Imagine You Could Kick Writer’s Block In The Nads

Here are some of writer’s block’s most poisonous weapons:

“I’m just not good at this.”

“I could do this once, but now I just can’t.”

“I…can’t think of anything worth writing.”

“If I write something, it’ll turn out to be shite anyway.”

One of the many challenges of writer’s block is that the writing comes from your head, and the Writer’s Block ALSO comes from your head. (I mean, it can come a bit from, say, your stomach if you’re dehydrated or starving; it can come easily from the stress of outside forces. But today, we’re talking about the inside of your head.

I talk to myself (and sometimes to my cat); been doing it all my life, at least in private. I do not REALLY think there’s someone or something else in my head; I am not speaking of psychology or demonology.

(Although, regardless of one’s religion, I find C.S. Lewis’ “Screwtape Letters” to be a gorgeous read, and I recommend it, if the religious aspects don’t turn you off.)

But the words of Writer’s Block are generally lying. Maybe you CAN’T do those things—but your brain really doesn’t know that for sure. And I’ve seen Writer’s Block broken often enough to disbelieve pretty much anything ‘it’ tells me.

This is why I prefer to thing of Writer’s Block as an actual, insidious, living entity in your head which is actively opposed to you, your life, and, most of all, the act of creating things.

(Can I assume I don’t need to warn you about taking it too far? I have no idea how you get whatever they currently call multiple/split personalities, but it doesn’t sound fun.)

This is something you are welcome to try:

If you have Writer’s Block, don’t think of it as being a part of yourself. Think of it as being part of something that WANTS to hurt you…and recognize that.

Because even if you still can’t write, when it starts suggesting those lies—whether you think in words, pictures, or feelings—when you start getting the sense from your head that you can’t write when you’ve already written at least SOMETHING…

….that’s when you start smiling, maybe a big smile, maybe a tight little smile, as the discouragement comes.

“Come at me!” I tell the Writer’s Block. “Go ahead! Do your best! Do your worst. I know you’re a liar.”

This may not break your writer’s block (I’ve written other techniques for that, if you’d like to check.)

But you’d be surprised how much better you feel about yourself. And, generally (if not invariantly) you feel rather better about your writing.

The easiest cure for writer’s block is to write. The great challenge is that once that Enemy is at work, you become afraid to write for a number of reasons.

Dianna Wynne Jones, in her book “Archer’s Goon”, references a writer who is made a deal that involved financial stability so long as he provided a certain number of coherent words a month for this person. They could be coherent words about ANYTHING. It could be a story with no good ending about rabbits suddenly turning carnivorous. It could be a diatribe about how uncomfortable your chair is.

I feel bad commanding you to write; who am I, to know that this cure is possible for you? I’ve had Writers’ Block which kept me away from my keyboard as if every keystroke I typed was giving me painful electric shocks. (I didn’t feel any shocks; but I hated the idea of TRYING to write.)

But let me give you this piece of an approach:

If you have Writer’s Block, try treating it specifically as a Monster Under The Bed that has a radio in your head. It FEELS like it’s coming from you. But it’s (metaphorically) an outside force.

And THAT means you can keep your own thoughts, continue to feel you’re a writer (or other creator!)…while actively tackling an opponent, instead of fighting yourself.

“You can’t write!” my head said to me, as I sat down to write this.

“You’re a jerk, and even if you’re correct, I’m going to write anyway,” I said to myself (but quietly, so as not to worry the nice fellow bringing me fried eggs and hash browns.)

And I wrote this.

Imagine Writer’s Block as a real thing which can yell insults and scare you, but can’t actually stop it.

Then kick it right in the nads with your preferred method (mine is sarcasm: “You’re a terrible writer!” “Maybe. But I still write better than you do, parasite.”)