It was 1:45 a.m. and my two year old was awake with croup.
His cough sounded like a seal bark, his breathing was noisy and wheezy. We turned on the hot water in our shower to let the bathroom steam up, but that didn’t seem to help him much (it did, however, set off the smoke alarm which set off the house alarm. Fun.)
We decided to head to the emergency room and proceeded to spend six hours there while they gave him a steroid and then a breathing treatment.
I was running on fumes and two hours of sleep when we got home later that morning and, during his nap, decided to write this week’s blog post. It was supposed to be about beta readers – how to find them and when to use them.
But after struggling with the post for a little while, I realized it wasn’t the topic I wanted to write for this week with a very foggy, overwhelmed brain.
Instead, I wanted to tell you that for the last couple of months, writing has not felt easy for me.
For pretty much the entire month of April, I dealt with some excruciating, near-constant physical pain related to my autoimmune disease. I’ve certainly been in this boat before: when something painful and all-consuming happens with my health, writing falls by the wayside.
Pain is incredibly distracting. And sometimes creativity feels futile when health issues flare up.
However, I’ve still been writing blog posts and emails to my subscribers (are you on my list? If you sign up, you’ll get some great freebies!) because my desire to help other writers is greater than my physical issues.
I’ve also been writing pieces for my freelance work because I have deadlines and those pieces/clients matter a lot to me.
But lately, when I sit down to work on the final 10,000-ish words my novel, I simply… can’t.
I’m so close to the end of this first draft, and yet I feel totally paralyzed.
The strange part is that, in the midst of all this trouble writing, my short story was published. I’m SO happy it’s out in the world, and SO guilt-ridden that I’m in the middle of a creative drought.
Because honestly, that’s how it feels. My creative well is dry.
I feel like I should be so high off of seeing my first short story in print that it should propel me to finish revisions on another story and complete my novel draft. But that’s not the case, and I hate it.
I share this not to whine or complain, but to let you know that if you’re in the same place with your writing, you’re not alone. And it’ll pass.
Even though I know this from experience and I do believe this is just part of the ebbing and flowing of a creative life, it’s still really hard to feel resistance. I know all the practical ways to get past resistance and I’m well-versed in the tactics that work for me.
And yet…
Here we are. Here I am. Writing every week about making the most of your writing life while feeling stuck within my own. Wanting to help you finish all your beautiful, brilliant stories while feeling unable to do the same myself right now.
It’s ok, though. I truly do believe that!
It’s not necessary to constantly be productive. There are seasons with writing, as with most things in life. There are periods of time when the words will flow and times when they won’t, and the key to fending off total discouragement is to remember this will pass.
So while I wait it out, I’ll keep writing these posts for you and keep returning to the page and trying to make fiction happen.
Eventually, it’ll feel right again. It always does.
If you’re in a similar position, let me know in the comments what your biggest struggle is and how you’re dealing.
Once upon a time, I was a short story writer who dreamed of one day writing a novel.
During my MFA program, I wrote many short stories. That was my area of focus and I felt like I had a good handle on the form.
I occasionally dabbled in writing novels, particularly during National Novel Writing Month, but couldn’t get any of my novels off the ground and assumed I was better suited to short pieces that could be contained more easily.
For a long time, I was strictly a short story-ist.
Then, in 2014, my autoimmune disease flared up so badly that I could barely walk, eat, or function. I lived in a constant state of fatigue. I’d work my remote job all day (thank goodness I didn’t have a commute), and then have just enough energy to fall asleep by 7 pm.
In short, I wasn’t writing.
When things started to level off and I felt better, my husband and I went on a trip to Bermuda. It was exactly what my spirit needed to recharge after months of feeling horrible.
We came home from Bermuda and I was ready to channel some of my energy into writing again. I was desperate, actually. So I started scribbling out ideas for short stories set in Bermuda since the island had fully captivated me.
Everything I wrote felt like cardboard: flimsy and bland and not at all what I was trying to say.
I had a feeling I needed to spend some time warming up before I tried writing anything concrete. So I set out to write for 100 days straight and worked through my favorite writing program, The Story Course, while doing so.
Eventually, I did an exercise that triggered a scene that I couldn’t shake from my mind. Each time I went to my notebook after that, I wrote more about it.
This went on for a month when I realized the short story I thought I was writing was actually something much bigger.
The problem was, I’d never had any luck with writing a novel before. All of my NaNoWriMo novels had been terrible and my focus in grad school had been short fiction.
I had no clue how to write a novel, especially when I’d done zero preparation!
But honestly, I didn’t have time to stop and doubt it very much. The scenes were coming to me as if channeled. I was writing for 100 consecutive days and truly didn’t have a chance to second guess what I was doing.
I just… wrote.
It sounds too obvious and wildly unhelpful, but hear me out. I think this is a great approach to writing a novel.
I’d tried writing many books before this one and with those, I’d done research and created outlines. And they still failed.
This time, it was as if the idea had been a passing train that I happened to see and jump onto just in time. If I’d been looking the other way, the train would’ve passed by and found another passenger.
I had no idea where it was going, but I was riding the train to the end of the line even though I hadn’t expected to write such a long story.
The magic formula of writing that novel was:
- Being committed to writing consistently. This allowed the idea to show up and grab my attention.
- Writing without judgment or expectation. Instead of asking myself what I was doing, questioning if it was a good idea, or stopping myself for some silly reason (like not knowing enough information about the time period, not being prepared enough with an outline, not knowing the ending, etc), I just wrote.
- Staying open to write what I felt excited to write. Rather than follow an outline, I let the story dictate what I wrote next. I let myself enjoy the process and just put words on the page. I knew I could fix it later as long as I wrote what most intrigued me in the moment.
So what can you do if you’re writing a short piece that wants to be a novel?
Trust your instinct that it should be a long piece
If you have the sense that there’s more story to tell than you want to put in a short story, believe that instinct. You can always cut it back later.
I personally think it’s better to explore a story to its fullest potential instead of deciding initially that a story won’t work a certain way. You never know what’ll be revealed as you write.
Resist the urge to control the process
The biggest mistake I made when writing this novel was trying to wrangle the process about a month into writing.
Once I realized I was writing something longer than a short story, I thought I needed to create an outline and pack the story into a neat box.
As soon as I started outlining, I felt a physical sensation of resistance. It was a contracting, shrinking feeling of dread. I knew outlining would be a feeble attempt at controlling something that I didn’t need to control.
So I tossed the outline and kept writing what interested me. The story revealed itself the more I wrote, and while I did have to do a lot of organizing later to put it all in order, I fully enjoyed the process.
And, amazingly, the one time I didn’t try to control my writing with an outline turned out to be the one time I completed a novel and didn’t hate it by the end!
Read novels carefully and study what makes them work
You can take classes (I’m a big fan of always learning) about certain aspects of writing, but sometimes the best way to learn is to study the form itself.
Read all the novels you can get your hands on and pay close attention to what the writer is doing and how they achieve it.
What do you like the most about your favorite novels? Why do you love them? What is it about the structure, the story itself, the character development that resonates with you?
I also highly recommend the book The Plot Whisperer by Martha Alderson to everyone writing a novel. Even if you’re not writing a novel, it’s still a great read.
The reason I recommend it is because Alderson shows you exactly how a story works. She goes into great depth about character development and how that development happens through story arc.
Once I read this book and underlined almost every single page, something clicked for me that hadn’t clicked before. Story shape made much more sense.
And, honestly, the next novel I wrote was a much more organized process because I had a clear sense of my story’s shape and progress thanks to The Plot Whisperer.
Just keep writing
This is the best advice I can give you when a short piece starts to feel like it should be a long piece. Just keep writing. As long as you have a thread to pull, keep pulling.
Don’t force it for the sake of making the story a novel, but if you have a spark of excitement about what you’re writing, follow that with as much judgment-free curiosity as possible.
You may not know what you’re really creating until you’ve put it all on the page, so don’t stop writing too soon.
Have you ever started writing something only to realize it was meant to be a longer piece than you expected? What did you do?
We all know about the “shitty first draft.”
This concept says your first draft of anything is always going to be bad, no matter what.
I understand where this idea comes from, but I’ve always had a little trouble with it.
It’s true that first drafts are often a meandering, disorganized experience and the end result is far from polished. But after writing two novels and many short stories over the last decade of my writing life, I have a different take on first drafts.
I don’t believe that a first draft is inherently awful. Far from it, actually.
First Drafts Are Messy, Not Shitty
Instead of proclaiming all first drafts are shitty, we should actually make a clear distinction between a piece of writing that’s messy and one that is truly shitty. Because… there’s a huge difference.
Shitty is bad. It means unworthy, unimportant, meh. Not worth your time.
Your first draft, that thing you spend hours and weeks and maybe even years of your life working on, is far from unworthy.
Yeah, you’re not going to take your first draft directly to an agent without even giving it a second read and try to pitch it, but that doesn’t mean it’s inherently bad. It just means it’s messy and unpolished.
The First Draft Is Your Chance To Try It All
OF COURSE your first draft is a mess!
If you’re taking full advantage of the landscape of a first draft, it means you try everything.
Every idea that seems remotely important, every style of writing that feels good, every character you want to explore. You do it all, try it all, write it all.
Because so much is going on in a first draft, it’s often a bit of a mess. But that’s truly the point!
You only get one shot at a first try, when the story is brand new and exciting and has ALL the potential in the world. You SHOULD be making a mess while you’re figuring it out.
Second and third and fourth drafts will require you to refine your vision and scope, but in a first draft, you’re free to play.
Don’t save anything for later. Put it all on the page and let future-you deal with cleaning it up.
Give Yourself Permission To Make A Mess While Still Writing Well
Part of what I hate about the “shitty first draft” is that it feels like a cop-out for lazy writing.
I think that even in a messy, uncertain, disorganized first draft, you should still write with care.
When you respect your writing, you want to do it well even when you’re making a mess.
Give yourself permission to write a messy draft while still caring about craft. You can write something that needs to be totally overhauled later but still pay close attention to the way you’re building the story.
The macro of your story might be a mess, but that doesn’t mean the micro needs to be thrown together carelessly.
Sure, maybe later you’ll have to fix some typos or grammar and tense issues. That’s simple enough.
I’m talking about the way you describe things in your story, the choices you make about dialogue and sentence structure and language. You can still give those elements of writing all your care even if the piece itself needs a lot of work.
I believe the more you love the sentences you’ve written, the more you’ll care about revision later anyway.
When you care about what’s inside your house, you want to make it as structurally sound as possible, right? Same idea with your writing!
Stop Trashing Your Work, Period
It might feel logical or safe to qualify your work as a shitty first draft when you share it with others for feedback, but I think it’s time we stopped trashing our own work.
Remember, calling something shitty is akin to saying it’s bad and unworthy. Why would anyone want to read something you claim is bad?
Here are some other things you can say about your newest work instead:
This is a brand new story, so I’m still working out some kinks, but I’m proud of it so far!
I haven’t done a round of revision yet, but I’d love to hear your thoughts on this draft.
The story as a whole is a little messy still, but that’s because it’s the first draft.
I’m so excited to start my next draft and see how much stronger this piece will be after revision.
It really doesn’t serve you or anyone who reads your work if you’re in a self-deprecating mindset when it comes to your first drafts, so try changing how you talk about your work entirely.
Let other people know it’s still early, but you’re proud of what you created so far. There’s no shame in that!
What are your first drafts like? Do you make a mess and enjoy the process?
Tell me below!
If you’re like most creative people I know, you’ve likely felt waves of doubt before.
Maybe they’ve been small waves, like wondering if a particular sentence should stay in the story or not.
Or maybe they’ve been huge ones, like questioning your entire life as a writer.
You’re absolutely not alone in this. I’ve had to literally talk myself out of doubt-spirals in the middle of writing sessions!
I’ll sometimes be in the middle of working on a scene and feel a creeping sense of dread that tells me everything I’m doing is wrong.
This little voice says, “Who will even want to read this? It’s so boring. It sounds amateur. This has all been done before. Who am I to try and write a book? I don’t know enough to tell this story. etc etc etc”
I’m sure you know the drill! Here are some of the best things I do for myself when I start to doubt my writing.
Take A Break
Sometimes, for me, doubt happens when I’m so deep in a project I can’t really tell what I’m doing anymore.
Mostly I experience this when I hit the middle or end of a novel, or when I’m doing a revision that requires big changes.
It’s a lot like walking a long trail in the woods.
For a while, you can look back and see where you came from, but at some point, the path becomes overgrown. You look back and see only trees. You look ahead and see the same.
You start to wonder if you’re even going in the right direction anymore. It seems like you are, but then again, there are a dozen other paths that also look right. But they also kind of look wrong. It’s so hard to tell.
So you question your instincts, you start to doubt what you’re doing, and before you know it, you’re ready to quit.
When it starts to feel like this, I take a break from writing. Even a short break will help, whatever short might mean for you.
The idea is to put some space between you and the work so you’re not tangled up in it. Once you do that…
Look At Your Writing Objectively
Sometimes a feeling of doubt is actually your instinct telling you something is off, but it isn’t telling you what, exactly.
If there’s a chance your feeling of doubt is related to something on a story or craft-level versus a false sense of inadequacy, try to look at your work objectively.
A few days or weeks away from your writing will help you read the piece with fresh eyes. Try to read it as though someone else wrote it and consider if there’s something amiss that you can later fix, or if the piece is truly a lost cause.
Spoiler alert: it’s almost ALWAYS a matter of something you can fix in revision.
And if it turns out it’s not, and the piece really needs to be scrapped, it’s still better to look at that decision objectively rather than make it a negative commentary on your ability to write.
Get A Second Opinion
This is the easiest and fastest thing you can do, and if this isn’t reason enough for you to have a writing group, I don’t know what is!
Get yourself a second opinion from a trusted writer (or writers) in your life.
Ask the writers in your life to help you determine if your doubt is pointing to something you should fix within your story or if it’s actually true that you’re a fraud who will never amount to anything.
(I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this!)
A good writer friend will always help you see things clearly.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gone to my writing group with major doubts about my skills, my story, my life as a writer in general. They listen, validate, and give me a reality check every time.
And this isn’t about seeking people who will only tell you what you want to hear!
This is about allowing someone else to help you see your doubt for what it is. It’s almost never true that a nagging feeling of doubt means you should burn your whole writing life to the ground.
It almost always means you’re a normal writer experiencing a normal human emotion.
One thing to keep in mind is that most writers who are truly bad never doubt themselves. Usually, self-doubt is reserved for the writers who don’t need to be so critical of themselves.
And at the end of the day, don’t be afraid of living with a little bit of doubt.
You can FEEL it and still write whatever you want. Just because the feeling is there doesn’t mean it’s a signal to stop.
Tell me below what you do when you start to doubt your writing.
Is there anything in particular that helps with your self-doubt?
I have mixed feelings about writer’s block.
On the one hand, there have been times when writing has been impossible for me. I’ve actually felt the physical sensation of my words being blocked.
It’s like having an unscalable wall between the desire to write and the act of writing and not knowing what to do to move past it.
On the other hand, though, I know for sure that there are countless ways around and under and through that blocked feeling. It doesn’t have to stop you from doing your work.
While I do believe that the feeling of writer’s block is real, I don’t think it’s something that has legitimate power over writers. And I do think it’s fairly easy to defeat.
Here are some ways to do it.
See It For What It is
The paralyzing feeling of writer’s block is often a result of fear, boredom, insecurity, indecision or some other factor that brings your writing to a screeching halt. It’s uncomfortable and frustrating and sometimes feels endless.
But recognizing writer’s block for what it is — a form of mental resistance — can help end it fast.
Instead of letting writer’s block say something about who you are as a person, see it as a temporary condition you can work around.
It’s not a personal failure if you don’t feel like you can write right now.
It’s a moment in time where you must actively help yourself write. It’s temporary, and it’s just a hurdle you can overcome by taking deliberate actions.
Do The Opposite Of What Writer’s Block Tells You
It’s easy to feel complacent when writer’s block strikes. The block is telling you not to write because (insert false reason here) and your instinct might be to follow those instructions.
But don’t! That’s how perfectly good months or years of writing time slip away from a person, lost forever to a made-up affliction.
The only way the resistance wins is if you DON’T write. So putting even one sentence down on paper is a win for you and brings you a tiny bit closer to not feeling blocked.
When your writer’s block says don’t write, do the opposite. Write about anything you can for just a few minutes. Start small, but take action in the opposite direction of the resistance.
Address Other Factors Outside Of Writing
There’s a difference between depression, anxiety, or generally feeling sad versus having writer’s block. I want to make that distinction clear.
If you feel your writer’s block is a result of another issue, like a mental health problem or high stress levels or a medical condition, give yourself a break. It’s ok to cut yourself some slack, put writing on the backburner, and take care of yourself.
For many of us, ongoing health issues definitely play a role in our ability to write. I have a chronic autoimmune disease that sometimes causes fatigue, brain fog, and other physical issues that completely distract me from writing.
This is not writer’s block.
Writer’s block is rooted in a false belief we carry about our writing and/or our capabilities. Writer’s block is not a medical condition. It’s a way we feel resistance.
So if you do have a medical condition to contend with and it impacts your writing life, go easy on yourself. It’s ok to take time off from writing to get well.
If All Else Fails, Try Something New
Sometimes writer’s block is so intense it’s hard to fathom writing even a few sentences. Or maybe you can write a few sentences, but over time you realize it doesn’t help anything.
I don’t think it’s worth the energy to force yourself to do something over and over again if it feels lousy. Try something else instead.
There’s no law that says you have to overcome writer’s block by writing.
In fact, I think one of the best ways to get over a creative block is to do something besides write.
And not just any old thing, but something deliberate. Something that you think will give you a creative spark or some new ideas you can incorporate into your work.
See a play or a concert. Go to an open mic night and listen to others read their writing. Take a class. Learn a new skill that requires the use of your hands, like hand lettering or woodworking or knitting. Find a local museum (RISD is amazing if you’re in Rhode Island!) and spend a few hours wandering around.
You get the idea. Sometimes it takes a different approach than writing to overcome a bout of writer’s block.
And if all else fails, you can always spend the extra time reading. Eventually, you’ll find your way back to your writing!
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