Writer's Block

—Writer’s Block—

Is real. So very real. It’s also the phrase folks like to use who don’t know much about (or who have never tried) writing a novel. And who can blame them? Permit me, however, to suggest a few alternatives:

A writer could be…

  • (in a) Slump

  • (stuck in a) Trench

  • Lacking Gas

  • Stuck in the Pain Cave

  • Stuck in the Gom Jabbar

  • Banging their head against the steering wheel of their 2015 Mazda 3 that for some reason won’t stop shaking once they hit 65mph on the freeway even after they spent $2k on repairs.

Wow, Taylor, you’re now saying to yourself. So insightful. Thanks for these alternative turns of phrase. But how? How does a writer find themselves stuck in the Gom Jabbar?

Glad you asked. It’s an elusive beast, writer’s block. Many have studied its root causes, but few—even the most experienced of practitioners—have discovered clear answers. For me, the block typically follows a high or an in-the-zone few sessions where I produce writing I’m proud of on the first pass. It can also be more spontaneous: I return to a chapter or a scene, pick up where I left off, but freeze. Suddenly, out of nowhere, BAM! SLAM A-MAMMA-JAMMA! An intrusive thought or a setting beat, or a line of dialogue, or a character acting in a way antithetical to how I’ve written them the past 20k words, presents a fork in the road—a 10-pronged fork, each path riddled with poky plot thorns and character conundrums determined to inflict brain pain (the worst kind).

Enter paralysis. I examine each pathway, sometimes in my head, sometimes on my magic computer writing machine, sometimes on paper or a 21st century white board. Each pathway is interesting, I think. But each would take time—precious time (and creative energy)—to adequately explore. And how do I know if I’ll like it once I reach the end? Instead of exploring (writing) one of the pathways, I just think about them, exhausting my poor brain in the process. I read back what I’d written (what led me to the 10-pronged fork in the first place) and begin to doubt. Doubt the story, the characters, the plot. The doubt magnifies, and intensifies the more I read and dwell on its shortcomings. Motivation depletes. The candle of inspiration burns down to its last suck of wax. Inevitably, I waste hours sitting and staring and pacing and doom-scrolling on the Youtube, hoping that something will change.

It rarely does.

Man, Taylor. That sounds tough. I understand your plight a little better now. But surely it can’t last forever? How do you escape the Gom Jabbar? How do you free yourself of these creative shackles?

Sometimes it does last forever. Many writers shelve ideas or unfinished work following a visit to the Pain Cave. I, myself, have three 20k word vomits stuck on the shelf. But you can escape. There is hope. Here are a few ways that have worked for me.

  • Distance yourself from the work. If, like me, you’ve obsessive tendencies, this is super difficult. You just want to tackle the block and move on. But it will only exacerbate the pain inside the Pain Cave. Give yourself a day—a week if you can—then revisit with fresh eyes.

  • Have a music playlist that sends you to the moon. Or curate a playlist that fits the vibe of the novel—or the specific chapter or scene—you’re writing. Moby is my guy. Or synthwave. Or ambient soundscapes. There are countless available on the Youtube, fit for pretty much any environment.

  • Change your writing space. I like the couch; it’s my go-to. I can sprawl comfortably. The cats are my writing buddies. But sometimes I need to hit up Starbie-Darbies (Starbucks) and get my expensive Kool-Aid fix. I’m in public so I can’t lay down or scratch my balls, which forces my focus and attention to the work.

  • Flower. Not for everyone. But a gummy at night on the couch when I’ve got nowhere to be can unwind the brain a bit. It impairs my short-term memory (which can be a bitch in the moment), but I’ve found it helps me to bend the rules a bit and write things I wouldn’t usually write. I’m usually surprised (in a good way) when I revisit the work the next morning.

  • Watch film/TV or read passages that inspire you. I frequent the opening scene from A Clockwork Orange. It’s just the best.

  • Work on something else. The brain is a muscle and it needs exercise. This is also a way to stay productive and writing when you’re away from your work. It can also help connect some of those missing neurons up in the old noodle.

  • Be okay with sitting on prose you’re not particularly stoked on. This is also difficult. But it will save you time and headache if you just push past what’s ailing you, then revisit and revise later. Prose, much to my chagrin, doesn’t need to be perfect on the first pass.

For the writer, Writer’s Block is inevitable. It’s just a part of the process. If it isn’t for you, you’re probably lying to yourself, or a giraffe. In fact, I’m currently writing this to distract myself from a troublesome spot in my new novel. I’ll revisit it in a sec. Hopefully it works.

Idk, just don’t patronize writers. Writing a good story is tough.

All right. That’s all for now. More later.

-Taylor

TJH -- 08.02.2024

Taylor Hudson