Writer's Block in Disguise

Geralt via Pixabay

In one of her recent Facebook posts, author and author success coach Deborah Riley-Magnus posed this question:

Author survey question of the day ... I don't believe in writer's block, but I do believe in fear that can paralyze the fingers. What are your tricks to get over the blank page and get the ball rolling on those rare occasions when you're uncertain or concerned about the project at hand?

My response came quickly and easily:

Just write. Anything. Words on the page are easier to edit (even if you delete them all when better words show up) than a blank page. 

I believe that. And, like Deb, I don't believe in writer's block, or, at least, I refuse to call it that. Sure there are extenuating circumstances, but when it comes to day-to-day writing roadblocks, it's much easier to slap a handy label on them and go do something that's not as much work than it is to sit down and put words -- any words -- on a page or screen.

It only occurred to me after I responded to Deb's post that my writer's block (again, assuming there is such a thing) comes in a different form.

Procrastination.

I'm very good at following my own write something -- anything advice once my butt is in my chair. Unfortunately, I'm equally good at not sitting down to write in the first place. I can create a day's worth of things I should do instead, thus completely circumventing Deb's question in the first place.

In theory, the answer to this dilemma is equally plain and simple:

1. Stop doing everything else.
2. Sit down.
3. Write.

It's not that writing is that easy; some days, pushing a rock up a mountain would be less difficult and more fulfilling. But there's only one way to get better at it, only one way to fill pages with words, only one way to turn those words into stories and books and articles and that is to sit down and write. Write messy, write nonsensical, write garbage. 

Just. Write.

Now all I need to do is practice what I preach.

So, What do You Write?

Photo: Luis Llerena via Unsplash.com

When I first started writing, I wrote nonfiction. Exclusively. I worked on one article at a time and never had to worry about getting characters or story lines confused.

When I began trying my hand at fiction, it was as part of a writing class. I worked on one piece at a time, and the stories were short. I had a job and a small child, and I wrote in small snippets of time during which it was easy to keep one story straight, whether it was fiction, non-fiction or an essay.

Novels came later, and since I still had the job and the child, I continued to work in snippets of time. Though I spent most of my writing time working on my novel-in-progress, I found time to work on articles over the summer, and even occasionally during the school year. Somewhere along the way, I picked up blogging, and started working that in, too.

When I retired, one of my goals was to blog on a regular basis. Four years later, I have a weekly schedule I stick to, writing five to six blogs each week and posting Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday in three different locations.

That's when it got complicated.

Some days, I blog ahead of time so that my posts are all ready to go on their assigned days. Other days, I'm still figuring out what I want to write about early -- or even later -- in the day, and the blogs hang over my head until I write and post them. Once they're finished, I have time for discretionary writing.

When that time rolls around, I sometimes have trouble figuring out what I want to write. Right now, for example, I'm working on new story for one novel, revisions on a second and the occasional non-fiction article for one of the online or print publications that regularly accepts my work. Some days, one project is foremost in my mind, so that's where I put my energies. Other days, they jockey for position or, worse yet, refuse to be prodded into submission like so many unruly teenagers.

I told the barista -- a fellow writer --
that I was going to work
on revisions. 

Eventually, as most parents/supervisors do, I manage to coerce one of them into cooperation and actually make
progress. Sometimes, I need to leave home to do this.

Most writers I know work on multiple projects -- some simultaneously, others sequentially. Tomorrow, you'll meet my friend Rachel, who's primarily a novelist, but has also just put together an adult coloring book that fits with the theme of her soon-to-be-released novel. A talented illustrator, Rachel divides her time among a number of writing and illustrating projects -- and several pseudonyms as well. I don't know how she does it all. (Maybe she'll tell us tomorrow).

So, when you ask a writer what she writes, don't be surprised if the answer is "a little bit of everything." Unless she's famous, chances are good that she divvies her available time up among a number of projects, perhaps feeling as though she never really has enough time for any of them. Who knows? Maybe famous writers do this, too.

Perhaps some day I'll find out.

Where to Write

Photo credit: Luis Llerena via unsplash.com

More than twenty years ago, I left a full-time job as a school counselor in one district to take a part-time job as a school counselor in a neighboring district. A foreshadowing of decision that I'd make nearly twenty years later, it was the first step in pursuing my dream of writing for publication.

Actually, it was my sister who suggested that I use my newfound day off to write. Aside from her family and her own writing, it was one of the best ideas she ever had.

At first, I wrote at the dining room table in our apartment. To call it a "dining room" is generous; our scarred table and chairs took up most of the space in the eating area off the kitchen, but there was enough room for me and my word processor. I wrote articles for magazines, submitting them (unsolicited) to editors and receiving many rejection letters, but the occasional acceptances I found in the daily (snail) mail were enough to sustain my enthusiasm.

We bought a house a few years later, and I turned the downstairs bedroom into an office. The decor was a throwback to the 1970s, but I had an entire room to myself. Our first computer, complete with dial-up Internet access, soon graced the desk, rendering my word processor obsolete.

Then came motherhood. Initially, my office became a dumping ground for all things deemed off-limits to a baby, but then, a few years later, we turned the room into a playroom. The desk was relegated to the basement, my books replaced by my daughter's books, my photos put aside as her artwork graced the walls. Finding writing time was hard, and while that bothered me a little, my writing time quickly became less important than my mommy time.

Eventually, we enclosed a side porch off the living room, a decision my daughter has still not completely forgiven me for. In so doing, we created a new office, one we all shared at first. Over time, the room became my writing space, although I probably wrote just as frequently in other places -- sometimes at Starbucks, but most often in the car, while waiting for my daughter to finish an activity. Those were the years that taught me how to write in small snippets of time.

The office has continued to evolve, and it's truly my space now, but being home alone on weekdays has made me more nomadic. Some days I write in the office, but I'm also likely to work in the living room, the playroom (now a man cave) or at my trusty standby, the dining room table. Other days, I go to Starbucks where I can get away from all the distractions of home, and I can work on only what I've packed in my bag.

The places have changed. The tools have changed. Even the genres have changed.

But the writing has remained constant.