Archive for the ‘Writer’s Block’ Category

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Breaking Thru Writers Block: “Honey, where’s the kayak?”

August 11, 2011

I spent two weeks at the family cottage up north and was able to break through some serious plot points. KERPOW! I had been struggling with these various knotted, tangled plot nubs for some time, trying to massage and release them, and all of a sudden, they literally unfurled in my hands like rose buds. I got it!

And what was my secret, you ask?

Well, I simply hopped in the kayak, and paddled around the island to the marsh. There I would float, looking at all the water lilies bobbing on the water, listening to the wind in the trees, watching dragonflies land here and there (most of them copulating, one on top of the other) and slapping away the occasional horse fly…

The family cottage is quite remote and on a lake with only a few cottages. In the middle of the week, it’s dead quiet. Quiet enough that you can float in the water, hear nothing but nature, and think nothing but…plot.

The question is…now that I’m back in the big, bad city, how do I recapture that sense of stillness so that I can focus and work through the writing issues I need to work through?

Sure, there’s nature around here. I have a garden. The city has parks. But its just not the same. For one thing, it’s…noisy.

I know I am able to tune the noise out. In the past, I’ve proven myself an excellent mutli-tasker. If you need someone to cook, clean, come up with a character for a scene in 19th century Bath, while simultaneously writing an entry on Facebook & Twitter, reading a library book about a crime in ancient Rome, stopping a fight between a 4 & 6 year old over an old Happy Meal toy that neither really wants and asking the hubby what colour to paint the bathroom…then I’m your woman! I have done it. I CAN do it.

But sometimes I can’t. And locking myself in the bathroom with my laptop while shouting at everyone to BE QUIET just isn’t the way to solve the problem.

If only the kayak would fit in the bathtub…?

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Writer’s Guilt

February 4, 2011

I’ve been taking a break from my novel lately. Partly, this is because I had the flu for a week. And partly, this is because we…um…(facial tick happening) we…uh…(eyes are darting around nervously) we really just needed a break.

Alright. You got me. I’m lying!

I’m not taking a break! I’m avoiding the damn thing! I’m running away. I’m In Hiding. I’ve put on my camouflage, I’m ducking and covering and sneaking past the computer on tip toe, shushing everybody: Be Quiet! Don’t wake it up!

And for that I am suffering a serious bout of Writer’s Guilt. Uhg.

Come on. You know that feeling. The I-am-supposed-to-be-writing-but-instead-think-organizing-my-socks-is-infinitely-more-interesting-and-its-not-just-so-my-hands-can-be-busy-while-I–mediate-on-my-plot-problems sort of feeling.

It’s avoidance, pure and simple.

Every writer knows deep inside when they need to take a break from their writing (to let the ideas settle, to gain perspective, to mull things over) and when they are out and out procrastinating.

Why? That is the question to answer. I know I love my characters. I know I love the process of creation. I know I want to finish it. I just can’t seem to get near it right now without feeling like a skittish filly.

Why? Perhaps I’m intimidated by how much work I have left to do. Perhaps my Inner Critic is overly active right now and I’m feeling sensitive.

Still, I need to jump back in. I need to re-read where I’ve been, get back in the vibe, maybe do a bit of free flow writing, just play and let the ideas come, the writing equivalent of jazz.

The remedy? Face my fears, I guess. JUST DO IT.

And I will. I promise. Maybe once this episode of Murdock Mysteries is over…

Oops. Nope. I better take care of this now.

My novel is barking at me. I better let it back in the house.

PS. Writers,  how do you overcome Writer’s Guilt?

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Blah Blah Boring

September 24, 2010

I’ve a character in my novel who needs to explain a few things to the heroine. He needs to tell about what happened when he went to the Red Lion Inn a few days ago…its very important to the plot, so it must be done. This information must be revealed and he has to tell her . It can’t come across in flashbacks or a dream sequence or any other writer-trick, because the book’s written in the heroine’s voice, first person. He tells her the news and she tells the reader, and, of course, she reacts and converses back at him and tells the reader all about that, too.

Sounds simple?

No.

It’s actually quite painful to write an explanation. Though necessary, the detail is tedious and it feels like it takes too long to impart. I’ve tried breaking it down into chunks, and delivering it via dialogue, interspersed with the heroines’ wry observations and her own lively reactions, but still it comes across like some kind of boring legal document, overloaded with detail after detail:

And so, in part a, subsection i, sub-subsection 1.0, the man then followed the other man down the street to the physicians.

In part a, subsection i, sub-section 1.1, the man waited outside the physician’s house for the man to reappear…

Either that, or I have a bad case of the “and then’s”, such as:

And then he followed him down the street. And then he waited outside. And then he saw a body being carried to a horse cart. And then…

ARG! How do I make this explanation less boring? Any and all suggestions greatly appreciated!

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Drawing Blanks

June 21, 2010

I sat down to write today…to write anything: a scene in my novel, a blog, a tweet…and it was BLANK. Completely and utterly blank.

There is a moment of pure panic when this happens.

Even though I’ve been a writer for a very long time, and I understand the ebb & flow, the ying & yang, the highs & lows, the blocked & unblocked–how writing is circular, spiral, dashes and peaks & valleys but rarely a smooth, straight line–there is still a part of me that worries the writing is going to STOP.

Full stop. Never to return again.

Of course, just as I’m about to start wailing & bemoaning that ‘the writing is gone forever’…an idea comes to me….proving my fears unjustified…

At least until the next time….

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(It’s not you, it’s me…) Taking a Break

June 14, 2010

Sometimes I argue with my writing—and it argues back.

When this happens, I know it’s time to take a break.

A relationship is meant to be fluid. Sometimes you can’t get enough of each other, you cling to each other like a vine to a trellis (oh my darling, never, ever leave me!). Other times, you are too easily irritated by each other (Writer: You’ve too many adverbs. Writing: And you’re breathing down my neck!)

Sometimes you just need space. Go water the garden. Let the computer/notebook bask in silence for awhile. Then come back and see each other with refreshed eyes. Maybe that will help you hold hands again.

Sometimes you just need a break.

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Unblocked! Sound the Trumpets!

May 20, 2010

So I was finally able to decide: no Scottish brogue for Mr. H’s father.

How did I figure it out, you ask? What is the great method for discerning what should and should not go in a novel?

I have no bloody idea! It just sort of happens.

Yes, that is a weak answer. And I know there are instructional texts and courses out there that will tell one in great detail ‘What Every Good Novel Needs’. They might even propose some kind of formula: plot + character + eye of newt + turn twice clockwise = novel. Or some such thing.

But my main question seems to be: does it ‘feel’ right?

Honestly, I’m writing this thing by the seat of my pants. Intuitively. Mine is the ‘touchy feel-y’ approach.

And when I’m ‘in touch’ I can write. When I’m not ‘in touch’, I can’t–which is my definition of writer’s block.

Luckily, I got in touch today and the decree from on high was: no brogue. Progress! Yes!

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Blocked!

May 17, 2010



Still can’t decide: Scottish brogue or no? In the scene or out? Can’t get a handle on it. My writing mind is as blocked as my sinus cavities. Stupid cold! Stupid writer’s block!

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The Fog Rolls In

May 11, 2010



I’ve got a bad cold and my brain has become a bland macaroni salad.

I can’t think clearly about anything.

I certainly can’t think clearly about my current writing dilemmas—like if Mr. H’s father should have a Scottish brogue.

Should Mr. H’s father even be in this scene? Should he even be in my novel?

What is he doing here? Why does he need to be Scottish?

Heck, I don’t know.

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