Blockheaded

The other day, I claimed to be suffering from “block,” which is a word I usually try to avoid. I prefer to call myself “stumped,” or “stymied” – I don’t know why, since all those words pretty much mean the same thing, which is that you’re sitting in front of the goddamn blank page and you can’t seem to make any words come out and stick to it. But I feel like people over-rely on the idea of “writer’s block,” like it’s this outside force that’s attacked you, like it’s a disease that you can’t do anything about, so you just shrug and say, “I’m blocked,” and that’s it. And I don’t want to give it legitimacy as a phenomenon; I don’t want to give it any more power than it already has. I don’t want people to be able to point to it – “Oh, it’s block, every writer gets it sometimes, you can’t control it” – and use it as an excuse for not writing.

Because there is no excuse for not writing, except that you don’t want to write.

So what is this thing that people call “block”? Block is an overwhelming emotional state that occurs when you are trying to write that prevents you from doing so in the moment. That’s it. It’s just a feeling. It’s not a state of being, it’s not a condition. It’s a temporary feeling that gets in the way of you expressing your creativity. A temporary feeling – unless you feed into it by claiming it, cherishing it, telling everyone about it, giving it credence in your mind. Then it can become a permanent part of your life.

Often, the emotion that’s temporarily preventing you from feeling like you can write is fear. I think this is what I was dealing with the other night. There were many things on my mind, but I didn’t think I could write about any of them, because I feared the consequences. Some subjects were too personal, some were professionally inadvisable, so none came out. Which is fine – sometimes fear, like anger, can be a helpful guide. Sometimes it inhibits you, but often, it helps to steer you away from dangerous situations. So rather than saying, “I’m blocked,” it is more helpful to say to yourself, “I am afraid to write about what’s really on my mind.” This is when you go get out your notebook, the one you keep only for yourself that nobody else ever gets to read, and you write down the feeling of fear. I’m afraid so-and-so would be hurt if they read it; I’m afraid of talking about her death because I will lose my shit with grief. Just a few sentences to answer the question: What are you afraid of writing about, and why?

And that’s it. You’re done. Unless you feel like writing more about it, in which case, go right ahead. But you don’t have to. You’re not obliged to write about anything you don’t want to. You just have to be honest with yourself about what’s stopping you and why, so you can move on to something else.

Fear of writing can take so many forms. There’s the fear of being personally exposed (“I can’t write this because then people will know this about me”), the fear of not being good enough (“This first sentence sucks, so all the rest of them are going to suck, and I am a sucky writer, so I should just give up”), the fear of disappointment (“Who cares what I write; it’ll never find an audience anyway”), the fear of revisiting painful situations (“I don’t even want to think about it, much less write about it”). Then there’s fear masquerading as other things, like boredom (“I don’t have anything interesting to write about”), or resentment (“All successful writers are sell-outs and hacks”). It’s all fear.

Some of these fears are more valid than others. If you really feel you can’t risk personal exposure, then don’t write publicly for now – write for yourself, and worry about who to share it with later. If you fear not being good enough, join the fucking club. None of us are good enough, but we do it anyway. Because the worst writer is the one who never writes at all, and you’re never going to get better without practice. So stop judging yourself and start writing, and don’t reread a word of it until you’re got fifty pages finished. If you fear disappointment, then recognize your ambition – “I want to be published, damn it,” or, “I want to win the Oscar for Best Original Screenplay” – then recognize that your worst fear is already realized, because you’re not getting published or winning an Oscar right now, and you’ve got no shot at it until you write something. Use your ambition to work for you, not against you. And recognize that you will often be disappointed in the writing life, but never while you’re sitting at your desk working.

The fear of revisiting painful situations is valid. It’s going to be painful. Do it anyway. You’ll feel so much better when you’re on the other side of it. Things that caused me serious anguish are no longer as painful for me, now that I’ve written about them. The pain leaves your body and sticks to the page; you are rubber, the page is glue. Boredom is not valid. If you can’t think of an interesting subject, then something else is going on that you’re not acknowledging – anger, or fear of the real subject matter you’re avoiding. I always have people in my memoir seminars who say, “My life was boring,” and then they tell me some story about their mom dropping dead in the supermarket that makes my hair curl. Birth, death, illness, love, betrayal – subjects everyone has written about before – they’re all interesting. They’re all we have in life. As for resentment, get over it. It’s just anger, and fear of failure. Yeah, it sucks that Posh Spice can get a bazillion dollar book deal in ten minutes, while you might slave away for ten years on your novel. But at the end of those ten years, you will have written, you will be a writer, while Posh Spice will still just be tits on a stick.

Look, I know it’s not all that simple. If you’ve been reading for a while, you’ve seen me struggle with “block” again and again. I’ve written about the fear, the ennui, the thwarted ambition – I’m not saying it doesn’t happen. I’m not saying it’s not debilitating. What I am saying is that you’re not alone in it, and it’s not hopeless. Block is fear, and fear is real, but it’s not a mystery. It’s not a voodoo curse that someone laid on you that you’re powerless to resist. It is temporary, and it is navigable. The first step is calling it by its real name: Fear. The second step is identifying what the fear’s about. The third step is confronting it in a safe way that doesn’t make it worse for you. And then you’ve taken three steps, and you’re walking.

Comments

[M. David Hornbuckle]

I don't feel like writing today, but maybe I'll get over it before the day is over.

[Kathy]

I didn't feel like writing for my "real" (read: paying) writing job this afternoon, but I did. And I still don't think it's good enough, but I've accepted that I'll never think my writing is good enough.

[Just Me]

Thanks for shining the klieg light on it. I'll be coming back to re-read this when I start feeling that... resistance. It'll remind me to ask myself WTF is going on.

[michelle]

Thanks, Janice. I needed to read this.

How many different notebooks do you have going at any one time?

[Kirsten]

I, quite simply, love you. You always say just exactly what I need to hear when I need to hear it. Are you listening in? ;^)

[Clio Bluestocking]

A friend of mine and I were playing a game in which we wrote about "what I'm not thinking about when I'm writing." I couldn't answer that question. All of my answers ended up being "what I CAN'T think about when I'm writing or I will never get a word out." You named about every single one of those things that I can't think about in order to write -- unless, of course, I am writing specifically about those things. In any case, thank you for articulating this. I think I will print out the post and tape it over my desk!

[Naomi]

I want to talk to you about this sometime when we've got the time -- in person, by phone, by email, whatever. Because the perception I've been working from is that I can still write poetry and songs sometimes, but that I burned out my prose talent ten years ago and it has never come back. I've been thinking a lot about that perception lately (largely prodded by Callie), and concluded that it isn't valid. I don't know what the truth is instead, only that that's not it, or not all of it. I'd love to try to talk through with you what the heck is going on in there.

[Hamartia]

Truth and Existence..

Are we talking about truthful disclosure as an aesthetic gesture or as an ethical, pratical step toward utility in everyday life..?

[satia]

First, check this out and be sure to check out the link in the comments:

http://sleepyreader.blogspot.com/2008/01/have-you-found-her-janice-erlbaum.html

Second, what you wrote is really dead on. I mean, any time I stop writing it has been rooted in fear of some sort. Okay. Not always. Sometimes I just stop to let my creativity lie fallow before the next spring of productivity. But there have been times when I knew that I was blocked (not resting) and always that block had something to do with my being afraid.

My blocks always seem to start in my journals and ripple out from there.

[chris lee]

If our terms are "aesthetics" what about the gestation of ideas..?

[Bill Scurry]

I can't read. Where does that leave me?

[Taz]

OK, you got me. After reading, without comment for...uh....over a year now, you've finally inspired me to write....a comment.
So hi, I'm a reader from Tasmania (about as Downunder as you can get). I read 'Girlbomb' a while back, loved it, and have been following the blog ever since (lurking?). And just this week, as I was lamenting that I can't justify buying 'Have You Found Her?' just yet (mortgage, interest rate rises....ugh), I get a letter from my bookshop with a $50 free voucher! Yee-har!
So, I have it on order....and 'only' have to wait another month or so till it arrives. Ah, the antici........pation!
So, thanks for all you do,
Taz

[kath]

With no intention of making light of what you wrote here..totally off topic..

My husband brought a box of donuts home this morning and I immediately thought of you, so came by to see how you are doing...

I susect that writing is IN you Janice.. and has to come out. If on certain moment of a certain day, it is not happening.. maybe you should do something else? Just for a while....... as long as the something else is not fretting over not writing. One day your list of books on Amazon will be very long.

The last comment is a prediction of the mom in me as well as the reader in me..and the oracle in me too of course...

[girlbomb]

Whoa! Such great responses to this post, and so little time to answer them, aside from a now customary "thanks."

Michelle, I keep one notebook at a time -- a private, near-daily journal. Highly recommended for all writers! Naomi, I look forward to chatting by phone soon, and to reading more of your prose. Hamartia (and Chris Lee), I don't know if I see a distinction between my ethics and my aesthetics, but maybe I don't really know what "aesthetics" means. Satia, thanks for posting the review(s), and Kath, DONUTS!!!

Oh, and Bill, it's probably best if you just watch TV. TV is gud.

[satia]

No need to thank me. I am reading so many blog entries about your book it's crazy. I don't bother linking to the ones that are vague. "I read this book. It's good. You should read it too." But then I can't say that my book reviews are erudite or entlightening. I write them more for myself than others.

[Callie]

Spot on! This is great, and very helpful to me as well as to N. Thanks for, as another commentator said, "shining a klieg light on it"!

[Jenny]

Tits on a stick! Hahahhahahahaaah!!

Oh, man. Great post, and that just made me literally L.O.L.