Break free!

Sometimes the more you try to write, the harder it is to write. Two days ago, I found myself in this rut. Since my last post, I had been working on a chapter that didn’t want to come into being. I would write a sentence and then spend hours researching. When the research wasn’t fruitful, I drifted to checking social media and other writing-related accounts. The progress was like molasses.

Admittedly, it wasn’t an easy topic. It takes place in medieval Baghdad, which no longer exists, in a hospital that we don’t know much about, dealing with medieval medical practices that are foreign and antiquated. The main action is the breech birth of a child. The research was interesting, but not particularly helpful. Childbirth now, in our modern sterile hospitals with all our knowledge and science, is graphic. In medieval times, it was a nightmare. I don’t mind writing about the darker sides of life, but I don’t want to disgust my readers either. And although the chapter’s main character is not new, she’s grown over the ensuing years, and I don’t have a bead on that yet. All told, I wasn’t starting this section in a good place and I was trying to force it onto the page when it just wasn’t ready to come. This isn’t my first rodeo, and I know it will happen, but in its own time.

When writing, it is hard to keep this situation from happening. There are a lot of drivers in making a writer write. Some of them are good (like the love of writing), but a lot of them are not (like wanting to sell books). Those negative influences creep in and taint things pretty quickly. Before you know it, your love becomes something you fear or even despise. Often, you don’t see it happening until you’re in full-blown writer’s block, the arch-nemesis of all writers. It took my wife and her infinite wisdom to yank me from the doldrums and force me to take a break. As I sat here all tense and engrossed in moving a story forward that was clearly stuck, she could see the demon growing on my shoulders when I could not.

It only took a day of (forced) complete separation. No writing, no looking at social media, and certainly no checking to see if I sold any copies of my other books (always depressing). It was actually a big relief. Just being told that I could step away and that it was ok that I didn’t write was enough for the tension to ease. The next day I had my path forward, and I was putting pages down again completely refreshed. I decided to just go around this problematic chapter and write what I know. I mean, it’s my book, why did I feel like I needed to write the chapters in order? It was strange. I was so focused on cracking that puzzle that I was letting it hold up the rest of the show.

I guess what I’m saying is that sometimes a writer must step away for a bit to let the pressure release. Its like trying to get a stuck ring off your finger. The harder you pull, the more difficult it is, but when you relax, it slides right off. I know, this is easier said than done. Sometimes it feels like that ring will be stuck forever and you panic. That’s why a writer should strive to be mindful of those cues that its time to take a break. Obviously, I’m not exactly there yet, but I’m learning. Luckily, my wife is here and not afraid to yank me away, even if I kick and scream a bit. Remember, the story is not going anywhere if it’s worth telling, and it will find its way to the world in its own damn time.

Cheers!