On Monday, I had a procedure where I was supposed to take it easy afterward. My husband expressed concern that I might be restless and I said, no worries, I’ll just play Endless Dungeon (which I’ve been super into lately). But before I play that, I need to write the next scene of Body Swappers.
I did not do this. I did open my outline. However, the story had pulled a little bit away from the original plot, so the next scene was “some sort of connective tissue.” I let myself be scared off by the amount of work there was to be done, and played my game without having done any of it.
On Tuesday, I scolded myself, and opened up my notebook. The blank page stared back at me, and I shrank from it. Maybe a drink of water, then I’ll be ready. No such luck. Maybe if I think through the other character’s expectations and feelings? I jotted two lines down about what the other character thought and felt, then skipped down a few lines and wrote the first three lines of the scene. Then I kept staring at the page, wondering how to continue, until I gave up and took a nap.
On Wednesday during my lunch break, I decided I really needed to bang it out. Deadline day was tomorrow. I didn’t have my notebook with me, but I rewrote basically what I’d already written from memory. Then I stared at the screen.
What even is the point of this scene? I asked myself. How do I make it interesting? What purpose can it serve? Thinking back on this, that’s probably part of what constipated my writing efforts. Those questions can be left for the editing stage.
Today I have been weepy and lethargic all day. Every time I’ve turned my thoughts toward being productive in any way, including writing that next scene, I’ve thought “I don’t want to.” All I’ve wanted to do is play a game or watch a show. I just want to loaf. Knowing how I’ve been in the past, I know that if I indulged myself in only loafing, I may go on doing that for days. I have to at least write my post, I told myself. I can loaf after that, but I need to do at least that much.
So I stared at my notebook some more, and thought I don’t know how to write and I’m not good at this.
It’s not true. I know deep down it’s not true. I’ve hit a block right now, but that’s a temporary thing. I’ll get back in the swing of it. Also, this kind of stuff is why I’m grateful I gave myself a break and did not join NaNoWriMo. The pressure of writing 1,667 words a day? That’s not for me.
I still owed you all a post, so I wrote this. A glimpse into my writing life, when I’m at a low point. It’s only now as I write this that I’m remembering that I’ve developed tools to deal with writer’s block that I haven’t used yet. Tools like, if I’m having trouble describing the scene, sketch it first. Skip to the next scene that’s most exciting, and come back to this one after the juices are flowing. Try writing a scene of backstory from a different character’s perspective.
But the most important thing, which I clearly haven’t done the best with, is be kind to yourself. That lesson I need to relearn over and over again.
Have you ever faced writer’s block? Have you developed any tools to help deal with it?
I feel this.
Having a writer's drought sucks.
Imagine one that lasts for 20 years, then all at once, it opens up and rains like a flood.
The only advice I can give is to relax and don't force it. When it's time, the skies will open up, and a deluge will try to drown you.