Writer's Block

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Fighting Writer's Block - Part III

Get It Done -- Now! Your No-Fret, No-Sweat Plan

 

By David Taylor 

Here's a technique that can help you develop the discipline to stay in the harness and get the job done. I call it "block writing," and it can save you time and help you overcome self-doubt and procrastination. If you're like me, chances are you'll need tricks like this one at some point. Here's why.

 Other than an empty mailbox, perhaps the most frightening sight for a freelance writer is the blank page. Its terrors have driven many of our brethren to strong drink, greatness, or both. Sometimes I even hate finishing a page because I know another is waiting, its vastness daring me to fill it with my puny thoughts, meager vocabulary and -- by the way -- how could I produce anything worthy of the writers who have gone before me? I used to make "C's" in high school English! And so goes the constant babble of recrimination spewed by the monster of self-doubt lurking behind every blank page, which often becomes a mirror for our deepest insecurities.

 The Monster's Source

 The source of the monster's power is not merely the risk of humiliation we take every time we write, when we reveal parts of ourselves as personal as our underwear. There's also the mystery of the creative act. Although humans have explored deep space and the mysteries of DNA, we still know frighteningly little about creativity except that some of us have more of it than others, and that if we study our craft and work real hard, maybe, just maybe, the magic will happen -- but maybe not. It's that possibility of not measuring up, of Monster Doubt's voice drowning out our own, that makes some of us write not at all, others of us write less than we would like, and many of us write at a lower level than we could if sitting down and doing it were not so anxiety-ridden, so unpleasant, so frightening.

 When I left my job as a teacher of writing in order to freelance full time, I was forced to deal seriously and quickly with these issues of self-doubt, procrastination and their effect on my daily output. I developed a technique I call "block writing" that helped me overcome three common mistakes that self-doubting writers make, especially when the writing clock strikes high noon and it's time to create that crucial first draft.

 Mistake 1: Writing too slowly. Ever watch a painter or sculptor work? They rarely pause after each brushstroke or chisel strike. But I know writers who cannot pen more than a sentence without stopping to reread and revise it, as if perfect prose should flow from them like birdsong and the final product should take shape sentence by perfect sentence.

 Au contraire.

 On a first draft, the writer must probe the amorphous cosmos of thought where words and vision, form and intuition come together. Taking that inward journey means a commitment to writing in an uncensored way, and that usually means writing quickly and without stopping to second guess. By writing quickly, we can finally silence the critical monitor, the little devil who sits on our shoulder interrupting the creative process: "Is that the best word?" "This is probably a dead end." "Will the reviewer think that's stupid?" The devil gets his turn in the revision and polishing stages, not now. Writing quickly also gets us in sync with our internal voice, which gives writing its authenticity and resonance. The bottom line is that there is a time to create and a time to evaluate. Although both are legitimate parts of writing, they are best done at separate times.

 Mistake 2: Not distinguishing between fear of failure and possibility of failure. It amazes me that every time I sit down to write, I still get that panicky fear in my gut that makes me want to wash dishes, sharpen pencils and walk the cat -- anything to procrastinate. I still have to remind myself of the important difference between the fear of failure and the likelihood of failure.

 Rooted in our insecurities, fear of failure usually has little connection to its actual possibility. The reality is that if I've done good research, know the format and market I'm writing in, and I'm willing to put in the time, then failure is unlikely. Although I've learned to accept my irrational fear of failure as a part of my writing personality, even to welcome it because it makes me try harder and keeps me humble, I've also learned to trust reality: I recall all the other times I've sat down to perform this same act and been successful. Why should it be any different this time? The strong likelihood is, I tell myself, it won't be.

 Mistake 3: Focusing on the final product. While fox hunting and occasionally teaching writing at the University of Virginia, William Faulkner talked of the difference between "those who want to write and those who want only to have written." I think he meant that we are better off focusing on the challenges of writing, the potential it offers us for personal artistic growth, the satisfaction of creating something -- rather than the by-products of our work, whether ego or money. Books and articles are mere things. Their completion offers only momentary fulfillment. In the end they will be read by few, remembered by fewer. What's left to sustain us? The doing.

 Over the years, block writing has taught me the following four simple but important lessons, without which I don't think I could make a living doing this:

 To write, no matter my mood or level of fear.

 To focus on discrete steps and problems as they arrive in predictable sequence, not the final outcome.

 To keep my head down and butt in chair, ignoring the long, arduous road I must travel to produce final copy.

 To derive primary satisfaction from the actual process of creating, not its outcome. While I always hope that the final product will be one of my best, I know that there will always be successes and failures and things in between, but the satisfaction and joy of my craft will never abandon me.

 How To Block Write

 To begin block writing you need a timer, preferably with an alarm, to divide your writing day into 45-minute or one-hour blocks, each followed by a short break. The goal is simple: to sit derriere in chair and not get up during that time period. Eventually, doing this will become automatic. You'll give it no more thought than you do to brushing your teeth. You just do it -- without the complaining, the hesitation, the extra push of will. And when things aren't going well, when the demons of doubt snarl their loudest, when the writing chair seems a green mile away -- you'll have a simple ploy: "Well, I guess I could sit down for at least one block."

 The law of regularity

 Tell yourself: "If I sit down for enough writing blocks, eventually the work WILL get done. All I have to do is show up." Avoid commitments like, "During each block I will produce two pages of copy." It doesn't work that way. You never know what's going to happen once you sit down. You could produce 20 pages or 2 or none at all. Each outcome will have occurred for a legitimate reason. All you know is this: Spend enough time in the chair and, eventually, it will get done.

 The need for commitment

 Like any regimen, whether a weight-loss diet, exercise program or good dental hygiene, block writing will work only if you give yourself to it and play by the rules. That means that no matter how much you dread writing that day, no matter how unprepared you feel, no matter how frightened of failure you may be, no matter how sleepy you are, the simple act of putting your tush in a chair and starting the timer becomes the most important thing you can do to ensure your eventual success. It means you are acquiring a writer's discipline.

 The need for trust

 You must know and believe that during each block something will get done. Even an hour of false starts is important. Sometimes you have to write stuff you won't use in order to clear the way for stuff you will, or say things the wrong way in order to find the right way. But, most of all, you must trust that if you simply sit down for your time in the harness, block after block, eventually the work will get done. At the end of each writing period, you are always one block closer to success.

 The Five Benefits of Block Writing

 To understand the benefits of block writing, it's important to understand why it works. Although imposing artificial structure on the creative act of writing may seem counterproductive, I remind you of the formula for classical Greek tragedies, from Sophocles to Euripides: the fall of a flawed protagonist in a high position and use of dramatic irony to evoke pity and fear. Structure and pattern, it seems, have the power to free our creativity, whether it's the perfection of Oedipus Rex, the symmetry of a sonnet, or the timed bursts of block writing. With the structure of block writing come important benefits:

 Benefit 1: Defined limits

 For writers plagued by doubt, simply sitting down isn't enough. Without a tight seat belt, it's too easy to spring back up at the first itch of doubt, the first wretched paragraph or unyielding problem. By allowing yourself to arise in frustration, you reinforce failure -- not success. On the other hand, successful writers learn to stay in the chair and write through the problems, to get the work done one way or another. Learning to do that on a daily basis is, I believe, the defining characteristic of a professional writer.

 Benefit 2: Artificial pressure

 Freelancing on a part-time basis is psychologically more difficult than full-time. For a full-time writer, the sheer fact of having to sit down and write every day makes doing it as normal as going to the loo. Motivation is also important. Full-time writers have no problem being motivated. No write, no eat. Simple enough. But as a part-time freelancer with a full-time paycheck, you have little to lose besides pride (doesn't that goeth before the fall?). Sometimes we need the motivation that real-world pressure provides -- whether a mortgage payment or an editor's deadline. Writing blocks apply a helpful jolt of pressure that feels familiar, especially to the procrastinator in us who often depends on outside pressure to finally get things done.

 Benefit 3: Sharper focus

 I used to watch college students make this mistake every day: "I'm going to the library to study for three hours!" Well intended, but few students knew how to break long study periods into effective blocks with specific, achievable goals for each block. The result was usually sadly predictable -- wasted time despite honest effort, ending in frustration and disappointment. But writing is like a construction project, and from foundation to rooftop we must constantly ask, "What comes next?" Writing blocks encourage focus on one thing at a time: an effective lead; a main character's back story; a bridge section between main points. If the specific goal is achieved in one block, great! If not, what the heck -- have another block on me.

 Benefit 4: Required rest

 How long you can sustain concentration and remain efficient is an individual call. But one truth applies: going beyond your productive limit eventually leads to frustration, which can become its own problem. I have found 45-minute to one-hour blocks to be the most comfortable work period for me. For you it could be more, could be less. The key is to be disciplined and to give up romantic notions of working furiously while in the breathless grip of inspiration, losing all sense of self and time, emerging with masterpiece in hand. On some days that may happen; when it does, feel blessed and know it was possible because you treated the other 364 days like a job, complete with coffee and chit-chat (why do you think God gave us email?) during breaks.

 Benefit 5: Concrete goals

 Vague dreams lack the juice to sustain us through the tough work that a writing project requires. "I want to be published!" Fine, but as a binding contract with yourself that's a little soft around the edges, exclamation point notwithstanding. Writing blocks are a series of concrete obligations reinforced by timers, beeps, up and down movements, specific goals for each block. All of these things help bind us to the ultimate writing contract: To write our best, to grow from the challenges we've set for ourselves, and to be proud that we're doing it -- not merely dreaming it.

This Article was found at: http://www.articleblast.com/



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