Writer’s Block Revealed

In a recent essay on Writers Block and other Urban Legends (http://dosomedamage.blogspot.com/2009/08/writers-block-and-other-urban-legends.html#comments), Jay Stringer defines (and dismisses) the affliction that he says is erroneously labeled as writer’s block. At first, having suffered painfully from this alleged ‘affliction,’ I read his piece with a certain amount of resentment. But then he wrote this:

“The second kind occurs when there’s a deadline looming and the words won’t come, or chapter thirteen just doesn’t want to start. Douglas Adams called it “staring at the page until your forehead bleeds.””

Here’s where Jay really gets to the heart of the matter: “This isn’t writer’s block,” he says, “this is writing.”

I agree. Taking a walk, making love, cooking, brushing your hair – all these things are ‘writing.’ That’s what makes the writing process so mysterious.

I realized that all these years with two growing children, a full time job, a house to take care of, a husband to relationship with (is that a verb yet?), meant not that I didn’t have time to sit down and write a page (any one can make time to do whatever they want) but that I didn’t have time to ‘not write.’ That’s the hidden part of the process.

So what happened to me is that I got depressed. Looking back, I know it was a combination of things, but I think the major reason was the opposite of writer’s block. I was writing relentlessly, whenever I could, late at night, weekends, angrily, determinedly, frantically. But I wasn’t doing enough of the ‘unwriting’ part – looking out of the window, listening to dialogue, enjoying a cup of tea, reading inspiring books … all the daily practices that go into the writing process.

Since I returned from two years in Hawaii where I re-discovered peacefulness and pleasure in life, I’ve gone at the whole thing a different way. I decided to be more affectionate towards my writing, instead of beating my head against it and trying to get it to knuckle down and do what I tell it to.

I give thanks to Julia Cameron for her ‘morning pages’ – there’s an exercise to keep the juices flowing without any angst attached. Not everything one writes has to be extraordinary. Not only that, but every morning, during that early wedge of hypnopompia, I write a poem. Can you imagine? Sure, some are lemons – but not all. (I don’t take credit for them, since I’m half asleep when I write them.)

Then there are the three daily happinesses, which are another endeavor to get me to lighten up about the seriousness of the writing life and just let it flow.