How to combat the dreaded block?

I've always hated the term "writer's block." It seemed too easy to me, too cliche, too always said with a knowing and sympathetic nod. I always though it was more like writer's laziness. Perhaps writer's pessimism, with a dash of writer's distraction. But this, I recently found, was condescending of me.

Full disclosure: I had a bad, and I mean baaad, MFA workshop a few weeks ago. Mortifyingly bad. Crying-in-the-bathroom bad. Chugging-beer-on break bad. I had submitted a story with which I wasn't completely satisfied. I knew there was more delving to do, more pulling at the characters to extract their real substance. There was more of a story to tell than what I told. My workshop instructor indirectly (but not that indirectly) likened it to a painting of a lily you buy to complement the scheme of your guest bath... as compared to the transcendent beauty of a van Gogh.

I gave myself 24 hours to steam, to rant, to doubt myself, to hate him (my workshop instructor, not van Gogh), to hate the story, and to generally feel sorry for myself. Then, I said, back to work.

Only I couldn't get back to work.

Anytime I thought about my novel--let alone pulled up the document on my computer--my chest seized with dread. Anything I wrote sounded stilted, self-conscious. Every bit the way I felt. Delete, delete, delete. For a solid month, it was like I forgot that fiction writing is what I most love to do in life. Instead it became a chore. I had never felt that way before. Writer's block?

Okay, yes, maybe. But more than that, it was writer's doubt. At least, it was this writer's doubt. With the dreaded lily image in the back of my mind, I momentarily lost faith in my writing, in myself. A bleak house for that time, indeed.

The cure, for me, came one sunny afternoon about two weeks ago. I carted my laptop into my favorite cafe, telling myself I would WORK for two hours. If all else failed, there was wine. As anticipated, I pulled up my novel and froze. Then I thought, why don't I write about something else? Why don't I loosen up, look away for a minute, and write about what I see?

So I did. I wrote about the cafe's gleaming cement floors and the black and white photos contrasting against the mustard walls. I wrote about the owner of the cafe lecturing two new-hire bakers, and the old woman who was blatantly eavesdropping on their conversation. I wrote about the shiny chrome light fixtures, the unseasonably bright sun streaming through the windows and lighting a young woman's textbook. I wrote two pages. And just like that, I was back.

My advice for anyone suffering a creativity (or productivity) block:

1. Figure out the source of the block. Did it start with a criticism of your work? Are you burned out on a particular project? Is there an unhappy event occurring elsewhere in your life? Knowing when and why the block started is empowering.

2. Give yourself a break. Shut down the computer and go watch a movie. Start another project. Surround yourself with positive people--friends and family who believe in you. Exercise a flabby creativity muscle, like cooking or painting if you're a writer.

3. Inspire yourself. Reread your favorite book and transcribe the passages that most move you. Go to a museum (a van Gogh exhibit, perhaps?). Ride your bike through beautiful scenery.

4. Get back to work. If you flub it, recognize that the mistake/lame metaphor/whatever is not permanent.

5. Now really get back to work.

For the record, I'm 200+ pages into my novel. Two-thirds complete!

Have you ever suffered a block? What did you do to combat it?

12.03.2009. 23:40