I think it was Jodi Picoult who said, “I don’t believe in writer’s block.” All well and good, we might sneer—Picoult is a bestselling author of dozens of novels–but what about us mere mortals?

Actually, I think Picoult makes an excellent point—for mere mortals and bestselling authors alike. What we call writer’s block really is probably the result of internal phantoms stopping us from saying the thing we really want to say, or stress and fear creating a situation where our brains blank (fight, freeze, flee, right?) as some sort of primitive response system. There is no such actively existing condition as “writer’s block.”

What do I mean by this? I mean, when faced with essay questions, or writing prompts, or your boss’s latest incomprehensible instructions, it’s not that we don’t have fragments of ideas popping up in our brains, it’s that we don’t think these fragments will be good enough, or that they will lead us to create what is needed. Sometimes, what we call “writer’s block” is, I suspect, really our aversion to the process of writing, which looks hilariously simply if we think of it as putting one word down after another, but becomes immensely painful if we start thinking about the citations, and the fact checking, and the choice of just the right word to put down next, and the (pointless) changes that our boss will definitely ask for. But this isn’t really “writer’s block,” right? It’s more like, “writer’s crushing responsibilities.” It’s not that we have no ideas, it’s that we feel sian (i.e. tired) just thinking about the whole situation wherein we have to develop these ideas.

Or we have the opposite scenario: we get the instruction or question, and our brains go, “ah! I see you have received an impossible task. How awful! You’re going to fail at this task and everyone is going to hate you forever. Might as well play dead. Bye!” And so your brain goes a lovely shade of white, and nothing comes. Again, though, not “writer’s block” as we may think of it, but more like… “writer’s traumas resurfacing as terror and a refusal to play the writing game.”

Both scenarios are, I suppose, the reason why people still hang on to the idea of model essays. Ok, I see how amateurs do learn by mimicking the masters. I see the value of trying out Dan Brown’s fast-paced, cinematic style, then trying out Rowling’s whimsy, then maybe attempting to try out Henry James’s lush, ornate, overdone prose. Along the way, you’ll pick up a lot of techniques to say exactly what you want to say—if you stop and analyse why these writers write the way they do.

But—and please correct me if I’m wrong—I don’t think books of model essays do that. I don’t think many young, and/or aspiring writers have the luxury of time, leisure and encouragement to try out different writing styles. And worst of all, the writing—whether creative, expository, or functional—that the vast majority of us encounter in the school system is time-bound, and far too dependent on conservative tastes and competing objectives to encourage even the development of interest in the art of writing, much less personal voice.

And so we fall back on the tried and true. The cliches that “work.” The “good phrases” and reminders that “you must have a twist here.”

I’ve actually written a pair of posts about how to generate ideas if you’re writing an expository/argumentative essay. Do have a look if your immediate purpose is to deal with the blank page in those scenarios.

But what about creative writing?

I always liked, at some point in the year, to ask those of my students who enjoyed writing, especially creative writing, where they find their inspiration. So here’s a combined list of ideas for generating ideas and sustaining interest/faith in these ideas when the terrors in your head start to grumble too loudly!

1) Act like a writer of fanfiction

This one is especially useful for people who find their beginners at generating story or character ideas of their own. Stand on the shoulders of giants! Love the world of House of the Dragon? Borrow it, but put in your own character. Love the characters in Harry Potter? Take your favourite character and change the rules of the world—who would Harry, Ron and Hermione be if the world did not have magic?

WARNING: if you’re working under timed conditions, be aware that the plot you might be borrowing is far, far to complex for the time you have to write the essay. So borrow details of the world, borrow details about the characters, but create your own plot which fits into the exam timing!

2) Draw from your interests or lived experience

You enjoy music? Start with a character who enjoys music, or works with music. You recently signed up for a knitting class and thought the experience was magical? Imagine a world where knitting is actually magic—i.e. instead of having wands and shouting spells you’d knit and magic would happen. You recently burned dinner? Imagine a story where the burned dinner is either the first scene, or the climax! What happened after dinner got burned? What led to the character burning the dinner? What were they making anyway?

3) Listen to music

This one really, really works. I favour soundtracks—movie soundtracks, game soundtracks, etc. because these were already created to tell a story. Listening to soundtracks, even the soundtracks of movies I’ve watched, sometimes inspires me to imagine what sort of scene(s) might go with the music. And sometimes, when I’ve left a piece half written, and cannot get back into the mood of the scene, I’ve saved my own bacon if that scene was originally written to a soundtrack. All I need to do is listen to the track again!

To fellow educators: marking becomes so much more bearable when some swelling epic piece is playing in my ear. I think the Avengers, Pacific Rim and Wonder Woman soundtracks have saved my job several times. Plus, soundtracks have no lyrics, so I won’t absentmindedly write lyrics on the poor kiddo’s script rather than actual comments.

4) Take a break and read

Of course, this one only works in non-time-sensitive situations. But hey, some assignments are like that! Sometimes, taking a break from your own writing and reading someone else’s words is the palate cleanser you need to be able to taste again. Recently, I’ve discovered some wonderful books by writers for writers: Bird by Bird, by Anne Lamott as well as Everyone Has What It Takes by William Kenower. Books like this remind us to be kind to ourselves, and that the screaming, overcritical monsters live in everyone’s heads, so really, the blank page is everyone’s problem. Put differently, there’s no need to fear “writer’s block,” because that simply is the natural state of things. That said, these books are probably not for everyone—in those cases, I’d recommend going out and reading whatever catches your fancy on the bookstore’s or library’s shelves.

5) Look around you

This actually works in the classroom! Look out the window, find something which catches your fancy. Start building a story around it. See a tree? Who sat under it, and why? Were they upset, sad, happy? Were they alone? Did they want to be alone? Or maybe there’s nothing outside your classroom except… more classrooms. Ok, let’s roll with it. What if you hear something odd from the classroom opposite? What would be an odd sound in this context? What happens if you go investigate? Basically, pick one thing in your immediate environment, and ask the 5W’s and 1H about it to get an idea going!

You’ll notice, though, at no point on this list do I mention evaluating the idea, or asking, “hang on, does this suit the question or instruction”? That comes later. And that’s the subject of a later blog post, probably. But really, if your concern is to get past the blank page, then that’s your concern. Evaluating is a problem for future you.

A final word: if you enjoy creative writing, I also offer writing prompts on my Instagram channel! Check me out here. In fact, a sci-fi / horror prompt just went up yesterday.

Right. Shameless plug over. All the best with your creation and writing, y’all!

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