It was junior high art class. Back in 1970-something. The teacher assigned us a still life.
I sat there in class, No. 2 pencil in hand, staring at a blank sheet of paper, wondering what I would draw. I went home and sat there. No. 2 pencil in hand. Staring at a blank sheet of paper. Wondering what I would draw.
I stared so long that I became a still life.
All the while, though, I was surrounded by life so still, all begging to be seen and etched onto barren paper. Ideas littered the classroom and the hallways, my walk home among the houses and trees and cars, at home with our furniture and fireplace and knick-knacks full of character and life and stories to tell, and even in the kitchen with that old table and tattered chairs my family sat at every meal for fifteen years.
But no ideas came to me.
I had artist’s block.
It was horrible. I was a good student and liked my good grades. But I couldn’t draw. I wasn’t an artist. Even my stick figures are indiscernible from a pile of broken pretzels.
The pretty pictures in my head just won’t flow to my fingers. Something goes catawampus along the way.
It’s not a pretty picture.
Writer’s bombardment
I am a writer, though.
Words and characters and dialogue and scenes flow out of me. It’s like a dam broke inside my head, no longer able to hold back all of the Pacific Ocean of creativity.
I have never experienced writer’s block, and I don’t feel that any serious writer should experience it either.
I just don’t believe it’s real.
But writer’s bombardment, that’s something I can believe in.
Writer’s bombardment is the problem of having too many ideas—too many stories and characters and conflict that it’s difficult to focus on one project.
This should be every writer’s problem.
Overcoming writer’s bombardment – Strategy 1
I have two strategies for overcoming writer’s bombardment.
The first is old-fashioned goal setting.
I don’t like disappointing myself, so this strategy works really well for me.
I set a major goal—say the first draft of a manuscript, or a short story, or a set number of blogs.
And then I break that goal into manageable, achievable chunks and complete the first small chunk—the first draft of chapter one (I’m a pantser), the first few paragraphs of the short story, the first blog of ten.
If needed, I will up the pressure on myself by telling someone that I will complete the first chunk by a particular date.
When I was writing my first book, Haunting the CEO, I posted on LinkedIn a couple times that I was in a coffee shop working on my upcoming book.
Nobody even knew that I could write, let alone that I was working on an actual book (with words no less!).
After those posts, people began to ask me when the book would be ready so they could read it.
That was serious pressure to not fail. And it worked!
Overcoming writer’s bombardment – Strategy 2
About four years into writing my second book, Unselling, I had written 30,000 words. But it was just a pile of nothing. A complete mess. No structure. No point. No sense of purpose.
I was stuck and frustrated and eventually admitted to myself that I needed help.
That’s when I started seeking a writing coach. And not just a someone who could coach me as a writer, but a butt-kicker. Someone who could also hold me accountable for completing the manuscript. (And not fracture my fragile ego along the way)
Enter Sam Severn. Sam was a godsend. He teased out a structure for the manuscript and pushed me ever forward, in his all-too-kind manner.
It worked so well that I hired him to help me complete my third book and first novel, Let Go the Reins. At the time, I had 40,000 words—actually a decent start and story. Sam cheered me on and kicked my butt for the next few months. And out came an 88,000 word novel.
Sometimes we just need a butt-kicker. And if they also happen to be a talented writing coach and developmental editor as well, then that’s just icing on the cake.
Overcoming writer’s block
If you do have that dastardly condition known as writer’s block, here’s how to cure it once and for all.
Write.
Yep, that’s it. You’re a writer, so write.
Get your laptop out, or iPad, or journal, or pen, or crayons. Whatever your weapon of choice might be.
Go into your favorite writing space—favorite room or coffee shop or park or beach. Turn on music that speaks to you and gets your creative juices flowing. Or turn off any music playing so you can focus.
Just get comfortable.
Set a timer for fifteen minutes.
Now, start writing. Whatever enters your head write it down.
Write for fifteen minutes straight.
Don’t think. Don’t edit. Don’t question. Don’t doubt. Don’t stop.
Just write. For fifteen minutes.
Try it. I dare you. It might just change your writing life.
Because you’re a writer
This antidote to writer’s block works when you want to start a new project but find yourself blocked. Or when you are in the middle of a project and find yourself blocked. Or when you’ve written your hero into a corner and find yourself stuck from moving the story forward.
Do this just once and you will understand why writer’s block isn’t real.
That it’s a fraud.
It’s a lie we tell ourselves because we’re scared that we’re not good enough.
Maybe you’re not good enough. Yet. But you will be the more you write.
Because you’re a writer.
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