I may have talked about it before (I think? Hell if I know) about writer’s block, and the best way to overcome it being incrementalism (complete one small task, and then pick up on that momentum).
But what *is* writer’s block, or analysis paralysis, exactly? And why does it feel like the creative version of trying to digest two Chipotle burritos, I had a BOGO coupon and I don’t need your fucking judgment, Linda.
Writer’s block manifests itself to me not just with writing, but life in general. It’s when I’m left to make a decision, one where I either A) am fearful it’s going to have unintended consequences B) I’m going to lose something C) I’m going to have to let someone down or D) a mix of all the above.
Sometimes these decisions keep me up at night, and other days (what I’d like to revolutionarily moniker “Decision Days”) I can fire off 3-5 big decisions and be entirely happy with them.
A life full of reflective moments would be absolutely paralyzing, much as a life full of Decision Days would be absolutely reckless. I think I lean a little too much towards reflective moments, because it feels like things can get stagnant and then it’s a year and I bought a car I was going to fix up and it’s still sitting in the driveway and all I’ve done was wash it twice and pay the registration.
Another factor is I despise disappointing people. I mean, no one enjoys it, but I am probably oversensitive to it to the point where I anticipate disappointment that doesn’t even happen. As a result, I limit decisions to ones that, if they’re going to be destructive, are bombproofed to only be self-destructive. Nobody’s saying this is a winning strategy, but it is what it is.
And then we come upon the core issue – writer’s block. There’s the same issues at play – fear of disappointing people, of doing something wrong, of closing doors, and so on. So many of the world’s greatest writers are considered that not because of measurable skill but because they either had the balls or the outright liquid courage to put that pen to paper.
I have unceasing envy (anxiety settles in at this specific moment in trying to remember if I used that phrase before) for those who wake up in the morning and are “do stuff and break shit” people. I want to know what their interior monologue is. Are they in a state of permanent terror, or does their inside reflect their open brashness?
Others adopt a “what’s done is done” attitude, which seems like it gets you through the short term but doesn’t allow you to learn from your mistakes.
Other people surprise me with how entirely unaware they are of all of these monologues going on.
And the rest of us are sitting behind a keyboard, a pen, a typewriter, a closed door before a meeting, a scrolling monitor, a desk, or a cup of tea on an end table, roiled by fear but outwardly inert, trying to calculate the angle to strike the match to light the fire that drives us forward.
