The Writer’s Block Problem
You’re committed. You’re diligent, aiming for at least 1500 words a day. The habit’s embedded.
Then it happens. You sit down, wth writing motivation in 5th gear. But the words stall. You rifle through the week’s drafts, trying to pull a thought off the lay-away shelf. Unsuccessful, anger brews, feeding Poindexter—Inner Critic Dude. Not. Good.
Some folks encourage a march on, little soldier motif. Others insist inspiration WILL blossom IF you sit steadfast. Other purported solutions simply vary the same stick with it mantra. Me no think so! Those alleged remedies only stir the soup of my discontent.
Tackling the Writer’s Block Dilemma
Seat-of-the-pants episodes schooled me: take the writer’s block and run with da sucka! My standard reaction involves movement. I mozy up the steps, disrobing along the way. Back in the shower for a quickie drench, despite the earlier shower.
Why? It hits my senses, delivering a series of body blows to that block. As I exit and reach for the towel, I ask Alexa to play my Covers playlist. Motown-tinged hits from the 60s through the 80s—sans vocals—boogie into a soothing smooth-jazz-flavored ear festival. Thank you, Spotify.
Dressing, thoughts focus on which park I’ll hit with my trusty Nikon p900. I don’t give a blipblop ’bout writing. Writing got me into this mess. I crave a momentary escape, giving my body and spirit a definitive reason to soar.
After uttering a curt Alexa, stop, I’m back down the stairs, grabbing my iPhone with one hand, car keys with the other. Camera bag slung over shoulder? ✅
I plug the phone into my 2008 sports car’s after-market-installed CarPlay. The Covers playlist morphs me into Mellow Fellow as I exit the garage. I stop, thrusting the stick into Park, just long enough to drop the top.
This day, I’ve chosen Raleigh’s Lake Wheeler. Side roads; minimal traffic. Removing my sunglasses, I exit the car. My eyes dance over the surroundings, searching for any hint of any bird. I stroll toward the humongous lake. Movement induces relaxation, triggering a flood of potential writing subjects. I tap my Apple Watch. Using Just Press Record, I dictate the thoughts, knowing the searchable transcript will greet me on my iPad.
Bingo! A Great Blue Heron, in the distance. In a nod to yet another lesson in patience, I strategically position myself, step one of the bird photography waiting game. Within minutes, the heron flies closer, landing in a prime photo shoot spot. Lift the camera. Tweak the settings. Aim. Machine-gun clicks. And then, it’s over. The bird takes flight, as does my writing mojo.
A cutie pie gosling interrupts my race back to the car. A few snaps later, an intense feeling of accomplishment washes away the morning’s you trifling %#% self-talk. Negativity banished, the air coddles me during the return ride home. Entering, I trigger Alexa: play my Writing Groove playlist. The music, combined with the morning’s quickie venture with Nature’s Dope, knee-jerks anxious fingers, now primed to attack a keyboard.