for you, it works for you. This time, anyway.