matociquala posted this today, which reminded me of something I've been meaning to say for a while.
I think "writer's block" is possibly the single most unhelpful idea in the world of writing.
Some people say they don't believe in writer's block. Me, I believe in writer's blockS. In other words, there are many different causes that can produce the effect of Not Writing -- and they each have their own particularized solution. If you lump them all under one umbrella term, though, you obscure the differences, painting over them with a mystique that allows you to feel like you're suffering from something beyond your control (which, not coincidentally, absolves you of the need to do anything about it).
It isn't beyond your control. You just need to figure out what your problem is. Then you'll know how to solve it.
My most common problem -- since I don't outline -- is that I don't actually know what should happen next. Or at least I don't know it in enough detail to be able to put it on the page. Solution? I need to stop and think. I need to review what pieces are on the board, where they're trying to go, how they might try to get there.
A lot of authors, at one point or another, find themselves with the problem that they've taken a wrong turn. The solution to that last conflict was lame, or this subplot doesn't really fit the story. Solution? Backtrack. Rip some words out, return to the place where you went astray, try again. It hurts, but it hurts less than beating your head against the wall of that error.
Or maybe you don't want to write because you're bored with the story. Solution? Un-bore yourself. Pinpoint the cause of your disinterest (character? conflict?), and then send in a man with a gun -- by which I mean something that will wake your reader up again. Because if you're bored, odds are pretty damn high your reader will be, too.
Could be it's research. You're about to write the scene where they make their thrilling helicopter escape, and the idea excites you . . . but you don't actually know anything about flying helicopters. Solution? Do the research, or bracket it and move on and come back later to fill in the details.
Perhaps you're coming down with the flu. Solution? Take some medicine, down a bunch of O.J., contemplate whether the influence of drugs and vitamin C is enough to perk you up for work, or whether you're better off passing out on the couch and coming back tomorrow, once you can breathe through your nose again.
Or it's a longer-term problem than that: chronic medical issues, or enormous stress from other parts of your life (like grief or moving across the country or day job complications). Solution? Varies from person to person. Maybe it will be better for all involved, you and your story, if you set it aside while you deal with other things. Yes, even if you have a deadline; talk to your editor. Sometimes writing can be a coping mechanism -- but sometimes stress really does just drain the juice from your brain, leaving you with nothing. In these cases, beating yourself up with guilt will not help.
Or maybe your problem is that you'd rather play video games or surf the web or whatever. In that case, the solution is to plant your lazy ass in the chair and write.
All of these things can hamper your ability to put words on the page. But if you just call it writer's block, you don't know which problem you have, and you don't know what to do about it. And your attempts to fix it might be counterproductive: if you've gone the wrong direction with the story, forcing yourself to sit down and start a new scene will only add to the word-count you're going to rip out when you realize your mistake.
Having said all that . . . the difficulty lies in telling what your problem really is. I often can't tell the difference between laziness and "I haven't thought this through yet" -- not until I've sat down in the chair and spent at least half an hour trying to make myself do work. By then I've usually either overcome my inertia, or figured out that I just wasted half an hour on the wrong solution. But at least I recognize that pattern now, and can try to adapt when I find myself caught in it yet again. Which is more than I could do if I was lying on the couch, one hand stapled to my forehead, saying, "la, woe is me, I suffer from Writer's Block."
Just curious about your view on that.
stepping away from the soap box...
Re: stepping away from the soap box...
In general, no one would think of telling someone to "suck it up and deal" if they had a broken leg or polio or arthritis interfering with the ability to get out of bed in the morning.
Clearly you've never met many P.E. coaches . . . <g>
Don't know if that's helpful, but I thought I'd toss it out there. :)
Thank you for the suggestion, I'll give it a shot! ♥
I'd written a kinda long and ranty answer to this post, but I think it's a bit too ranty, so we're gonna start over.
I am a person who has said that writer's block doesn't exist. Thinking about it, I think I feel that way because I associate the phrase "writer's block" very specifically with the romanticizing process that
And I guess that bothers me, a lot, because I do my professional writing under very, very stressful conditions. I can't go to my clients and say, "sorry your grant isn't done, I had writer's block." I can't wait for inspiration. I need to get everything written in to my grant, and it all needs to be accurate and right - that's my job, that's what I get paid to do (okay, actually I've never been paid to actually write a grant, but that's quibbling. ;) ) - and I've never once sat down to work on a grant the first day and felt happy, good, or inspired - usually, I feel horrible, stressed, and anxious (in January, I had an anxiety attack the day before I had to start the damn things, I've only had a handful of anxiety attacks my whole life) - but none of that matters, because I'm being depended on, and in the end I have to just put my fingers on the keyboard and start writing, because I've come to learn from experience that - at least for me - once I get started, each day after that will get easier.
So I guess I've not looked at it the way you're describing, because I define writer's block narrowly, as this nebulous excuse that people use when they lack the will power to just bull through - something that people use when they don't have any legitimate excuse (and I do include things like depression, stress, etc., under legitimate excuses). The things that you've described, I think of under the categories of "challenges" (one of my favorite pieces of edu-speak jargon... ;) ) - things that make me sit there when I'm writing fiction and go, errrrrr, what next? Or, alternatively, when I realize that I'm too down or too tired to write, or too damn stressed, and I abort and take a break (like, oh, every fall and winter. ;) ). I guess what I'm attempting to say is that the reason I've said I don't believe in writer's block is that to me, those who really claim writer's block use it as an excuse because they don't have any of the other excuses that you describe as "types" and which I think of as legitimate explanations (which still need to be overcome before one can continue to write, of course). It's that abdication of responsibility - the belief that writer's block is, as you say, something outside of the writer's control. And it's not.
Does that make sense?
(...and that was my second try! my first was even worse... :) )
This post is actually a codified version of what I said to my students when I taught creative writing. Because those are probably the people most in need of hearing it: the ones who haven't yet learned to write like professionals, and are vulnerable to overlooking the reasons why they've "gotten stuck." Some of them will never become actual writers, some of them will, and some might move from one category to the other if they learn to pay attention, rather than letting a well-known term be their excuse to cop out.
If that makes any sense.
Writer's block as I understand it is a different animal altogether, and once you've experienced it, you'll be able to tell the difference: true Writer's block is an anxiety attack that really means you _can't_ face writing, anyomore than a person who's claustrophobic 'only' needs to take two strides into a lift. Of course they'd be physically able to do it... but they *can't do it*. And the more pressure they and others put upon them, the more frightening things become.
It's not helpful when people use the same term for two entirely different things, whether it's 'feeling a bit down/depression' 'being stuck/writer's block' 'fresh horse/bolting' - when you label an inconvenience with the name of a serious problem, you trivialise the problem, and I wish that people wouldn't.
We have ways to treat anxiety attacks. We don't have ways to treat writer's block, until it's been identified as something more specific.