An Anxiety Episode Changed My (Dis)Belief In Writer’s Block ….
By Kathryn Magendie | February 3, 2023 |
During my prolific writing days, and even during my not prolific writing days, when I’d hear the term “writer’s block,” I believed it to be a self-indulgent myth. Either you were writing or you were not. You sit your ass in your chair and you write or you get up from your chair and decide you will not write.
I could give you a lot of reasons, excuses, lamentations for why I haven’t completed my next novel. I bet some of you know a lot of these reasons, excuses, lamentations, too, and likely 89.999% of them are valid. We can talk about how others may say that giving up writing for any length of time is for those who really aren’t dedicated to the craft, but that’s bull-taters. I sacrificed quite a lot for my writing in time, family, social life, etc, so I really don’t want to hear how I am not dedicated to my craft. I’ll guess many of you sacrificed much as well. Life can toss crappy curveballs and we sometimes must make decisions on what we feel is important, and sometimes the writing is not the more important thing: GASP! I know! I never thought I’d say that! Is this the eighth sign of the apocalypse?
Before the multi-year-slump, I could spit out a novel like it was nuttin’—doesn’t mean all of them were publishable but writing the words never was a problem and creating characters I loved wasn’t either. I wrote the first draft to Sweetie in 30 days (a challenge I gave myself) and it’s one of my all-time favorite published novels and loved characters. Writing created an excitement and contentment in me that nothing else could touch.
Never. Ever. Never. Ever. Never. Ever. NEVER EVER did I see a world where I was not writing. But stuff happened and the writing stopped. And stopped for quite some time.
And nowhere in all the time I was not writing did I believe in writer’s block. Nope.
But then I opened a novel I’ve had in my computer files, one that I’ve fiddled around with from time to time, here, there, yonder, skippity do dah day. The novel has good bones. It has interesting characters that excite me. I have no doubt I am a good writer. I have no doubt I can create good characters. I’ve known my “severe limitations” when it comes to plots/outlines, and it never before stopped me from sitting my ass in the chair and writing til my ass was numb.
But there I was scrolling through the novel and liking what I saw. I inserted a little here, moved a page there, renamed two characters who begged to be renamed. I had a little quiver of excitement build and I thought, “I have missed this part of me.” You know, the part where writing was like an important appendage before it’s been cut off and left with some phantom limb feeling…?
And then, out from the cantankerous ether ….
Anyone who has ever had an anxiety attack knows how it can be insidious, sneaky, like a noxious fog rolling in—one minute the sky and trees and birds are clear and then comes the smoky clawed tendrils wrapping around and through and within before they grasp and pinch and squeeze and the beautiful world begins to disappear until there is nothing but dense grey-white and the grey-white soaks into your brain and there is no thinking or creating, there is only a foggy confusion and your eyes feel so very wide as they try to see through a dense fairy-tale forest, you know, the part of the fairy-tale where the character is about to be devoured by the unknown, and everything becomes weirdly scary, shaky, and just wrong.
I stared at my novel and all the words bulged out at me. The characters turned their backs on me. And every bit of joy I’d felt that I was writing again drained from my body and pooled onto the floor. I, much like our unlucky character in the dark-misted forest, had been devoured.
Oh I tell you what! Writer’s Block then felt real! That phrase loomed in the goo of my brain with a sickly green glow.
WTF? I’ve had some anxiety attacks in my lifetime, but never ever while writing. I closed my laptop, picked up my remote, and turned on the television to something funny. Laugh, Kathryn. Goddammit Laugh!
Like fog will do, the grey-white receded, lucky for me rather quickly-ish, but I wasn’t about to invite the anxiety back. Nuh Uh.
The laptop looked sad sitting there, so I took my laptop to my study and left it there.
Yet….
I saved Black Moon Cove to my desktop. The next morning I opened it, just a peek. My gut swirled and twirled, just a bit, but I told myself and I’ll tell you too, “Yes, you are afraid. And it’s okay to be afraid. It’s okay to worry about failure. It sucks to fail but the world still turns, so try again or try something else, or do not. It’s okay to decide you don’t want to publish it at all. It sucks that if the novel is published, it may not sell all that well, but you are not alone in this and that may bring a tidbit of comfort. It’s okay to feel angry. It’s okay to be down right pissed. It’s okay to feel envy over another writer’s success, but don’t let that envy turn sour; envy can be motivating or it can be debilitating: decide. It’s okay to feel grief over losses and missed opportunities. It’s okay to feel exhausted and burned out and wondering if you just do not want this for yourself any longer. But if you don’t write the diggity-ding-dang book you’ll never know how this story turns out—yours and your characters.”
And I will open that novel again. And I’ll hope the nasty mean fog that may come will be a little less dense and disorienting. And I’ll hope tenacity works until writing once again becomes a part of my body—the severed limb will grow back (or it will not … but that’s another essay).
I want to be where the writing is as it used to be—the One Constant that brought joy and sanity to my life. Where writing will once again be what keeps my head clear of clouds instead of the cloud creator. I’m going to open that novel and open that novel and open that novel time after time after time until I am done, even if it takes me fifty-galleven years. Or, I will not. All up to me, right? And if you are feeling what I am feeling, then it’s all up to you, right? We do the best we can in writing, in life. We are writers even if we are not writing. Yes, I said that. Believe what you will, but I am a writer and I always will be. It’s in my marrow. If I never write another book, then that sucks but gosh I have written and written and written and I’m proud of those thousands and thousands of words.
What about you? Do you Believe?
Author, Content Editor at Edge of Arlington, and along with Angie Ledbetter, former Publishing Editor of The Rose & Thorn online journal.
Her short stories, essays, poetry, and photography have been published in print and online publications. Her novels are available in print and ebook. TENDER GRACES, Magendie’s first novel, was an Amazon Kindle Number 1 best-seller.
She lives in the Smoky Mountains in a little log home in the Cove at Killian Knob in Maggie Valley, Western North Carolina with her wonky-toothed little dog named Bear. Trees surround her. The mountains hug around her. Critters love her. Crows follow her around the Cove. Bears stare at her through her window. One day she’ll finish another novel.
Some or all of this is true.
[coffee]
Hey Kat — You damn-well should be proud of your body of work. For what it’s worth, your work has been inspiring me for over a decade now. Not only that, but *you* have been an inspiration, to me and I know to many others, too. If I had to make a list of people who showed me that writing should be easy on the ears, and funny, and conversational, and that if I knew the rules I could break the crap out of them, well–you’d be right up there at the top of that list.
I know this being an inspiration thing is a separate issue to the clouds and the block. I’m just hoping maybe it can offer a breeze that might clear a few clouds now and then. I would say I hope that you’re writing, but that would just be selfish, because I love reading your work. Instead I’ll say that I hope you’re finding peace and joy, and if you’re finding those things in writing once in a while, that’s all the better. Thanks for your honesty, and for your leading the way.
You always know exactly what to say to make me, or anyone, feel special and wonderful. What a privilege to know you (and Mo!).
It’s funny but I saw that ‘will you buy this author a cup of joe’ and I thought ‘oh no! no one is going to buy me a cup of coffee!’ I’ve never done the cup of joe before. Then I thought – well, you have $4! That will buy a nice cup of joe and maybe a scone! LOL
By the way, Vaughn – can I donate whatever is in the “coffee” thing to WU? I’d rather do that. Let me know how.
Oh, yes. I feel like you wrote my story during the past 4 years. That sense of joy shrivelling up at the thought of writing is real. The fear that you’ve said everything you’re going to say and there’s no more is real. The good news is that anxiety and depression are liars. And sometime last year, when I was certain I’d never find my way back to the story that had eluded me, I did. And I finished the draft. And I’m working through revisions.
What I’ve learned is to be gentle with myself. And that is my wish for all of my creative community. {{{{Hugs}}}}}
I often say during anxiety or depression and that in between the two is when my brain is being an asshole – laughing. I am so glad you finished your draft! YES! Made me smile to read that.
There are degrees of “block”, I have found, from avoidance to paralysis. All are degrees of anxiety. Fear. The story itself isn’t afraid of anything, I am, and the biggest fear I have faced is the fear that I’m not worthy. That I don’t own the authority and mandate conferred upon the authors whom I admire.
That’s rubbish, of course. The story doesn’t care about that. It needs me. I’m the only one who can tell it or even thought of it in the first place. It wouldn’t live without me and if not written by me than who? A chat bot? I think not.
And so my job is to get over myself and get on with it. I’ll figured out what’s the tough in the writing itself and get it done. I always have before and I will again today too. And hey, it’s fun. Most fun ever.
Yes, Benjamin! The FUN! Writing can be beautifully fun! When I’d edit someone’s writing, or talk about writing to someone just starting out or beginning a new novel, whatever, I’d always end my note/email/etc with “… and have fun with it!”
We humans often have this ‘thing’ where we absolutely do not like to feel uncomfortable and since anxiety is REALLY uncomfortable, we avoid things, people, places, situations that we are afraid will cause that anxiety, and in doing so, we make our world smaller and smaller. Sometimes just doing it, just facing it, risking that uncomfortable feeling, will disarm it, dislodge it, make it weaker (sometimes) and we can open up our world again. So … yeah. :)
Hi Kathryn, I will always be a writer. I don’t have much published to show for my intense love of writing, but that often doesn’t matter. Right now, there are birds swirling around our bird feeder and it is making me wonder if I should write about that. The world is a curious place…the people, colors and sounds, the sorrows and loves…who wouldn’t want to find a way to express how all of those things touch them. Thanks for your post.
Yes Elizabeth! Exactly. That’s how I love to write – from nature, from curiosity, from the quirks I see in myself and others. That often doesn’t make for great plot lines, but it sure makes me happy!
Thank you for reading. And no, we do not have to be published to validate who we are as writers!
Hi Kathryn, perhaps the book On Writer’s Block by Victoria Nelson might help you. It’s different than most books on writer’s block. It’s an insightful rethinking of the writing process.
Thank you Steve! I will take a look at that book!
What she couldn’t do for herself, she pushed through and did for others. (Typical bestie behavior.) :) I admire you so, and always will . . . and now your honesty has inspired me to FINALLY finish that old ms that’s been riding with me in the back of my vehicle through disasters/catastrophes/life overhauls/empty nest syndrome/reemployment woes/crazy work situation, etc. Oh, and that poetry collection just might get dusted off also. I love you. And should you need confirmation of the “rightness” of your writing, here and on the market, be checking your mailbox for a wee delivery I ordered Monday. Mwahahahahaaaaaaaa
I hope you will dust off that ms and your poetry collection because you have a uniquely beautiful way of seeing the world and people and your writing is REAL, I mean, just REAL – and you notice every little thing, but in a good way that I am slightly envious of in a cool way not in a not cool way – laughing. Now I wonder what will show up in my mailbox? … !
Love you, too, Bestie. I miss our writing conferences, and our writing retreats we had at these little cool locations.
For the record, I have loved every novel you ever wrote. Writers get blocked for many reasons. I have struggled with writer’s block recently, mostly because life has gotten in the way. Every now and then I return to my work-in-progress and I hope you will, too. I have great faith in you. You know you are a great writer. And I sincerely hope you will write again. My only advice is to maybe try something totally different: a new idea, something you’ve never tried before. Good luck!
Well, I adored your novel, CB. I want to read another, please.
Life in the way – oh, boy, do I get that!
*blowing a kiss*
Dear Kat, I usually don’t like shortened forms of names but I love Kat–because I love cats. And like a cat, here you are lamenting yet leaping up and encouraging us to keep on keeping on. Look at you! So graceful! Thank you. I, too, have a story I touch and put away because…fear. I may never publish it. And I’ve told my husband that when I die, he must toss all the unpublished stuff because there’s a reason I did not. I believe I will die pen in hand because I need to write. I’ve not published anything in a long while. Haven’t even submitted anything. Writing for myself to figure things out. Maybe I’ll even look at that 20-yr-old story again…
I go by Kat, Kathryn, and my family often calls me Kathy though I dislike it but they are family (laugh) – and I’ve been called other things too but, well, we’ll not talk about that – haha!
Oh, don’t let him toss those words! Someone – a friend, a family member, someone will want them and to keep them. I would say have him send them to me but that is assuming I would still be here and you not, and, well, dang, that’s kind of weird to think about. lol.
Kathryn, totally enjoyed reading your post. Your anxiety description was awesome. Not that it was awesome to experience that. I’m at the older age (80s) and don’t have the luxury of stop-start, stop-start in writing. Or entertaining writers block, or staring at a blank Word doc. on the computer. A debut book was published in May 2022, and I’m a third into writing the sequel. The deadline is late spring 2023. I’m not in the writing business to make a buck. Once I started writing, it took over, and it has a life of its own. The book characters agree, and push me to get their scenes written. Guess they want to see The End, before…well, you know. I’m actually a very healthy, positive person. And will probably hit the100 mark. Maybe enough time for a few more books!! 📚🎶 Christine
Oh, how exciting Christine! :D I remember when I was writing for those deadlines and the sequels and all of that excitement. How wonderful you are in the throes of that! I love it when characters inspire us to write. Best thing ever, yes?
Christine:
Did you say 80s? As in 80 years? Human years, not dog years? I feel like a youngster in my (almost) 60s. Congrats on your success and best of luck!
Oh, I know this dance. I had to do a Nanowrimo years ago to kill my internal editor when writing a rough draft. It worked.
More recently, I hit the wall after completing the ninth book in a set of closely related series within the span of three years. I couldn’t get my brain to stir. So I poked at some short story ideas, and gave myself some time to just dawdle over a couple of short works. It helped, though I’m not back up to my usual drafting speed. However…giving myself permission to just step away for a couple of months really helped.
That said, I’m still finding other things to work on besides the fantasy series that I really wanted to get done….
Stepping away and writing something else is fun! It can open up new pathways in our brains, even if we never do anything with the ‘new’ stuff and return to our ‘old’ stuff. GOOD LUCK! And as you approach the wall, find a way around it – me too!
So much of this resonates for me, as I’m sure it must for every writer at some point in their journey. <3
… and we must not beat ourselves silly over it, right? right! Because sometimes life has to be dealt with in Real Life and not in the surreal life. That makes sense in my head but not sure it came out right … dang!
Kathryn:
I find my anxiety rising as my word count drops. I have to put down something, make some progress, even if I wind up pitching the whole mess. Writing is my antidote to the paralysis and procrastination. As Natalie Goldman wrote: “In the center of chaos, make one definite act. Just write.”
Just how I used to think. I wonder: what happened? I’ve pondered and thought and thought and pondered and paced and angst’d – how, I wonder(ed), did something that was such the CENTER of me, the very Love of My Life as writing was, how how how did I lose that drive.
But, it will be back. I know it. It’ll be the epic love story of the ages. One day I’ll be gazing out to the horizon, over the distant mountain, and the music will swell as I slowly turn from the window, away from the pane, and with my heart squeezing from the happiness and joy of it all, because I will have discovered my love was right there all along, I will sit on my ass and write… laughing.