There is no such thing as a writer’s block

Writer’s block simply does not exist. It can not exist. For it to exist it has to be something, a thing, a ‘block’.

For example, for a traffic jam to occur there have to be cars, many cars, at approximately the same place and intending to move generally in the same direction. So, one could confidently say that during a particular time in a particular stretch of a highway one could and even should expect traffic. Knowing patterns of popular mass automobile ‘behavior’ enables one to develop predictive intelligence: “Dear, we should leave Charleston before nine a.m. lest we get stuck again by Richmond”,”I do not mind driving at night and listening to Springsteen — free from anxious people and traffic”, et cetera. Traffic jam is a temporary occurrence, it is a condition, but it is not a block in and of itself. It is not a pile of rocks or trees. In fact it is traffic’s own nature to disperse itself in time.

Writer’s block is an event of similar quality — seems to me. To deal with it successfully one can employ a few different tools. One can wait it out — “I don’t mind traffic — I got my Spotify on”. One can take a country road — “I will take care of cleaning and laundry meanwhile”, hoping that the block dissolves itself during the detour.

There is another one, the one I really like — getting through it all by … going through it. Make your traffic jam your most interesting story. Describe every car. Adore every turning signal — whether it’s on or off. Get to know your ‘neighbours’. Wave and smile (sincerely, please) at the people next to you. Love every moment. Be grateful for the opportunity to do all of that. Write ABOUT the block and… it will vanish like a morning fog.

Best of luck!