Need to Escape a Writing Slump? A Paradigm Shift Might Help

Why you should think of writing slumps as valleys — and 11 ideas to make the most of them.

Photo by Elisa Ventur on Unsplash

In the first half of last year, I finished a major rewrite of my second novel; generated multiple short stories for submission to literary journals; read a big book on writing short fiction; and completed an extension course on fiction.

In the second half of the year . . . I did not do all that.

There was the new puppy and the new house in a new town and a new school for my daughter and then also my short-lived adventure in trying to start a business — too much going on and too little time.

As a result, my writing practice during the winter months was like the stray sock that falls behind the dryer amid all the other laundry you’ve piled on top of the machine.

We should be writing every day, we’re told. Some in the writing community suggest that true writers can’t live without writing, in the same way we can’t live without breathing.

When you butt up against this kind of idealized rhetoric in the midst of a creative slump, it’s easy to feel like an imposter.

However, the reality for many (if not most) writers is that productivity will always wax and wane over time. Inspiration, motivation, and sheer bandwidth can all influence the generative cycle.

Have you ever been overwhelmed with ideas and intriguing characters and plot bunnies when you had no time or space to write? Or maybe you remember a period when you had all the time in the world but couldn’t motivate yourself to pick up a pen.

The guilt gnaws at me sometimes, when I sense that my craft has started to wane. I worry that it will never come back to me once I let it creep away.

If it’s natural for creativity to wax and wane, shouldn’t we welcome the long slumps?

Maybe it would help to think of them not as slumps or ruts but as low-lying valleys that we sometimes have to cross to reach the next towering peak.

A valley might not resemble a mountain, but both offer rich scenery and abundant wildlife — entire, thriving ecosystems! In the same vein, the waning periods of your generative cycle might not resemble the waxing periods, but they do fulfill a crucial and beautiful purpose.

Writers have to live and think and breathe. We have to experience and explore, or we would have nothing to write about.

And a creative valley is just another chance to fill up on those things.

We all glean inspiration from myriad sources.

In her book The Creative Habit, famous choreographer Twyla Tharp calls this process “scratching”. Note the inherent agency of this term — instead of waiting passively for ideas to strike her, she digs and mines and SEEKS.

Slumps and ruts leave little room for deliberate action. But crossing a valley with the aim to climb a mountain indicates the same kind of agency Tharp alludes to. As we cross valleys we can orient ourselves to our destination; gather materials that might be useful for the ascent; and prepare mentally, physically, and emotionally for the long journey ahead.

When I find myself in a creative valley — gearing up for my next project but not ready to begin the climb — I try to seek out ideas and inspiration from every corner of my life.

The following practices in particular tend to prove helpful to me when I’m crossing a valley:

1. Build a music playlist that captures the vibes you want in your next project.
2. Create a story aesthetic like this aesthetic I made for my latest novel. For more inspiration, scroll the #storyaesthetic hashtag on Twitter. (Hint: get free-use photos from Unsplash if you’re going to share your aesthetic publicly, and use Canva to create the collage.
3. Listen to podcasts that are (even just tangentially) relevant to the subject matter or themes you want to tackle.
4. Consume media (books, movies, TV shows) that feature character relationships, themes, and subject matter similar to those of your upcoming project.
5. Visit nearby locales that capture the atmosphere or mood of your story. You might even travel farther afield (provided you have the resources and ability) if you’re seeking inspiration or experience in a really specific region or city.
6. Make a Pinterest board. Don’t get too caught up in plot details or anything micro like that — focus on vibes, aesthetics, setting, that sort of thing.
7. Collect artifacts or tokens that relate somehow to your fledgling idea. For example, nature and trees were a central motif in my last book, so during that time I tended to pick up little acorns and seeds and carry them in my pockets.
8. Visit a museum, exhibit, or concert that might evoke the same themes or feelings as the story you’re scratching for.
9. Free write for 10 minutes, making sure to avoid any self-censorship or editing in that time. When you read your words back to yourself, highlight or circle any phrases that stand out to you and might be worked into a future project.
10. Write a list of core memories or stories from your life that would make good fodder for fiction. Even if you change most of the details, you might find that some of these memories lend themselves to the story you’re preparing to write.
11. Practice a craft or hobby related to your story. Maybe you’ve thought about making your main character a gardener, a chef, a potter. Take a class, or just throw yourself into the craft to get a feel for it!

Beware! Some of these exercises can be abused as means of procrastination if you’re not careful — especially if you’re already past the idea-gathering, valley phase, mid-project.

If that’s you right now, you might be better served by my tips for restarting a dead writing battery.

Either way, try to spend less time beating yourself up over a period of waning creativity and productivity; instead, remember that you’re simply crossing a valley.