Writer’s Block Pt. 2: 7 Ways to Overcome It

Plus, a Little Bonus Tip at the End ;)

Writer’s Block, the infamous thing that many argue exists or doesn’t exist that keeps us from putting the ink on paper. It lives in your muscles — paralyzes you when you need it least. Facetious semantics aside, we defined and discussed the causes of writer’s block in part one. In part two, we’re talking about seven ways to overcome it — at least how I do.

Disclaimer: I’ll be touching on the subjects of demoralization, self-doubt, and a lack of motivation quite a bit. If these are the ways your “writer’s block” manifests, consider looking into professional mental help. These things can be a sign of depression and, left untreated, can be deadly. I am not a medical professional. The points mentioned hereto are my views only.

1. Jumping Ahead

If you find yourself caught on one paragraph, scene, or chapter, it’s okay to write something else. You’re meant to be a seamstress in editing, so your piece can arrive to that phase in any form and any order. I frequently do this. I predominantly write personal narratives that usually have a theme that will (hopefully) leave the reader with a tinge of optimism at the end. When I’m trudging through a thicker piece, get caught on an insignificant part, and start beating myself up, I move on. I like to go write the ending at that point because the excitement of seeing how it ends carries me through the thicket.

I understand that this may be more challenging with fiction, though the rule applies the same. Get stuck on a character’s development? Try your hand at a different one. The story will eventually come together all the same.

2. Take a Break

This is hard for all of us. We prescribe ourselves arbitrary deadlines, or in some cases real ones, and the pressure of accomplishment alone can block our creativity. If you’re able, take a small break. Get out and exercise, make a nice meal, spend time with someone. Just spend a few hours away from it, trying your hardest not to think about your writing.

There are two modes of cognition in our brain: focused and diffuse. Focused mode is that intentional, “I must form a solution,” mindset we bring to the paper. You’re intentionally writing things as they appear linearly in your mind. Diffuse thinking, the mode that will become your best friend during these breaks, is when your brain is forming connections randomly and unintentionally. It’s the reason in math you can skip a problem, do another, and suddenly the last one clicks. It’s why you can recall random bits of information decades after you learn it — your brain is making random connections.

The key physical difference is that focused thinking occurs in a zone of your brain. Emotional thoughts happen in subcortices of our frontal lobe. If you were focusing on doing a backflip, the motor cortex in your temporal lobe would be going wild. Diffuse thinking draws on all your brain power. Once again, it’s random.

After a few hours you may have made some important connections that will springboard you through the next section of your writing.

3. Take a Longer Break

We can’t rely on our brain being cooperative all the time. You literally are your worst enemy. You have many defense mechanisms you’re unaware of, and often what we consciously wish to do is intercepted by our subconscious fears and desires. If a short break just isn’t doing it for you, take a longer break. Not one day. Not two, three or four. Try a full week, at first. The emotional attachment we form to our writing can be strong, even when it’s stressing you out. A week, even four or six would be better, will detach you from that emotional connection and allow you to view yourself impartially. Only then may you see where you need to go with it.

4. Pitch Your Idea

I initially titled this section Get Early Feedback, but it’s imperative that you don’t share your piece with anyone. I am incredibly defensive of my drafts, and I won’t share a piece for the first time until I’m on my third, fourth, even fifth iteration (I talk all about that in this ultimate editing guide…).

Find a friend, someone you trust with your life, and pitch them the idea of your piece. Aside from your own self-preservation, you shouldn’t give them a draft because they don’t need homework. You may not value their editing abilities, either. Pitch your idea as simply as you can and see what they say. If they think it’s cool, great! They may even provide examples of things they hope would happen that can spur a newfound inspiration.

5. Read!

I mention this in just about every piece I write. If you aren’t reading, you’re doing yourself, and your work, a disservice. Reading, if not for anything else, is a great mental exercise. You can choose to read in your genre for inspiration, or outside of your genre. You’d be surprised how sentences in a nonfiction book could inspire your fiction or vice versa. Afterall, nothing is crazier than reality, right?

I’ll throw in two book recommendations, here. If you’re a lover of fantasy/fiction and have somehow avoided Neil Gaiman’s, The Name of the Wind, pick that up immediately. It’s great. For those of you who enjoy a good nonfiction read from time to time, check out Robert Macfarlane’s, Underland. His prose is unmatched, and the story is phenomenal.

6. Change Your Setting

I don’t mean the setting of the story; I mean the setting where you write your story. Do you write in a cabin, the basement, a shed? Wherever it is you write, find a new place. We can grow stagnant in our spaces, no matter how inspiring they’re built to be. A quick drive to a local coffee shop, or maybe a stop in the park for those of you who have a mobile writing device will be beneficial to your mindset.

New air, new scenery, a new outlook — what more could we ask for as creatives?

7. Write Something Else

This falls on the extreme end of taking a break. It isn’t a permanent break, but it can do you justice to write something else. Bonus points if you challenge yourself to write something new. As I mentioned previously, I exclusively write nonfiction, accounts from my childhood and things alike. I took a stint from January to March where I wrote a few short stories and I loved it. I had never tried my hand at fiction before, but I did well. I was reading a lot of fiction at the time, too.

The fiction didn’t go anywhere, though. I didn’t finish half the stories, even those that were thousands of words deep. The ones I did finish were good and fun to read to myself, yet far from anything I’d ever share. I felt satisfied, but it was time to get back to what I normally write. And when that happened…holy moly.

I found that I wrote with more focus, more skepticism, more awareness of the story. My structure and organization grew significantly. My vocabulary had expanded, and I utilized more conventional storytelling techniques within my narratives. I’ve never been prouder of my work since I did that.

This is what happened. When I switched to a new realm of writing, I dove in headfirst knowing that I didn’t have the skills to do it. I became aggressive, passionate. I knew I had to study so I did. I ate up all the fiction I could in a brief stint, and I paid attention to what other writers were doing. I wrote my fiction and saw what worked and what didn’t. When it was all over, I came back to my normal writing with skills that I had always brushed over. They were in front of me the entire time, I just didn’t know I needed them.

Bonus Tip: Self-Talk

In part one, I talked a lot about self-doubt. It’s a serious issue that I’ve struggled with, and I’m sure many of us do. You get into the realm of Imposter’s Syndrome and other mental barriers we throw up, and we’re never certain we can achieve what we want. It sucks. But to write well, to write at all, you must overcome your doubt. If it seems impossible to you, take note of my disclaimer in the beginning. But for many of us it’s just a bridge we need to cross. We need to build ourselves up with the confidence that we are doing what we should be.

I’m not completely over my self-doubt. I deal with it every day, even when I’m not publishing my work. It’s easier to play Call of Duty for ten hours than to spend an hour editing a piece I really liked, only to come back and see it’s not my best.

You must talk to yourself. Talk to anyone about it if you can, but yourself is a good place to start. You have to wake up every morning with a ruthless mindset, saying, “I will fail today. Maybe one hundred times. But my failures don’t define me.” Few people remember Albert Camus for being an alcoholic adulterer, they remember him for The Stranger or The Myth of Sisyphus. Our failures don’t define us. They help us. A big failure forces your eyes inward, and only then can you fix the things you need to.

Meditate if you must, it helps. It doesn’t require you to sit in half-lotus on a pillow and rhythmically hum. Meditation is intentional thought on a matter. Do it in the shower, do it while you make coffee, do it how and when you must. All you have to do is find a way to be okay with failure, then write. Write, write, write, then write some more. Write until you derail, refocus yourself, then continue. It’s the only way.

Parting Thoughts

These are ways I get past writer’s block, but there are many others that work for people. It’s worth mentioning that, if after all of those you still struggle with your piece, it may be worth scrapping. It’s challenging and should be your last hope, but it’s possible the piece isn’t worth the effort. Take it outback and beat it with a shovel, perhaps the aggression will inspire you for the next thing you write.

While you’re here, check out my other work on Medium, like this article on handwriting you may find insightful!