When the Mojo Goes Missing

When the Mojo Goes Missing

And what I learned by not trying to force it back

I’m happy to report that my writing mojo has returned—at least partially. But for a solid week (maybe longer), it was nowhere to be found. And I’ll be honest—it rattled me more than I expected.

I’d sit down, open my notebook or laptop, look at my growing list of titles and half-formed ideas—over a hundred of them—and feel… nothing. Not a flicker. Not even frustration. Just silence.

So I was left with a choice: either push through the block or accept that these things happen, and give myself permission to rest. I chose the latter, and here’s what I discovered.

A Little Background

I write a few stories and poems every week. I post them on Vocal, on another writing platform, and on both of my blogs. I’ve had a decent run so far this year—nothing groundbreaking, but steady. Since joining Vocal last September, I’ve published 231 stories. Not a massive number, but one I’m proud of.

Lately, though, my output has slowed. And there are reasons for that.

First, I’ve been unwell—some lingering viral infection that’s left me completely drained. Second, my ex-wife has been in hospital for over a month now, after being admitted with heart complications. She doesn’t have anyone else around—her family’s not really in the picture—so I’ve been helping out. Checking on her place. Visiting when I can. It’s a 90-minute drive each way.

And on top of that, I’ve been coming to terms with the reality that my 93-year-old mother needs to move into a high-care facility. She’s still with us—but the move feels like a closing chapter. People don’t usually leave retirement homes. That truth has been sitting heavy on my chest.

I’m not saying this for sympathy. I’m saying it to acknowledge something we all forget far too often: these are not normal times. When life gets heavy—physically, emotionally—it’s only natural that your creative spark flickers or fades. And that’s okay.

So, What Do You Do When Your Mojo Vanishes?

That’s the question I found myself facing last week when I tried (and failed) to force myself into productivity.

There are really only two options:

Push through it.

Take a breath and trust it will return.

Option 1: Push Through It

Many successful writers swear by consistency. “Write every day,” they say. “Even when you don’t feel like it.”

And there’s truth in that. Writing regularly builds rhythm, structure, and craft.

But when nothing is flowing, when you’re staring at a blinking cursor and your chest feels tight from everything else going on, it can quickly spiral into something toxic. You start questioning yourself. You compare your output to others. You wonder if you’re slipping.

You tell yourself, “I’m writing for the love of it—not the numbers.” And while that’s true, we all know how it feels when a story lands with silence. It stings.

Writing without mojo is a bit like… well, bad sex. Forced. Awkward. Something you’d rather forget.

Option 2: Take a Break

Even elite athletes need rest days. Muscles rebuild when they’re not being pushed. Why should creativity be any different?

So I forced myself to stop worrying about not writing. I gave myself permission to rest. I read. I stared at the ceiling. I drank tea and let the days be quiet. At first, it felt unnatural. Guilty, even. But slowly, I found comfort in the stillness.

Two weeks later, my life is no less complicated. The stress hasn’t gone anywhere. But I’m no longer obsessing about my creative output. I know my writing mojo will return. And bit by bit—it is.

If you’re struggling with your own writing lull, here’s my gentle advice:

Don’t panic. Don’t punish yourself. Take a breath. Step back.

Sometimes doing nothing is exactly what the creative soul needs.

And when the mojo does return, it might come back with new clarity, fresh perspective, and maybe—if you’re lucky—a really good story to tell.

Until next time. 🌿