I've been thinking recently about the phenomenon of "writer's block," and how I don't think "writer's block" need exist for anyone. Sure, we all feel blocked from time to time--the words don't flow, they sputter, feel clunky, and leave a mess on our page. But I don't think any of us is actually ever "blocked" or unable to write at all.
If we're feeling blocked, we just need to change the assignment. Instead of needing to write something brilliant and beautiful straight out of the gate, our goal can be to write 200 words on some aspect of our topic. As Anne Lamott advises, we need to be willing to write badly. Because I think the phenomenon of feeling blocked is more about wanting to be able to write well, to write smoothly, to have it all come out sounding very coherent and logical at first pass--and when *that* can't happen (because of course it can't!), we think negative thoughts like "I'm no good at this," and our pen seizes up entirely. It's sort of like our inner self is having a tantrum--"If I can't do this perfectly, then I won't do it at all!" We don't like wading through the uncertainty of the draft phase, we don't like the messiness. And why would we? It's uncomfortable! We don't know where this is going, or if it will turn out any good. We worry we'll end up feeling like we've wasted our time.
But I have found (over time and lots of trial and error--lots and lots of "not writing" and wishing for a magical solution, or waiting to feel inspired with a fully-formed idea that breaks through my block) that when it comes to writing, there is no such thing as wasted time. It's all about the process--building a writing practice, that is. And very little about the product--the finished draft that we show to everyone. So, no time is wasted, as it's all ground for us to figure out our ideas. Maybe we've gotten the notion that all writing should be beautiful and brilliant because that's all we read of others' work--their finished drafts.
In order to write, especially a longer-length project like a dissertation or a book, we need to access some inner part of ourselves that believes in the work, that can hold space for it, in its yet unfinished form. We need to let that higher part of ourselves light a candle and then protect the flame, while our regular, everyday selves get down to business and do the work.
I also have a few practical strategies in mind:
First, if you're having trouble writing, lower your standards. Make the goal just about getting words on the page, they don't have to be words that sound any good. You can worry about the quality later. For now, you're just building fluency, you're building comfort with the process of writing.
Second, write the way that you talk. Write as if you were having a conversation with someone about your topic. You can even pretend the writing IS an email, or a conversation that's taking place in your head--address the person directly in your writing and take those pieces out later when you're editing.
It seems counterintuitive, but I am willing to bet that, if you write the way that you talk, your writing will actually be stronger for it. It will be more direct, your points will be clearer, your voice will be present, and the writing will feel more alive. One of my biggest pet peeves as a professor was reading through drafts that I could barely make sense of because the student, in an effort to sound smart, had dressed up their language.
And, last, if you really can't write, set a timer for 20 minutes and read something that is related to your topic. When the timer goes off, write about what you just read. A few days of doing this is sure to generate some new ideas, some usable material. But, perhaps most importantly of all, it keeps you writing, which means you're winning the battle.
Happy writing!
Image by Dan Cristian Paduret via Unsplash