Writing While Blocked

Writing While Lazy Uninspired Distracted Overwhelmed Self-Critical Blocked

At book presentations, I’m invariably asked, “What’s your process?” By which the curious listener is asking me to describe how I managed to come up with some 350 pages of narration.

Questions about process make me quail. Yes, I’ve created enough content to fill the pages of four (soon to be five) books. I’ve written fifteen short stories and twice as many essays and most of them I have published in one form or another.  On the other hand, I’m not nearly as prolific as Stephen King or Joyce Carole Oates or the guy that sat next to me on Author Day last year with seven of his twenty-two thrillers. Those people have a process.

Even best-selling author Lee Child has a process. According to every interview I’ve ever read, the man sits down and spins out narrative as if he were reciting in front of a group of rapt listeners. He has a book with an ending he didn’t see coming until he got there.

I don’t know if Lee Child gets blocked. Probably not. I’ll bet he fuels up on endless cups of the custom roasted blend he’s developed and named after his ubiquitous hero, Jack Reacher, then races his newest novel down the open highway without ever hitting a pothole.

I, on the other hand, run my creative car into all sorts of barriers. Some are physical; sore wrists, fingers, tired eyes cranky back and a very needy old dog who tends to whimper for attention. Other blocks are mental. Either I over-plan, which leaves me no flexibility, or I under-plan, which has me driving lost through my latest word salad. I’ve abandoned whole projects after figuratively running them off the road. Big stories seem to require a plan of some kind, unless, I guess, you’re Lee Child.

I’m also possessed by an existential demon that every so often rears its ugly little head and whispers, “Really, what is the point of all this writing?”

That I can answer. I love to write. I need to write, especially as a later-in-life writer who is long on ideas and short on time, relatively speaking. I want to take my imagination out for a spin, race it down the highway or toddle along a back road, with the top down. I don’t even mind the bumpy journey, with its detours, potholes and roadblocks. I don’t always know where I’m going, yet the destination eventually appears.

My process, such as it is, is made up of gentle reminders, not strict rules. I don’t want writing to be oppressive; nor do I want it to be purposeless. I want to finish what I start and let it out into the world, notwithstanding professional and lay critics (shudder).

The truth is, I may write for myself, but I finish for my readers.

Here, then, are suggestions I’ve created for myself. Feel free to borrow and share:

1. Always write. If you can’t seem to move your pet project along, start something else. Essays and short stories are good alternatives. Or write a letter to the editor or something for the comments section, or a book review. We writers prize a well-considered review.
2. Thinking counts as writing. If you find yourself dreaming about your next novel instead of writing it, indulge yourself. However, have paper and pencil, a recording device, or a mobile device with a keyboard with you at all times. Get your ideas down, especially if they seem pithy or punchy. They can serve as writing prompts, kind of like jumper cables. You never know which spark will rev your engine.
3. Get comfortable, not fussy. Find your ideal writing space with a decent desk, a supportive chair, a door you can close. Set it up the way you like it and let it be.
4. Close your social media while you’re writing.
5. Read aloud. If you get stuck on your outline or chapter or what have you, go back as far as you need to and read what you’ve written as if you were presenting to a group of rapt listeners. Bonus: It’s a great way to catch errors. Warning: Do NOT start editing as you read. Make a note and come back to it later. See below.
6. Don’t edit while you’re writing. That is to say, don’t try to catch the commas or tweak the dialogue or pile on the details until you’ve got an idea as to where you’re headed. I break this rule far too often and it’s almost never to my benefit. EXCEPTION: If you suddenly realize that including or rethinking a plot point will prevent you from driving into the weeds later on, so to speak, fix it.
7. Stand up every ninety minutes. Stretch. Walk around. Even the youngest among you have wrists, shoulders, backs and brains that need breaks.
8. Measure success on your terms. Some writers assign themselves word goals. I’d rather promise myself a solid synopsis, a tight summary, a coherent outline, even a proposal, anything that lights my way and points me in the right direction. Whether you’ve finished 5,000 words, one chapter, a page or a paragraph that had confounded you, give yourself a pat on the back.

 

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Nikki Stern writes both fiction and non-fiction. She’s the author of the inspirational HOPE IN SMALL DOSES, a 2015 Eric Hoffer Montaigne Medal finalist, and THE FORMER ASSASSIN, a 2018 Kindle Book Review category finalist. She co-authored the interactive Café Noir murder mystery series, published by Samuel French and her essays are included in three anthologies.

Eight of her short stories have been published in various online journals and she was a Mark Twain Royal Nonesuch (humor) finalist for her fractured fairy tale “Long Away and Far Ago.” Her latest novel, THE WEDDING CRASHER, is the first in a mystery series; Kirkus Reviews called it “an absorbing and surprising mystery tale” and BookWorks has named it a recommended summer read. Nikki is a member of Sisters in Crime, Mystery Writers of America, and Independent Book Publishers Association.

For more, visit nikkistern.com or follow her on Instagram and Twitter (@realnikkistern) and on Facebook (Nikki Stern, author)

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Category: Contemporary Women Writers, How To and Tips