Writer’s Block. Writer’s Anxiety. Writing Doubts. Perfectionism. Insecurity.
It doesn’t matter the term. I’ve got it. Hard.
No, no. Don’t back away. It isn’t contagious. At least, I don’t think it is. *achooo!*
At first I thought it was just some minor irritation. The words weren’t flowing. That happens every now and again. No big deal.
I skipped scenes and things would get going again before grinding to a halt once more.
Perhaps the story is too big, I mused. Perhaps I need to plan out the basic lines of conflict because of how complicated it is. Maybe I need a small brain break. Perhaps I don’t understand my subject/antagonist/protagonist/the weather/current astrological alignments.
Then the other symptoms started to appear. Angst. Apathy. Making busywork to keep me away from the computer. Holiday excuses.
The traditional remedies did nothing for me. Try writing something completely different. Take a walk. Read a new book. Try
895 different a few writing prompts. Drink coffee. Ditch coffee. Take up a hobby. Exercise. Go Vegan. Check your thyroid. Try Paleo. Snort this aromatherapy concoction. Intravenous chocolate infusion. Acupuncture. Chiropractic adjustments. Meditation. Zone out with Tetris. Fingerpainting. Chicken soup.
I even tried drinking alcohol, although I must confess that I don’t drink often and I’m a bit of a lightweight, so 2 Hard Lemonades in an hour were all it took to get me dizzy. And weepy depressed because it wasn’t working.
Which was irritating because normally the “I don’t want to hurt people’s feelings filter” falls off the mouth instead when I get tipsy.
*honk. snort, snort* Sniff.
My husband thinks it’s just one of those things. One of those mysterious, odd things that occasionally happen to creative types. Just like variant 97 of the common cold the kids keep trying to bring home, it happens to everybody, it’s temporary. You feel like shit for a while, you get better, you move on. “You just need to rest and take some time off,” he says.
“Can I go to Bora-Bora for a month?” I ask. *HIZZZ-AH-AHACHOOOO!!!!* Sniff. Snort.
“I can’t afford that, hon.”
“How about Iceland?” *AHZAHAZHACHOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!*
“Can’t afford that either. And you don’t have a passport, anyway.” He kisses my forehead, as if I really were sick.
What’s he worried about, anyway? He’s a computer security wonk. They don’t have to worry about writer’s block. “Oooooo….I’m just not feeling this firewall today. Am I sure I’ve got the software’s motivation right?”
It’s not contagious. *HAHZHAHAHAHAAZHAHIZZZZACHOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!*
Sniff. Ow. I think I lost some brain matter with that last one.
Check out the Insecure Writer’s Support Group to see more writers dish about their concerns, their solutions to various problems, or just a general fear of defenestration.