Writer’s Block: Real or Make Believe?
By Sarah Callender | June 8, 2016 |

Photo compliments of Flickr’s Mickey Aldridge
Every Friday I and a few others meet with our pastor to help him brainstorm ideas and applications for his Sunday sermons. He shares the verses that will anchor the sermon; we offer ideas about our interpretation of the passage and brainstorm ways he might make these verses relevant to congregants.
This pastor is so smart and funny, so humble and funny. And funny! Plus he was an English major. I have a wee pastor crush. But each week he feels blocked and stuck and ill-equipped to put so many ideas into a twenty-four-minute sermon. He asked me a few months back about writer’s block.
“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t believe in it. I think it’s just an excuse people use when writing gets hard.”
Later, thinking about my quick dismissal, I realized I was full of hooey. Writer’s block terrifies me, and I don’t want to admit that I have experienced it. But because scary things often lose their power when we discuss and deconstruct them, I’d like to chat about what writer’s block is and from whence it often comes.
Psychologists use the term “fixation” to describe what happens during writer’s block. Essentially we become stuck in a development phase. We cycle, and we cannot break free from the mindset or thought pattern. That sounds about right. When I am blocked, I feel dull and unfunny. I cannot unstick myself. I cannot create. Unfortunately, the ability to create might be the most fundamental element of writing fiction.
So let’s talk about what happens in the creative process. In the 1950s, creativity researcher J.P. Guilford coined the terms “divergent thinking” and “convergent thinking” as the two main elements in the creative process. First there’s the brainstorming (the divergent thinking phase) where the “there are no bad ideas” ideas are dumped onto the playing field. Next comes the convergent thinking phase during which we consider all the brainstormed ideas, gather ideas that feel sticky and meaty, and see how we might arrange and organize those best ideas into something that can build a story.
But we may be blocked by too few or too many ideas.
When I get antsy and jump too quickly from divergent to convergent thinking, when I have not generated enough wild ideas before sitting down to write, it’s very possible that there will be no spark on the page, no evidence that I have any imagination at all. It’s as if I am trapped inside an imaginary box like some white-faced, beret-topped mime, unable to find a way out of the box. I can only stare longingly at the wacky and wonderful ideas that sit on the sidewalk outside the four walls, while inside the four walls, I have only the elements of a Dick and Jane primer. Instead of returning to the drawing board, I stop miming writing.
Ironically, having an overabundance of ideas can be equally paralyzing. It’s like the cereal aisle at Safeway. My kids have requested granola, but which granola? WHICH GRANOLA WILL MY CHILDREN EAT?
Forty-seven granola options is ridiculous, but it’s more than okay when there are forty-seven different directions our story can take. An abundance of directions means we have done due diligence in the divergent phase. We must learn to be comfortable with abundance. We must trust that the story is there in front of us, waiting to be shaped and moved from butcher paper to our computer screens. We and the story will be okay.
We also may be blocked by fear.
Fear that we won’t ever arrive at the The End of our story. Fear of rejection. Fear of Criticism. Failure. Others’ opinions.
Fear paralyzes us so we are fixed on ourselves rather than on the story. It’s good to remember, however, that more fear simply means we are doing more meaningful work. Yet the more fear we have, the more Resistance we feel, Steven Pressfield explains in The War of Art. Resistance is the killjoy of any creative act. Resistance is a huge jerk. Yet, Pressfield states,
Resistance has no strength of its own. Every ounce of juice it possesses comes from us. We feed it with power by our fear of it. Master that fear and we conquer Resistance.
Boom. Yes. Let’s do that. We cannot allow fear to keep us inside our imaginary mime boxes.
Or, we may be blocked when we are trying too hard.
My first two books have not sold yet, and this is the recurring feedback from editors: Who’s the audience?
After that feedback, I am determined to write a novel that is firmly planted in a single genre for a single audience. But I am having a heck of a time, partly because I am focusing too much on audience and too little on storytelling. Just this past Friday, my agent called after reading the first 130 pages of the manuscript. “It’s just not resonating with me like your first two did,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
She was also so right. The juh nuh say quah she found in the first two books had gone AWOL in this current project. When we try too hard to write a certain kind of book or target a certain audience or do something experimental because it feels cool to be experimental, we can get stuck. We should never write to please or impress others. We should write out of respect for the story.
But is writer’s block just a romantic excuse?
Maybe. Psychologist Steven Pritzker, PhD, believes writer’s block is only an “artificial construct that basically justifies a discipline problem. A commitment to a regular work schedule will help you overcome barriers like perfectionism, procrastination and unrealistic expectations.”
While I don’t like to admit that writer’s block happens because I am undisciplined, it does make sense.
When I was an English teacher, I taught even when I wasn’t feeling at all inspired. My firefighting friend, Pete, puts out fires even when his muses aren’t sliding down the fire pole alongside him. Big Chuck, our mechanic, doesn’t let one failed chassis overhaul stop him from attempting another. (Chassis overhaul?) But for some reason writers can woefully claim writer’s block then shut down their laptops. It seems odd. It seems like something a diva does.
Maybe Dr. Pritzker is right: if we commit ourselves to a regular work schedule—no matter how we are feeling about our talent, creativity and spark, we can ignore our internal editor that yells loud and unhelpful feedback. Maybe. Let’s try it and report back to one another.
(Next month, we’ll talk about what we can do to block the block.)
Your turn, dear readers: What does your writer’s block feel like? Do you have particular triggers that inspire a state of writer’s block? Do you believe writer’s block is an artificial construct and a discipline issue? Mimes: cool or creepy?
Photo compliments of Flickr’s darkday.
It’s real, although sometimes it’s not a block but burnout.
Mine is usually stress related, and can be fixed simply by dropping the current writing activity, doing something else to distract myself, and then returning to writing with a different perspective.
Other times the block just means the story isn’t gonna work.
Yes! And can you always tell the difference (between whether you need a break or whether it’s just not going to work)? Sometimes it’s hard for me to tell . . .
I’m so glad you mentioned the importance of taking a break, Nate. I bet you have good life balance. I, on the other hand, am horrible at balance. Plus sometimes, especially when the going is rough, I worry that if I take time away, I won’t ever return to it. Silly, I know. I am a silly woman.
I will take a page out of the Book of Nate. :)
I writer’s block is an excuse for some, and is real for others. For me, when things are not going well, I attribute it to the project I’m working on, or my physical or mental state at the time, but not to writer’s block. I’ve sat at my computer and had frustrating days (and days) where I maybe get a couple of paragraphs or pages of crap, but I generally* find the antidote is to power through and keep writing. It’s a little like getting rusty, stinky water out of a faucet–let it run a little, and the crap clears up.
*generally. I know myself well enough right now that I also know there are some days where it’s useless to pound my head against the wall. Everyone needs a break once in a while.
Yes, you and Nate are right on the money. I do think it takes knowing oneself, Jeffo.
I do love the rusty tap water image. I will happily think of that (and keep the faucet turned on, the next time the water doesn’t taste as clean as it should.
Thank you for chiming in!
I’ve never experienced writer’s block, thankfully. But I did hear Dorothy Allison speak about it. She had a deadline for a novel and yet she couldn’t write. It was painful experience for her and she spoke about it in metaphors. Through her images, I felt her pain. Fortunately for all of us, she is writing again and finished that novel. I think it does exist and can be experienced differently in each writer.
Hi, Frances. I almost mentioned the Dorothy Allison example in this post!
I heard her speak at a writer’s conference, and I think (if I remember correctly) that she was blocked for two years! Two YEARS! I was a newer writer, and I remember her pain as she spoke about that period. It scared the heck out of me.
But look at her go! She’s one tough lady. I love her story of hope and determination. Thank you for weaving it in to the conversation!
47 granola choices? What a super-abundant world in which we live.
I have experienced block. It was exactly that: fixation. It wasn’t so much a wall as a loop which carried me around and around to the same place. The solution was to break the pattern, try something altogether different.
The greater problem, I find, are passages or pages that are flat, uninspired, wordy, just filling space. The solution usually is to weed out the words and find out what I’m really trying to plant.
Get simple. Get clear. Get to the heart of it.
I’m developing a new story, my next project, and finding that it’s not yet gaining traction. I see now that I simply haven’t spent enough time in the divergent phase. Got to throw down more ideas.
That feels right. And helpful. Excellent post, Sarah. And what flavor granola *do* your kids eat? For me, easy choice. Mine go for the ones with the most sugar.
Ha! Yes, sugar for sure. In the cereal aisle, I always experience a bit of horror, partly because of the stress of choice, partly because I wonder what other countries would think about such redundancy and abundance. Abundancy and redundancy.
Oh, those flat pages. After my agent gave me that feedback, I did exactly what you said (with the loyal presence of my writing partners): keep it simple and straightforward. Too often I try to do too much and get all fancy-pants. The truth is, my brain can (at this point at least) only write a simple, straightforward, heart-of-the-matter story. And that’s not a bad thing.
Happy writing and happy cereal-selecting. My kids will love one kind of cereal for two-three days and then decide they hate it. That, too, breaks my heart. We don’t know how good we have it.
Thanks, kind sir, for your great addition to the conversation.
Writer’s block is a good thing. For me, at least. The times I’ve experienced it were when I was going in a wrong direction with the story or a character, etc. I needed to step back, take a break, and let my subconscious (or whoever that little helper is) figure it out and let me know.
Mimes — cool AND creepy.
I agree about the mimes, Carmel. The narrator of my first novel is a child and she considers herself a mime artist. I had to do a LOT of research on mimes. It’s an interesting art for sure! :)
I love that your writer’s block is a warning device. That’s fabulous! Perhaps it’s not the enemy after all. Rather it’s a guardian angel. Much less scary when I think of it that way. Thank you for the change in perspective!
Happy day to you, Ms. Carmel.
How interesting about your child narrator! I love your writing and can’t wait to see you published. Sure you don’t want to self-publish so we can all enjoy your work? ;)
Yes to all of this…I’m very good at trying too hard, and fear only encourages that resistance. These days I try to think of it as getting stuck (now what?) versus being blocked; a semantic difference, but it helps the fixation. Really, though, it’s all spinning wheels and trying to get traction.
Thanks for the divergent/convergent model, though! It provided a nice a-ha here, as I think I often try to move on from divergent thinking before I’ve really explored the options. Brainstorming more than two options…I could work on that habit, no matter what the project is. In fact, I’m going to go do a bit of brainstorming now before I head to my weekly yoga class (which will get me out of my head for a while, always helpful).
Yes, Alisha. Apparently we tend toward one or the other–convergent or divergent thinking. At least, one tends to come more naturally or feel like it’s more fun. But both are essential in the process. It was a good thing for me to learn too. Very metacognitive!
I hope your yoga class was restorative. I went to a yoga class last week and we were pack in so tight that the woman on my left kept hitting me. That was not an “get out of my head” session at all. Plus, it was hot yoga so there was so much sweatiness. Lesson learned.
Thank you for your comment!
For some writers block may be hooey but for me its real. While any of us can be undisciplined at some point, I am overall a well disciplined person.
I get writers block due to fear, but my #1 culprit is an overabundance of ideas. My head is always full of a bunch of different directions I can go. Someone recently suggested to me that maybe I don’t know my characters well enough. That could account for some of it. But then by necessity, I’m forced to write seat of the pants–so I have to develop my characters as I go along.
Don’t know what the right answer is, but it’s definitely real. You just have to keep plowing on. And giving yourself permission to write a crummy first draft is a big part of that.
Yes, Brenda! The good old crummy first draft. That is so liberating; it’s almost as if the first draft MUST be a pile of dung. I tell myself that often.
So much of your comment resonated with me–the overabundance of ideas and directions. I find that it means I generated loads of words and pages that I will never use. I fancy myself an efficient person, but when it comes to fiction, I am the opposite.
Thanks for the empathy!
I think all those things you listed are letigimate reasons for a writer to feel unable to continue working. An like you suggested, the key to getting past the block is identifying which one is your obstacle then defining your method of overcoming it.
I procrastinated a lot recently. After a flow that put words on the page daily, I reached the scary part of the draft. Literally. The last piece I’d worked on left my characters poised to enter the dark part of the forest.
And I just didn’t want to go there. I was terrified to enter the dark part of my brain, even though I know that is where all the good stuff is. And by good stuff I mean all the bad stuff that you hide in the back, the stuff that petrifies your subconscious but makes for a damn good story.
So I worked on my plot grid. I did plant research. I tinkered with a drawing that will eventually be a map included in the book. I also blew bubbles with the kids, watched a few movies and chewed on my nails.
But now, I’m back. Not because I’m not scared, but because, exasperated, I finally asked myself,
“What scares you most, Celeste?”
“Not finishing.”
It shocked me but also pleased me to know that not writing would bother me more than the darkness.
So I take those words with me into the forest. When it gets hard, when I want to curl up in a ball and cover my eyes instead of writing what’s next, I remind myself that while this feels scary, not getting through to the end would be the true terror for me.
This time, my obstacle was fear. My method for getting past it was identifying it as a lesser fear and giving myself a mantra.
As for the the mimes, I thought they were creepy until I watched The Angry Birds Movie and now any time I think of mimes the only thing that comes to mind is that bird saying, “Oh my gawwwd.”
And last thing, if your pastor really feels strongly about all the great stuff he’s cutting out of his 24 minute sermon, has he ever considered creating a series? One of my pastors often picks a theme for the month and its a great way to look forward to next Sunday’s lesson and also remember what came before because it all ties together.
Anyway, great post today!
This was such a beautiful post, Celeste. Thank you. I think it does take a tremendous amount of courage (and bubbles-blowing) to be a writer.
I am grateful you posted and added this to today’s conversation. I’d reckon that 99% of WU’ers have been here before. Such great inspiration.
And keep going! Sounds like you have made it through this slice of darkness. :)
The only time I get blocked is because I know I have very little time to write.
You’d think that would be an incentive to use the time well, wouldn’t you?
But for me it doesn’t work that way because I have a very slow brain, and it’s going to take a lot of time to load everything I need into my head to write something on the current scene. It doesn’t help that I have somehow set myself a very complicated story, with pieces going in all directions which have to be herded back to the main corral and branded.
So, if I know I won’t be able to stick at it because life has already warned me I will be interrupted, I can’t get started.
The minute I don’t have that limitation, everything starts behaving.
“The only time I get blocked is because I know I have very little time to write.”
Yes, this is another big contributor. I’m as big a fan as anybody of writing in whatever snatches of time you can, but when most of your writing life exists like this–to the point of not even having much time to think and plan and plot, it contributes to that paralyzing writers block.
Yes, Alisha! I know exactly what you mean. So much pressure, and I crack and crumble under pressure. Just freeze right up.
I will say that I am getting better about jumping right in when I have a few free minutes, but then I get on a roll and someone or something interrupts me and I feel a little resentful. I feel very bad about that. I am. however, sure that at least a handful of WU’ers can relate!
In my WIP for a month I have been in a deep writer’s block. I’ve written notes, written almost two chapters, tucked notes into the second chapter, written extensive research notes (and keep them attached to the WIP), and I sit at the computer all morning. I change a word here, a phrase there, switch the order of a sentence, then switch it back. I think it was Oscar Wilde who said that he “inserted a comma in the morning and took it out in the afternoon”.
That’s me today. I’ve never had any problem getting the first draft down from start to finish. I love my characters, I’m immersed in their situation. I’m fascinated by the historical time and locale. I’m an old hand, so I don’t lack experience. I don’t lack discipline, I put in my hours at the office.
And yes, I’ve gone for long walks with the dogs, taken a shower, changed the subject, bought a new stove….. all the things we do to free up our subconscious writer’s writing brain.
Why have I been blocked for a month at 6101 words?
Do we just go stale?
Oh, this is such a tough place to be. I know for sure that writers do not go stale. I wish I had some kind of good advice or magic pill that would give you a boost.
One of my writing partners (she published a memoir in 2008 so she’s a pro) got stuck while writing a novel. It was one that she really felt she had to write, but it just wouldn’t come. She put it aside and is now rocking and rolling on another memoir project. I share this because I wonder if some book projects simply don’t work because there is a timing issue. Maybe you need more time for the story or the characters or your curiosity to percolate?
Most of all, I’m so sorry for the stuck feeling. Few things are more frustrating.
Please keep us posted!
I moved (literally) my computer to another room. It acted like a fresh start. Ann
Yes, Ann. Thanks for the reminder about the power of a change of scenery. I don’t know what it can be so helpful, but it certainly can do the trick. Thank you for sharing!
I get the too many ideas, not any “good ideas,” and the pure “fear” factor, but the only thing that breaks it is to sit down and just write something – even on social media. I had a huge block one day, wrote one sentence on facebook, and then rushed over to my word document and wrote 500 words. It’s possible to break writer’s block with just one sentence.
I tend to agree with your psychologist. I hope.
I love this: It’s possible to break writer’s block with just one sentence.
It reminds me of karate where a soft hand can break bricks. Never underestimate the power of a single sentence. I am SO glad you shared that today. And good for you for pressing on!
Sarah, first the important question: mimes, creepola. Except when they are capable of giving you a good chassis overhaul.
I had some blockage (ugh, what could that look like?) when I started to work on the final chapter to my WIP. Some of the anxiety of that was directly in my face: it’s the last chapter—now I’ll have to assess the whole book, and what if it is the stuff of dung beetle’s delight?
So I fretted and pressed, and pressed my frets, but then, after a sleep, a clear structure for the chapter, that works well with the book’s rhythm and arc, came to me. Of course, I’ve only just begun to write, but the window on the writing is now clear and clean. Obviously, the key to fixing writer’s block is to fret a lot. And then not. That will be fifty dollars, please.
I will send you your session fee via PayPal, Tom. Thank you.
What does blockage look like? I’ll just say that I had a two constipation jokes in a previous draft. You and I might be cut from the same diaper cloth.
You mentioned that the idea just came to you. Isn’t that the weirdest and most amazing thing? Where the heck do those ideas come from? Are they already in us and we just have to chip away at the marble, or do we really locate them from nowhere. It’s so wonderfully mysterious.
If you can answer those questions, I will pay you an additional $17.50, with the hope that you can use it to buy me a drink or a coffee in Salem. ;)
Anything that you experience is real. The question is what is causing the block and what can stop it.
The problem is, based on my experience and what I have seen and read about others experiencing writers block, the causes can be different with each person and even with each case of blocking.
In my case, the two top causes seem to be:
Fear and anxiety: I am sometimes paralyzed with unrealistic dread about doing something I know I want to do. I have a talent for sabotaging my own success.
Intrinsic Laziness: I am a person who has a significant capacity for leisure, and my default setting is often coma. It can take a lot of inner push to get me into a state where writing is possible.
Sarah, such a wise article. I have no answers but this is the state I’m in sometimes. I’ve not written because there were too many interruptions, because somebody may interrupt me, because I’m anxious it’s all crap, because a deadline is looming and I really want to work on something else, and I really want to write it, but because it’s going to take too long, want to have written it already, and shouldn’t I clean the attic?
Some of these are legit reasons and some of these are excuses. I’m not proud that I make them.
I always feel better when I write, when I examine, so I don’t know why I do the other things that aren’t as important. Really, one day a hurricane will come and who’ll care about the stuff in the attic? I think it’s fear, lack of trust … I have now decided that procrastination is a sin. Maybe that will get me to the confessional and kick-start the writing.
Thank you for your timely post, Sarah.
My husband took last week off. Instead of writing I spent the day with him. Then, I began to worry that I wasn’t writing because I couldn’t write. The magic was gone. Forever. Thankfully, very early Wednesday morning the magic returned.
My writer’s block feels like I’m drowning.
If I stick to my schedule, I seldom suffer from it.