thank you for your Words on struggling with the 'block'. there is a time for casting out your roots and absorbing quietly. and there is a time for the decisive moment of sprouting, sheath-wet, and bending toward the light. as writers, we are constantly photosynthesising ourselves. we would never doubt the oak or the birch’s strength in a dry season, but why our own? we would simply say that they are conserving, they are taking time: that they are very clever for it. we know they will bloom the next Spring. the only difference between us and the trees is that we are the roots, the sun, the soil, and the rain. follow and trust your cycle. you are drawing from ancient places. the heart knows.
i do love Toni Morrison’s timeless advice on writer’s block.
“When I sit down in order to write, sometimes it’s there; sometimes it’s not. But that doesn’t bother me anymore. I tell my students there is such a thing as “writer’s block,” and they should respect it. You shouldn’t write through it. It’s blocked because it ought to be blocked, because you haven’t got it right now. All the frustration and nuttiness that comes from “Oh, my God, I cannot write now” should be displaced. It’s just a message to you saying, “That’s right, you can’t write now, so don’t.” We operate with deadlines, so facing the anxiety about the block has become a way of life. We get frightened about the fear. I can’t write like that. If I don’t have anything to say for three or four months, I just don’t write.
When I read a book, I can always tell if the writer has written through a block. If he or she had just waited, it would have been better or different, or a little more natural. You can see the seams. I always know the story when I’m working on a book. That’s not difficult. Anybody can think up a story. But trying to breathe life into characters, allow them space, make them people whom I care about is hard. I only have 26 letters of the alphabet; I don’t have color or music. I must use my craft to make the reader see the colors and hear the sounds.”
thank you for your Words on struggling with the 'block'. there is a time for casting out your roots and absorbing quietly. and there is a time for the decisive moment of sprouting, sheath-wet, and bending toward the light. as writers, we are constantly photosynthesising ourselves. we would never doubt the oak or the birch’s strength in a dry season, but why our own? we would simply say that they are conserving, they are taking time: that they are very clever for it. we know they will bloom the next Spring. the only difference between us and the trees is that we are the roots, the sun, the soil, and the rain. follow and trust your cycle. you are drawing from ancient places. the heart knows.
i do love Toni Morrison’s timeless advice on writer’s block.
“When I sit down in order to write, sometimes it’s there; sometimes it’s not. But that doesn’t bother me anymore. I tell my students there is such a thing as “writer’s block,” and they should respect it. You shouldn’t write through it. It’s blocked because it ought to be blocked, because you haven’t got it right now. All the frustration and nuttiness that comes from “Oh, my God, I cannot write now” should be displaced. It’s just a message to you saying, “That’s right, you can’t write now, so don’t.” We operate with deadlines, so facing the anxiety about the block has become a way of life. We get frightened about the fear. I can’t write like that. If I don’t have anything to say for three or four months, I just don’t write.
When I read a book, I can always tell if the writer has written through a block. If he or she had just waited, it would have been better or different, or a little more natural. You can see the seams. I always know the story when I’m working on a book. That’s not difficult. Anybody can think up a story. But trying to breathe life into characters, allow them space, make them people whom I care about is hard. I only have 26 letters of the alphabet; I don’t have color or music. I must use my craft to make the reader see the colors and hear the sounds.”