Tag Archives: writer’s block

I want to be as good a writer as my former self

I have not written anything decent in a long time.

Aside from this blog (which I don’t update nearly as much as I say I’m going to or know I should) and the few scattered poems I’ve scribbled down on scraps of paper here and there recently, I haven’t actually sat down and given anything my all in quite some time. And I know I have no one to blame but myself. I could sit here and make a million and one excuses as to why I’m not putting writing at the top of my list of priorities; I work too much, I’m too tired when I get home, I just want to relax and do nothing and there isn’t much time for anything else, the list could go on, but none of them would be good enough to warrant neglecting the thing that is supposed to be the thing I want someone to pay me to do one day. Which leads me to think, if it isn’t important enough to carve time out of my day for, maybe it isn’t what I really want to do…

Oh my god, I take that back. I could never actually mean that. That was a terrible prank I just played on myself.

But for real, how do you motivate yourself to do the thing you love to do when you don’t feel like doing anything at all? I have been asking myself this question for years.

In my younger days (I swear, I’m an old person already who goes to bed by 10 p.m. every night, even on the weekends; I can only imagine what it will be like when I’m actually old, and probably going to bed by 7, which makes me sympathize with old people who do that because, shit, I never realized it before but that will probably be me. But that’s a story for another time so, moving on), I could get into patterns of writing, where I would work really hard on projects for weeks, sometimes months at a time, churning out semi-awesome work in a (somewhat) timely manner and feeling pretty damn good about myself. I look back on that writing, those works of genius, with pride and jealousy. I want to be that good again, but I’m not sure how.

Part of the problem (warning: I’m about to make an excuse) is that all of that fabulous creative writing I was doing was happening while I was in college, either working part-time or not working at all. Now, as someone who works roughly 50 hours a week (with children no less, who, despite how much I love them, can be quite taxing at times) my brain is fried and my body is ready for bed by the time I get home, and all I really want to do is lay on the couch and zone out for a few minutes before I have to do it all over again.

Maybe my problem isn’t lack of time, because there are 24 usable hours in every day (and I could probably spend less time at the beach on the weekends and get shit done), but I can’t seem to find the creativity and zest for writing I once had. Whenever I sit down and do actually try and write something, either mediocrity comes to the surface or nothing comes at all.

Okay, so writer’s block. That must be it.

I do feel okay blaming this all on a prolonged stint of writer’s block.

But then how do you overcome writer’s block? Shit, I’m back to square one.

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The mindoverMadness Poetry Series: It’s Alright, Just Write

It’s Alright, Just Write

I just have to put these words on the page.

I just need to get something down in

the

ink.

Staring off into space

doesn’t help

It only adds more to my frustration.

A writer who can’t right

What kind of living is that?

The one thing you’re

good at

and

you can’t even do that

write.

If you keep writing

the wrongs

Maybe you’ll get something

Right

for once.

A shitty poem is better than

No poem.

No poem is

right if you can’t even

Right it.

All these writes and wrongs when it comes to

Righting

But who says you have to be right?

Just write.

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When you have nothing to write about, write about nothing

I’ve run out of things to write about.

Or, at least it feels that way.

It’s been quite some time since I’ve paid any attention to my blog or other projects I’ve been working on (just don’t mention the latest novel I’ve been working on, who knows when I’ll visit that again), and I feel badly about it. Not because I feel like I should be writing- okay, well maybe I do a little- but I just feel like I’ve run out of ideas. If you’ve ever had that feeling as a writer you know it sucks. Big time.

Oh, blank page, how I loathe thee.

There is literally nothing going on inside my brain that warrants any type of written word- or if there is, I don’t feel it’s worthy enough- and it’s very annoying. This writer’s block (as cliched as it sounds) has been hanging around far too long and it’s driving me insane. If you’ve ever wondered why writers get writer’s block, I couldn’t tell you. I usually write about random things that have absolutely no correlation, so it comes as a surprise that I can’t find a damn thing to write about. At this point, my cat could probably write something more interesting than me. Well, no actually I take that back, she couldn’t write anything (thank you opposable thumbs) but if she could, it would be a hell of a lot more interesting than this post.

And if you think staring at a blank page long enough will suddenly fill its blankness, let me be the first to tell you, you’d be wrong.

My hope, however, in writing a boring post about nothing is that perhaps the writing itself, the filling of the blank page, the act of forcing the words and letters from the tips of my fingers to the keys to the page, will be all it takes to stimulate my lethargic brain and spark some creativity back into my mind. After all, I can’t keep my adoring fans from my work for much longer or they may start dropping like flies dying for a drink of water.

That was a really bad analogy, but it made me laugh, so shut your mouth.

 

And yes, I was kidding. I don’t have any fans.

🙂

 

P.S. Please feel free to leave inspiring comments and/or topics of interest so that I may use them to write award-winning blog posts in which I completely plagiarize your ideas and gain overnight notoriety and am forever known as an amazing blogger and all-around writer. Have no fear, I’ll remember to thank you when I’m famous.

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