Writer’s Block Is A Bitch
The struggle of putting pen to paper.
Writer’s block is a bitch.
What makes the physical act of typing words that form sentences that form paragraphs, so damn hard.
It isn’t a shortage of ideas, in fact the contrary may in fact be to blame. An over abundance of half baked motions vying for attention, meaning none bear any fruit.
The goal to ‘Write More Often’ is right up there with ‘Get Fit’ and ‘Stop Biting My Nails’ as aspirations I have been failing miserably to achieve for almost 28 years. It’s quite the achievement.
Just like ‘Get Fit’, the goal of ‘Write More Often’ suffers from a high barrier of inertia. The simple fact is that it is easier not to do it. Once you get started at either activity you realise it isn’t so bad. You get a quick boost of endorphins. Your enthusiasm levels rise and your plans get exponentially ambitious. Who wants to write once a month when you could keep a daily journal, hell why not live blog your life for a month. But then, invariably life gets in the way. The chain is broken, the momentum surrendered and you are right back where you started.
It’s a sometimes boom and mainly bust cycle of productivity. It leaves you wondering what it was that got you into the state of flow that last elusive time. And more importantly why the act of restarting seems like such an insurmountable challenge now.
Some say it is the flaw of the perfectionist. That title sits uncomfortably with me as it feels elitist and smug. I certainly don’t consider my output to be perfect but there is definitely something about the fear of failure. An unpublished painting, article or bit of code can never be considered an abject failure. There is always the excuse of, ‘I wasn’t finished yet’. Whereas once you step back and say here it is, complete, it is ready for all to judge and critique.
There is an oft quoted but still relevant study about a Ceramics teacher who runs an experiment with his pottery class. He divides the group in two. One told to focus on quantity produced, the other solely on the quality of their output. The unexpected outcome is that the group tasked with churning out the quantity actually ends up producing the better quality work. Initially it seems counter intuitive but the hypothesis is that practice really does make perfect. Freeing people up from the burden of producing perfection means that they actually get to improve their craft and ultimately produce better work.
Clearly I’m no oracle on how to overcome this phenomenon but my advice to myself is thus. Just get started. Don’t wait for the perfect moment, the moment where your schedule is completely clear and you are seated at a proper writing desk with all the material and equipment you need. Don’t wait to have a fully formed article played out in your head. Don’t worry about where you might publish it or who might read it and certainly not what they may think. Just get started.
As a single anecdotal reference point, I have written this article using the thumb keyboard on my iPad mini, across two tube journeys. All the while fighting the urge to try my hand once more at Candy crush (level 65 — it’s a nightmare). And I’m about to publish it whilst sitting on the 135 bus home from the @stripe_uk launch party. Not exactly ideal but it results in a finished if imperfect product rather than an unfinished thought.
What could you write in the next 5 minutes?
