By Siena Sterling
“Writer’s block is a phony, BS excuse for not doing your work.”
Jerry Seinfeld is a genius, but his comment about writer’s block makes him an annoyingly smug genius. Has he really never had those moments when the words or ideas refused to enter his brain? When he sat, desperately wanting to work, but had as much chance of doing that as becoming instantly fluent in a foreign language? If so, he shouldn’t boast about it.
Writer’s block is an apt phrase: that inability to produce is a stumbling block standing in creativity’s path, stopping all progress. You can try to bulldoze your way through it, or you can sidestep it, find clever little ways peculiar to your psyche that allow you to maneuver your way around and leave it in your wake.
In my experience, the bulldozer approach is effective when it comes to starting a book. Later on, though, when I’m staring at walls thinking there’s no way to continue, I need sneakier strategies. It has taken many years of experimenting for me to develop formulas that work for me. Some are fairly obvious; others are quirky and surprising.
1) Cover the page.
I was given this advice by James Fox who wrote White Mischief and co-wrote Life with Keith Richards. He told me it doesn’t matter what you write, just write, especially when you’re beginning a book. The blank page becomes less threatening when it starts to take on words, even if those words are a letter to a friend or a grocery list. When I cover the page, at some point I write a sentence that works for me and once that happens, I can relax – at least a little.
2) Listen to an inspiring song.
Shame, Shame, Shame by Shirley and Company immediately motivates me. I can’t think of another song that is so high-pitched and passionate; a screaming command to get out of myself and do something. In Shame’s case, it’s getting out and dancing, so I change the words. “Shame on you if you can’t write too” becomes my mantra.
3) Write in a different location.
A change of scenery can kick start the brain, even if it’s a small change such as going to a coffee shop or the local library. Traveling to a place further away can help as well. Because I live in England, it’s easier to go to a foreign country where a different culture and a different language make me more aware of my surroundings, especially when I’m on my own. I spend my time observing the scenery and especially the people, noticing mannerisms which can help inform my characters.
4) Leave it alone.
I take a break and forget about writing. The hope is that when I go back to it, I will have refreshed and re-set. The only problem with this is how long a break to take. That varies, but I’ve found I know instinctively when I’m ready to write again.
5) Take a shower/bath.
If I am stuck about where the plot is going, what needs to happen next, I take a bath or shower. I don’t know whether it’s the sound of the running water or what exactly unties the knotted shoelace of my thinking, but some of my best ideas have come to me in a bathtub.
6) Play with children.
Children are naturally creative; they explore everything and the best part is that creativity isn’t work for them – it’s fun. My four young grandchildren make me remember what it’s like to take pleasure in writing, and the joy that comes when you’re unselfconscious and unafraid to take risks.
7) Stop for the day when you know what the next paragraph will be.
When I’m on a roll, I force myself to stop at a point where I can continue the next day without any problem. However, this doesn’t work when I’m stymied, so I can’t use it effectively all the time.
8) Go to a movie and bring one of your characters along with you.
This is one of my surprising discoveries. Early on in my writing, I took the main character of my most recent novel to a film and discussed it with her afterwards, imagining the conversation, how she would react to the film. That gave me unexpected insights into her and made her more human.
9) Change a character’s name.
When I had my worst bout of writer’s block, I ran out of methods to bypass or blast my way through it. Nothing was working. I could have been sent on a private jet to a beach in the Seychelles, taken thousands of baths, played Shame Shame Shame on a continuous loop, and still have been in writer’s paralysis. Re-reading what I’d written was painful. Until it occurred to me that one of my main character’s names was wrong. It didn’t suit her, which disrupted the entire book. As soon as I changed her name, I had a major breakthrough.
10) Watch television.
I usually choose an episode of Frasier, because it’s guaranteed to make me laugh out loud. Laughter is like an injection of vitamin B12, an energy health supplement that actually works. Or I watch Seinfeld, think of Jerry’s disdainful dismissal of my problem, get really angry, and go back to work.