For Those Times When You Have Trouble Writing

We learn writing by doing it.

― Natalie Goldberg

I’m a bunch writer. I write a bunch, then I don’t write a bunch. There’s no in-between. Feast or famine.

Many of you are the same. We dump our hearts and minds for all to read and after a while, it wears you down. You wonder what it’s all for. And you take a break until the heart and mind are more full, more able to pour it back onto the screen. For some, it’s quick. For those of you like me, it takes as long as it takes. Too long, usually.

We have the ideas, it’s expressing them that I see most writers (including myself) struggle with. I also see so many people wanting to create content instead of write. There’s a big difference between the two, and it shows in what’s produced.

While there’s no formula for creativity, there are methods that can help spark it. Although the methods don’t matter as much as the results (good writing is good writing, no matter what you did or how long it took to get there), the more you refine your methods, the better your results will be.

The problem is that many of us are running on empty, especially in this casual dystopia we currently live in. We creatives often have only so much energy to give. It’s also hard to fit something like writing into busy lives, especially when we aren’t sure how it will turn out. We become scared of our own standards and the fear of failure. So we find something else to give our energy to, leading to procrastination and an unhealthy dose of self-loathing. Or is that just me?

Some consider this writer’s block; however, I’m not so sure. It’s not an inability to write; it’s an inability to sit down to write. It’s not always about writing articles or even writing well, either. It’s about the act of writing. Period.

In Anne Lamott’s book, Bird by Bird, she agrees that emptiness is a part of what some call writer’s block. “The word block suggests that you are constipated or stuck, when the truth is that you’re empty.” According to Lamott, that emptiness, along with the shame and frustration that go with it, can destroy some writers.

Lamott first recommends changing your thinking. “Here’s the thing, though. I no longer think of it as block. I think that is looking at the problem from the wrong angle. If your wife locks you out of the house, you don’t have a problem with your door.”

We can change our thinking and get past this emptiness through acceptance. “If you accept the reality that you have been given — that you are not in a productive creative period — you free yourself to begin filling up again.”

Her solution is to write anything, whether it’s a memory, a dream, or a stream of consciousness on how much you hate writing. But you must write. She recommends at least 300 words, but I’m happy with a paragraph, a sentence, even a word.

The first lesson is hard but not complicated. Sit down in the chair and write, no matter how much. Anything. It all counts. And soon, you’ll find yourself filling up again.

Writing is a skill. Practice it.

Almost all good writing begins with terrible first efforts. You need to start somewhere.

― Anne Lamott

My drafts are a mess. I have disjointed thoughts strewn about the page like I’m mad, and not the angry kind. If you were to peruse my 165 unfinished stories, you would believe I have a touch of schizophrenia. There are misspelled words and sentences that make no sense, and multiple links to somewhat related stories I’ll end up not using. I’m constantly moving words around, cutting and pasting, deleting and adding. That’s how I write. But I’m more concerned with the final product than with my disorganized drafts. It works for me. I think.

We’ve all heard the phrase, You can’t edit a blank page. That’s why the first lesson is the most important — you have to get the words on the screen. But almost as important is not to worry about those very same words until you edit. Write it down, no matter how absurd the thought may be.

Dr. Robert Epstein is a psychology researcher, professor, and the former editor-in-chief of Psychology Today. His research on creativity has been featured in many reputable magazines, and he has published over 350 articles, including scientific articles in Science, Nature, and the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

Based on more than 25 years of laboratory and field research on creativity, Dr. Epstein created the Epstein Creativity Competencies Inventory for Individuals (or ECCI-i), which measures four types of skills that help people express their creativity. According to his site, “It has been scientifically validated with a sample of more than 13,000 people in 47 countries.”

One skill area within the inventory is Preserves New Ideas, which is considered the most important skill of the four competency areas and the easiest to learn and master. The other three are Seeks Challenges, Broadens Skills and Knowledge, and Changes Physical and Social Environment.

Regarding preserving new ideas, Epstein says, “People who express a lot of creativity capture and preserve their new ideas as those ideas occur to them. They capture now and evaluate later, recognizing that almost any new idea might have value. They use devices to help them capture ideas: artists carry sketch pads, for example, and writers carry memo pads or voice recorders. When no recording device is available, they scribble on napkins or call their own answering machines to avoid losing an idea.”

And, “People who are good at capturing also make themselves aware of certain times and places that help the ideas to flow, and they deliberately use those special times and places to observe their own thoughts and record new ideas.”

I trail run a lot. Not only does it help my mental, emotional, and physical health, it also sparks creativity. I use it as a creative outlet and purposely use that time not only to improve my running, but also to explore new ideas and write.

I often stop to record ideas and thoughts on my phone during runs. I write it down no matter what it is. If I don’t, those ideas disappear. As I age, my brain doesn’t seem to want to hold on to information that well, and it’s important to get those thoughts recorded into something that isn’t my brain. But I’m capturing what is in my mind.

This is why my drafts look the way they do — I’m dumping all the puzzle pieces into one spot and although they look a mess now, I’ll figure it out as I evaluate. Once I start putting the pieces together, everything becomes clearer. I’ll have extra pieces I’ll get rid of and add some to replace the ones that are gone. What’s important is that I preserve those pieces as soon as possible, even if they don’t make the final cut.

Almost any new idea might have value. Capture now and evaluate later. Separate the editor from the writer at first, even if it looks like a schizophrenic mess.

I recently moved my writing desk against the wall, bought a simple timer to help get me started writing, a new framed poster of the Arizona Trail for inspiration, and put a Himalayan salt lamp next to my laptop for some ambiance. I’ve seen my writing productivity increase substantially since.

Environment plays a big part in creativity. Even the simple act of moving my desk makes a drastic difference in consistency and wanting to write. It feels like a completely new space despite the subtle changes. I can’t wait to sit down at my desk.

If we go back to the ECCI-i from Dr. Epstein, changing your physical and social environment was another important factor in helping people express their creativity.

Dr. Epstein writes, “One can increase one’s creative output by deliberately manipulating both the physical and social environment: redecorating one’s work or living space, putting unusual objects on one’s desk, hanging out with new and unusual people, bringing together unusual combinations of friends, and so on. Static, boring environments generally inhibit creative expression.”

This change of environment is also why I end up writing quite a bit on my trail runs. I’m outside, my body is being pushed physically, and my mind is energized by the activity, scenery, and solitude. I’m inspired because I’m not in that static, boring environment.

Epstein’s research on environment is backed by others. In a paper titled An Analysis of Writer’s Block: Causes, Characteristics, and Solutions the authors surveyed 101 writers whose average time writing professionally was 11 years, and they looked at participants’ solutions for writer’s block. The sample is small but its findings are useful. They found that the most reported solution was to take a break from writing; however, of the 66 participants who took a break, only 26 (39%) found it to be effective.

According to the analysis, the most effective solution to overcome writer’s block is to take a walk or exercise. One hundred percent (18 of 18) of writers in the analysis said these two solutions were effective or very effective in helping them get back to writing. The second most effective solution percentage-wise (67% — 16 of 24), was to discuss ideas with others.

These are simple yet practical ideas anyone can implement. You don’t need that writer’s course you saw on Instagram (this is mostly for me) or a book to help you get back to writing. Those are just another way to procrastinate.

The solutions are simple. Get outside. Exercise. Go for a walk. Even better, discuss your ideas with a friend while on your walk. And then get back to writing.

Inspiration is everywhere. I get it from running and being outside on the trails and from music, books, and everyday interactions. I find ideas from movies, television, the news, and the people, places, and things I interact with daily — those 165 unfinished drafts proof that I’m always thinking of what I could write about (and an overactive brain).

One of my favorite stories I’ve written, In This Dimly Lit Room Full of Emptiness, was based on a line in Audioslave’s song “Like a Stone.” In it, Chris Cornell’s warm, husky voice, which seems made for rock music, powerfully sings:

On a cobweb afternoon

In a room full of emptiness

By a freeway I confess

I was lost in the pages

Of a book full of death

Reading how we’ll die alone

And if we’re good, we’ll lay to rest

Anywhere we want to go

The line “In a room full of emptiness” led me to think about my own room full of emptiness. The song made me research Cornell and his life and I found out we had a lot in common — years full of depression, anxiety, and addiction. It made me think about how my little space on this planet was part of a larger universe and how we are all living in our own rooms, some emptier than others. If I never listened to that song, I would have never written the story.

I wrote a 4,000+ word essay on healing based on an interaction I had with a stranger while trail running. An Instagram reel was the inspiration for researching and writing a piece on nostalgia. And one of my few attempts at poetry was based on a single word — Dissonance.

This story was born out of being unable to write as much as I wanted. So I researched and wrote the story I needed to not only write but also read — your stories can be for you just as much as they are for others.

I see a possible story in the world around me that wants to be written, all because I’m listening and observing. The lessons and stories are there waiting to be told. Pay attention.

If you are a writer, or want to be a writer, this is how you spend your days — listening, observing, storing things away, making your isolation pay off. You take home all you’ve taken in, all that you’ve overheard, and you turn it into gold. (Or at least you try.)

— Anne Lamott

Actively look for inspiration. Whether it’s in a book, the music you listen to, or from someone else, inspiration is there. Find it. Then build a story around it.

If something inside of you is real, we will probably find it interesting, and it will probably be universal. So you must risk placing real emotion at the center of your work. Write straight into the emotional center of things. Write toward vulnerability. Risk being unliked. Tell the truth as you understand it. If you’re a writer you have a moral obligation to do this. And it is a revolutionary act — truth is always subversive.

― Anne Lamott

I know it’s cliché as hell, but we all have stories, and we are all unique. Although we have similar experiences, there is not one other person living the same life or having the same experiences and thoughts as you. You, yourself, are a story.

This will not help you sit down to write, but one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned with writing is it needs connection — whether it’s with yourself, the reader, or preferably both.

No matter how different our lives are, there’s still a shared experience from being human. We can relate to each other through stories of work, relationships, and life in general. Readers love a good personal story. They get invested and want to see themselves in your words and stories. Readers want to connect to the words on the screen, feel emotion, and connect to you, the writer. To the real you.

What I see often in articles is a failure to connect to the reader or yourself (these make for some of the best stories). I see a failure to respect the reader’s time. Have you ever put yourself in the reader’s shoes? Why should they care? Do you have the reader in mind when you write?

The next time you sit down to write, think about these questions:

Is the reader’s life enriched by reading the story?

Does the story show genuine regard for the reader?

Readers want connection. To you. To your story. Stop writing to an algorithm. Write to connect.

I’ll admit I need to work on respecting the readers time; I get long-winded sometimes. My writing can always improve. More importantly, I want to improve. That’s why I implemented everything here, and although writing is still hard, these lessons have made it easier.

As always, take what works for you and leave the rest. But if you take away anything from this story, I want it to be this last lesson.

This lesson is more important than the others. It’s for those times when nothing seems to work and you feel like you’ll never write again. It’s for those times when you struggle to put even a word on the screen, and you wonder if the term writer applies to you.

Don’t beat yourself up.

Writing is hard. Writing well is even harder.

Don’t get caught in the endless cycle of guilt, avoidance, and pressure. When it is your time to write, write.

— Natalie Goldberg from Writing Down the Bones

A version of this story originally appeared on Medium.