In a recent post I wrote about the relationship between creativity and productivity, niftily summed up by my formula, the more you write the more you write. But what happens when the well of creativity suddenly dries up? How much sympathy can you expect from writing professionals? Not much as it happens.
Writer’s block – yeah, right
Q: How do you spell writer’s block? A: C-H-I-C-K-E-N.
Novelist and tutor James N. Frey takes a very hard line with people whinging about their writer’s block. He calls blocked writers “the Saint Sebastians of the writing profession”. And that’s just for starters. Imagine, he says, the bricklayer claiming a spot of the old Bricklayer’s Block. Laughable. No, at bottom, writer’s block is an extreme form of cowardice mixed with arrogance, where the writer is paralysed by his own high standards, and yet demands sympathy for this poor affliction that he’s suffering from. Strong words indeed.
Similarly, I recently heard another writer on the radio – didn’t catch his name, dammit – debunking the ‘myth’ of writer’s block. The only thing that stops you writing, he says, is broken fingers.
This unforgiving position can be pretty seductive. Deep down I have an admiration for the straight talking, tell-it-how-it-is kind of person, like Suralun – sorry, Lord Sugar – or Supernanny. That’s because I recognise their message for what it is: a form of tough love. The Freys, Sugars and Frosts of this world are saying it for our own good. Just like my dad and his brand of no-nonsense Caribbean wisdom. You can’t hear, you’ll soon feel!
Before you know it you’re joining in with the big guys. Writer’s block? That’s just for wimps. It’ll never happen to me.
Never say never
A cautionary tale
Call me superstitious, but you don’t want to tempt fate by bragging either, because you never know what’s lurking round the corner.
Fans of Enid Blyton may remember how Alicia in ‘Upper Fourth at Malory Towers’ got her comeuppance. Alicia was the sharp-tongued, clever girl with zero tolerance for dimwits. But on the day of her School Cert exam – which she’s expecting to ace – a dreadful thing happens. She opens up the paper but can’t concentrate; her brain has suddenly turned woolly! Only after she collapses in a faint and is carried off by Matron is a diagnosis of measles made. Thankfully, her loss of brainpower was only temporary, but the moral is not to take your gifts for granted because one day you might lose them.
Or, to quote another of my dear dad’s sayings, when chickens merry, hawks dem near.
What’s your view on writer’s block? Tough or sympathetic? I’d love to hear from new and more experienced writers.
Fiona Joseph
5 Comments
At this point, with three little ones, any writing time I get is a gift. I spend hours thinking about what I’m going to write, so by the time I sit down, the words come quickly. I know once I have more time to write, it will be more difficult, so I’ll try to learn some lessons from this really productive time–most importantly, to have other interests. If writing isn’t the sole occupation, it probably has a better chance of succeeding and not getting stale.
Hi Erica, good to have you stopping by again. I think that’s an excellent point you make and I can totally identify with what you say about it actually being harder when you have more time to write. I’m also a mum, and a business owner, so although life is very busy it makes one appreciate the time that one can grab for writing, as you say. You sound a very wise woman!
Fiona
Wise words Fiona, and I love your Dad’s saying!
This also brings to mind Robert Goddard’s opinion on the matter, as we heard during his talk at BBF a few weeks ago: “I always think people who get writer’s block don’t enjoy writing very much.” No sympathy whatsoever!
Your beautiful phrase at the top of this page is very much akin to one of my grandma’s sayings “sleep begets sleep” which was advice often employed if I foolishly tried to wake my baby daughter from an afternoon nap “so she’ll sleep tonight.” I’m sure there are further connections between sleep and creativity, but as it happens I am supposed to writing my own blog at this very moment, so I’d better save that thought and get on with it!
Hi Fiona,
I want to plead the case for some people who get writer’s block or indeed any other kind of mental obstruction. Tough love can be good, but its not always the right medicine. Depression is an illness, for example, that incurs little sympathy from some people who have never had it, and their attitude only makes matters worse for the sufferer. Sure, depression and writers’ block – which may have something in common, I think – may be ‘self-imposed’ in so far as they come from within. But that doesn’t mean they’re not real. The point is there are things you can sometimes do about it – lowering your standards for a while is one; learning not to fret about it could be another. Wikipedia gives a list of some great writers who have had it. The poet Gwynneth Williams has written a lovely book about her depression, called Sunbathing in the Rain. She has learned to see it as part of her nature and to go with it. As you say, you should never take your gifts for granted.
N x
Hi Emma, thanks for reminding me about Robert Goddard. You’re right, he did say that about writer’s block! And thanks, Nick, for reinforcing that point about writer’s block as part of a more general malaise, which may also strike. I agree that sometimes lowering your expectations is a far better strategy than beating yourself up about what you haven’t achieved. We need to be kind to ourselves as well as getting tough! Look forward to seeing you both soon. Fiona x