Welcome back to The Iron Jaw, a monthly column on the writing life. This month we will be talking about writer’s block. Let me preface by saying: there is no such thing as writer’s block. That’s right—it isn’t real. Writer’s block is an excuse, a convenient crutch, a way of explaining why you’re not writing. Why you’re not putting the time in. Why you stare at the computer and come up empty. Hey, I’ve got writers block. Jeez, that’s tough. Yeah, I wish I was writing but there it is, a case of writer’s block, like you’ve got a disease you have to recover from. Writing is the only activity for which we claim to have a legitimate excuse to not do it just because at times it is frustrating and requires us to work harder than we’d like.

Don’t believe me? Let’s use the example of cooking dinner. It’s your turn to cook only when you get into the kitchen you freeze up. You can’t think of a single thing to make. Your spouse comes in and asks what’s for dinner and you say, “Sorry, honey, I have cooking block.” He or she, immediately grasping how serious this is, leads you to the couch, pours you a glass of wine, and pats your hand until you recover. Sounds ridiculous right? Or how about a soccer player who shows up to practice and says, “Coach, I can’t kick the ball today, sorry, I have soccer block.” The coach would look at you like you’d lost your mind, then tell you to get out on the field and stop being ridiculous.

So if writer’s block isn’t real, what is it? What’s going on? Why aren’t you able to write?

What most writers call writer’s block I call fear. Paralyzing fear of writing something that might  not be any good. Fear that what you wrote last time was the only great thing you had. Fear that people will laugh. Fear that you will be told writing is not your thing. Fear that you will fail. Worst of all, fear your writing will viewed as mediocre. Fear paralyzes writers into a state of inaction, into believing they have lost their touch, their desire, their spark, leaving them to wonder why on earth they every wanted to write in the first place. It’s like being locked away in a room with four white walls with no exit, no sounds, no colors, no life. The brain is frozen, choked into a coma by a deep-seated belief that the author has nothing original to say.

This is a lie.

Writers are born with an endless imagination and infinite story possibilities exist. Sure, everything’s been done a hundred zillion times, but authors find new ways to write about the same old stuff. Lord of the Flies becomes Hunger Games. Dracula becomes a glittering Edward Cullen. The only thing stopping you from writing is the inner critic who shouts so loud it’s all you can hear. Don’t write, it might be bad! Stay away from the computer, you might be laughed at! Don’t even look at what you’ve done, it’s all terrible! This is the voice the paralyzed writer hears inside their head every single day

So how do you break down the blank walls trapping your mind?

By facing your fears. By standing up to your inner critic. By accepting that the words you write today might not be great. Yet. But until you let the story out, you’ll never know what it can become. Writing requires fearless joy, like the kind of feeling you get when the top’s down on the convertible and you’re exceeding the speed limit, wind in your face. Words don’t fall onto the page as polished gems. Most of the time they’re stuttering and choppy because the creative process is chaotic and raw, but it is the engine that shapes and forms the story. If you can face your fear of being less than, of being not good enough, then you can stop trying to be so important and just have fun. Write from your gut. Laugh at yourself. Let your character sing off key in the shower. Bust it out with joyful abandon as you seek out the heart of your character and let him or her roar with life. Newly formed writing is plastic to be molded and shaped. If you just let the words out without judging them, with disciplined editing you can turn your choppy words into something beautifully polished and moving.

So if you feel you are suffering from writer’s block, take heart. There is a cure. It involves doing the very thing you believe you can’t: writing. You must write the most painful words, the most awful sentences, the most poorly constructed paragraphs you have ever written! Now that that’s over, do it again, write the next page, and the next, and each page you write will be less painful than the one before until writer’s block is a thing of the past. Write through the pain, write through the fear, and one day, the story you were born to tell will exist within the pages of your finished novel.

If you’ve read this far and you’re still stuck, here are some tips on things you can do and things you should avoid:

  • Try skipping over the part where you’re stuck and put a placeholder like TBD, then move on to another scene. Sometimes seeing what comes after helps bridge the gap.
  • Write a draft of the ending. Even if you don’t end up using it, wrapping up the story can help fill in missing pieces.
  • Relook at your two key characters—the protagonist and antagonist—and the conflict they are struggling to solve. It could be the conflict isn’t big enough, the antagonist isn’t “antagonizing” enough, or the solution is too easy.
  • Avoid spending your time revising and editing pages during the first draft. Editing skills utilize the critical part of the brain and can interfere with the creative process and your mind’s ability to imagine freely. Keep focused on nurturing your creative brain and box the critic out until the story is complete.

A note of caution: don’t confuse writer’s block with burnout. If you’ve just finished a novel, you absolutely must recharge your batteries and let your creativity rest in between books. You cannot write every day and never take the time to fertilize the ground and let your brain be fallow. Take time to get outdoors, read other author’s books, refresh your energy and then come back for the next one.