Writers Block? Never!

By Terrie Leigh Relf

Ok, so I’m not a very good liar.  If you could see my eyes right now, you’d know that I, too, occasionally succumb to the “Midwinter”, as well as the “whaddya- mean-spring-isn’t-here-yet?”  Blues.

Come on.  Writers are creative people.  Imaginative people.  We’re “all about” solutions to difficult conflicts, aren’t we?  We’re also excellent mediators, negotiators, and are in possession of a veritable Mary-Poppins-purse-full of tricks and treats.

A wise friend and former co-worker once said that “all you need is a round-to-it. She made one for me, too.  Keep reading, and you’ll learn how to make your own!

We could get all psychoanalytical and say that writers block is “just” a delusion, or perhaps a sign of procrastination.  We could also say that writers block is a specific reactionary device to ensure that we take a break from “being in the zone” for countless hours without sleep, proper nourishment, or fresh air. 

There may even be one or two writers out there who believe writers block is a message—and punishment--from The Muse.  You’ve sacrificed your social life and trips to the mall, made offerings of chocolate and espresso—even star gazer lilies—and she hasn’t so much as dictated a whispered line in your ear.

It’s no secret that I have a controversial relationship with my muse.  A friend in a writing group even went so far as to say that I needed to find a new one.  Needless to say, I’ve composed quite a few poems about poems, also known as Ars Poetica, in an attempt to create some kind of flow.

My first published collection of poems, Lap Danced by the Muse, has several poems that express how upset I’ve been with my muse.  She plays games with me, ok?  Toys with my affections.

And we all know how unnerving that can be...

So, if you’ve got da Blues, why not write about it.  That should get you unstuck.  In the rhetoric of Gertrude Stein:  writing is writing is writing…

You can also make lists like this one on how to make a living as a poet, which I transfused from an old WritersMonthly column Q&A section.  Writing lists is still writing, right?

• teach poetry
• facilitate poetry workshops
• be a poetry coach
• sign up for Slams and win prizes
• compile your poetry in a book-length manuscript and get it published
• get your name on one of those “best-seller” lists
• have regular speaking engagements and charge a lot of money
• be a visiting poet at a prestigious university where they give you room, board, internet access, and a stipend for printer ribbons, postage, and paper
• be a poet-in-the-schools
• win major contests on a regular basis
• sell your poetry to family, friends, and that English teacher who said, “you’re a good poet”
• find a benefactor
• get a grant
• become a poet laureate
• join with other poets to create an on-or-off-line publication where you charge big bucks for advertising
• write greeting cards
• write poetry-to-order
• put your poetry to music and become a (insert favorite form of music here) star
• climb into that time machine, travel back to the proverbial “good old days” when kings and queens had court poets
• invest the money you earn from selling poetry so that your poems gain more interest
• become a poetry marketing guru
• learn how to accept rejection because it is a “numbers” game (Go to http://www.rejectioncollection.com for inspiration!)
• put your poetry on T-shirts, coffee mugs, mouse pads, and all those other blank canvasses (I hope I don’t need to tell you to do this yourself so that some organization who shall remain nameless doesn’t profit from your work)

If the above is not working, then try these exercises:

1. Buy some of those children’s wooden blocks in bright colors. Stack them by color, topple them over—or build something with them.

2. Get a piece of wood, paint--or otherwise decorate--it.  In your nicest printing, inscribe “writers block” on it, place it on your desk.  Isn’t it beautiful?

3. If you’re more inclined toward visualization exercises, imagine your writers block is an ice cube.  Take it outside into the sun or melt it in boiling water.  (NOTE:  You can actually do this with a “real” ice cube if it assists your process.)

4. Get out that jigsaw and cut a round piece of wood.  Drill a hole in the center.  This is a round-to-it like the one my friend, Janeen made me.  Make a stack of them, and give them to all your writer friends who claim to suffer from writers block or the Midwinter Blues, or the I can’t-believe-it’s-not-spring-yet Blues.

Until next time, remember this: You know you want to write.  You’re compelled to write. You really want to right.  Writing is like breathing to you.  You love to breathe.  You need to breathe. You need to write…

Terrie Leigh Relf is a writing coach, editor, freelance writer, and poet who lives in South Park, a neighborhood overflowing with writers, nestled in San Diego, CA.  Please contact her at tlrelf@cox.net.