Writer's Block - The Conflict Within Ourselves
Posted by Andie Ryan Blog at 9/8/2010 1:10 PM 
Categories: Conflict, Fiction Writing Junkies, Revision Backroads, Writing Life
Tags: story characters Nobel Prize truths blank page writer conflict writer's block draft writing verities revision writers block plot William Faulkner
Categories: Conflict, Fiction Writing Junkies, Revision Backroads, Writing Life
Tags: story characters Nobel Prize truths blank page writer conflict writer's block draft writing verities revision writers block plot William Faulkner
Some people believe that when writer's block strikes, you should abandon what you're working on and move on to something else. I read a comment in a recent online thread that suggested the abandonment is permanent -- that a writer should never return to a blocked piece, and just start working on something new. I envisioned a long string of just-begun stories strewn throughout the house like boulders. Just when the going gets tough, just when the writer starts to face difficult questions about what the story's about and who his characters are, his eyes start roving.
I should say up front I don't believe in writer's block. There is "writing," and there is "not writing." There is "wanting to write," and there is "not wanting to write." There is "discipline" and there is "laziness." And even though it still sounds cool to say you want to be a writer, there is fear.
It takes time to know your characters. You have to spend time thinking about actions and reactions, about where to place specific scenes or conversations. If you keep starting new projects, you will become proficient at starting new projects. But you will not become proficient at writing. You won't steer into your story's development, which is where many of your writing epiphanies occur and where your characters really come alive. This is where a writer finds his wind for the marathons to come.
When you haven't navigated an entire process by finishing something, you don't find your wind. You don't learn that many days are very productive. You don't learn how to get through a few unproductive days by turning to different aspects of your story or research. You don't develop as good an instinct for what works in a story and what doesn't, or recognize what areas require more attention, or where your real strengths and weaknesses are. You don't come to know your characters well, so your story's depth remains limited, superficial.
Worst of all, if you 've gotten into the habit of not finishing stories, you may come to believe that you can't finish one. That kills the writing by making you afraid to begin.
If you compare yourself to others around you who are publishing or otherwise appear to be successful writers, recognize that there are two key differences: discipline and persistence. Also recognize that writing isn't easy for anyone, even those conference rats who claim to finish writing a readable novel in 56 days. This is simply one big boatload of happy horse shit.
"But I don't like what I'm writing," you say. "I don't know where to begin."
Then revise it, change it. Begin anywhere, begin in the middle. Don't talk yourself out of it. You've got the pen. Stick with it, mold it, define your own terrain. Be confident that you can make your story into something you're excited about. If you don't allow yourself to see that this is possible through revision, I don't think you will achieve it. Writing is its own process that you have to both respect and believe in. Otherwise, you'll just keep starting, stopping, and restarting in the same places with a different cast of characters each time. Your ability won't grow.
Don't worry if you end up with a story that gets ripped up in workshop or at your dinner table. By finishing, you will have learned something very important to your craft and to your future writing. You'll see that many good and substantive changes can occur in later drafts. You'll begin your next project with a few more tools in your toolkit.
In a speech accepting the 1950 Nobel Prize, William Faulkner said, "He [the writer] must teach himself that the basest of all things is to be afraid; and, teaching himself that, forget it forever, leaving no room in his workshop for anything but the old verities and truths of the heart, the old universal truths lacking which any story is ephemeral and doomed--love and honor and pity and pride and compassion and sacrifice."
So have a gun go off. Create a conflict or crisis. Make two people want the same thing. Allow your story to take its own direction sometimes, and go with it for a while, see what you think. But in any case, begin. Begin and revise.
The nature of the beast is that we all have to face, and conquer, the blank page through doing. You may not always be able to see it through the storms, but there are a whole lot of people on that opposite shore, waving you in.
I should say up front I don't believe in writer's block. There is "writing," and there is "not writing." There is "wanting to write," and there is "not wanting to write." There is "discipline" and there is "laziness." And even though it still sounds cool to say you want to be a writer, there is fear.
It takes time to know your characters. You have to spend time thinking about actions and reactions, about where to place specific scenes or conversations. If you keep starting new projects, you will become proficient at starting new projects. But you will not become proficient at writing. You won't steer into your story's development, which is where many of your writing epiphanies occur and where your characters really come alive. This is where a writer finds his wind for the marathons to come.
When you haven't navigated an entire process by finishing something, you don't find your wind. You don't learn that many days are very productive. You don't learn how to get through a few unproductive days by turning to different aspects of your story or research. You don't develop as good an instinct for what works in a story and what doesn't, or recognize what areas require more attention, or where your real strengths and weaknesses are. You don't come to know your characters well, so your story's depth remains limited, superficial.
Worst of all, if you 've gotten into the habit of not finishing stories, you may come to believe that you can't finish one. That kills the writing by making you afraid to begin.
If you compare yourself to others around you who are publishing or otherwise appear to be successful writers, recognize that there are two key differences: discipline and persistence. Also recognize that writing isn't easy for anyone, even those conference rats who claim to finish writing a readable novel in 56 days. This is simply one big boatload of happy horse shit.
"But I don't like what I'm writing," you say. "I don't know where to begin."
Then revise it, change it. Begin anywhere, begin in the middle. Don't talk yourself out of it. You've got the pen. Stick with it, mold it, define your own terrain. Be confident that you can make your story into something you're excited about. If you don't allow yourself to see that this is possible through revision, I don't think you will achieve it. Writing is its own process that you have to both respect and believe in. Otherwise, you'll just keep starting, stopping, and restarting in the same places with a different cast of characters each time. Your ability won't grow.
Don't worry if you end up with a story that gets ripped up in workshop or at your dinner table. By finishing, you will have learned something very important to your craft and to your future writing. You'll see that many good and substantive changes can occur in later drafts. You'll begin your next project with a few more tools in your toolkit.
In a speech accepting the 1950 Nobel Prize, William Faulkner said, "He [the writer] must teach himself that the basest of all things is to be afraid; and, teaching himself that, forget it forever, leaving no room in his workshop for anything but the old verities and truths of the heart, the old universal truths lacking which any story is ephemeral and doomed--love and honor and pity and pride and compassion and sacrifice."
So have a gun go off. Create a conflict or crisis. Make two people want the same thing. Allow your story to take its own direction sometimes, and go with it for a while, see what you think. But in any case, begin. Begin and revise.
The nature of the beast is that we all have to face, and conquer, the blank page through doing. You may not always be able to see it through the storms, but there are a whole lot of people on that opposite shore, waving you in.
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