Thursday, February 10, 2011

Writer's Block

This post is supposed to be about writer's block in an effort to help me get past it. I'm not sure it'll work, as I can't currently think of anything to write about it, oddly enough. I want to curse at writer's block, to shake my fist at it, to scream at the top of my lungs and impale it with my quill...but getting frustrated at writer's block is like punching a wall harder because it hurt your hand the first time.

All artists suffer from some kind of bleh period, don't they? Don't all writers fall to this from time to time? Don't artists put down their pencils and brushes in disgust as musicians fling sheet music into the air? How do they beat it, then? Do they continue in their art, making crap until good comes back out, like running warm water through the tap? Do they take a break, and if so, how do they remember to come back? How do you know when you beat it?

Really, I think at the heart of my particular predicament is the idea that nobody cares what I write anyhow. This sense of futility, that I'm the only one that enjoys my writing, saps that very joy from it, leaving me with nothing. And I'm not confident enough to ask people to read my writing, or critique it, or ask if they enjoy it, because I'm actually pretty self-conscious about it. Which is truly sad, as it's one of the few things I think I do well. Writing and cooking. And I guess unmentionables, too, but how pathetic can a person be if even their best isn't good enough for them? Am I a perfectionist? Or do I just hate myself so much I can't see the value of my work? Or, worse yet, what if my work is terrible? It's still the best I can do. I've fancied myself a writer my whole life, and if I can't do that right, what's left?

I'm not sure how many people would follow me on a literary adventure. I don't know if, when I set out on this road, anyone will be there to hear my minstrels sing of my glory, if indeed there is any glory to be found. Should I ask people to accompany me? Should I just journey for myself, and at the end of the road, look back to see if anyone came?

I don't know anymore.


  1. You silly retarded bastard.

    I adore your writing, it leaps light years ahead of my own meager scribblings and always astounds me. I was on edge of your Nano stuff, always waiting for the next part of the story.

    I too suffer from writers block. It's like a horrible venereal disease, cause once you have it you fear any activity will be bad, or that you'll be looked at in a bad light.

    But one thing I can say, in a bit of advice is simply to write something, anything. If it takes just relaxing, and quieting your mind, do it, then take a simple topic, like cheese sandwiches, and just write about them. Tell the story of some poor smuck making one or of a cheese sandwich on the run in picnic town. Just write, and with luck you'll get this funk out of you and then, you just keep writing, anything. Or so I've heard.

    I'm even beating my own dead horse, I need to try and write too. We'll see how/if I manage anything, and then see what you can come up with.

    Best of luck brother. And, for the record, don't make me cock slap you. Silly bastard.

  2. You should listen to Daedaleus, sir, you've told me before he's got one of the brightest minds you've ever encountered. He's smart and he knows what he's talking about.

    How many times have I stared at your poems for five times the number of minutes it takes to read the thing? I guess you don't know the answer to that, but it's a fair number. That's not because I didn't understand the poem, but because it takes me that many reads to be decently confident that I've caught at least half the levels of meaning. Sometimes I just like it that much that I have to read it over and over.

    Don't be self-conscious about your art. Art isn't about whether people will like it or not, art is about letting your heart be a model of its Creator.

  3. "You should listen to Daedaleus, sir, you've told me before he's got one of the brightest minds you've ever encountered. He's smart and he knows what he's talking about."

    What mindless nonsense is this? I'm not a brilliant sage! Sound advice it may be, but advice from much wiser council than I.

  4. Since when do the opinions of others affect how much satisfaction you derive from expressing thoughts? Sure, comments and critiques are nice, but ultimately writing is about your satisfaction.

    Having said that, I do enjoy seeing new views to my blog.

  5. I've said it since I had the pleasure of stumbling onto you - I adore your words. I'm finding as I get older, my tolerance for bad writing is dwindling. I'm becoming more of an elitist (which is pretty silly if you ever read my blog because it is full of bad writing). Both your writing and your ideas are stellar. As always, I adore your words, and I miss them. Muchly.