I can’t say I have ever turned to a book or site for writer’s block but I know they exist. I imagine the former exist in their droves and have countless visits and impressive daily statistics. As for books well, I am also certain that on many a shelf there are copies of someone’s advice on what to do when you get stuck. In life there is a lot of money to be made from getting stuck.
What I have been feeling over the last six days has been a kind of writer’s block but not the full blown effect and not enough to have deterred me from my novel (yes, it is still going). Bloggers block is what I feel and it less to do with having nothing to say and more to do with being unable to generate in myself the need to say it.
I suppose that’s an obvious definition. Having nothing to say isn’t a block necessarily it is to be at a complete loss. There’s a difference.
Writers like to read about writer’s block because it, I’m guessing, provides a sense of comfort that they are not alone; it might even offer up some solutions. In writing this I don’t feel I will be helping anyone nor will I be able to, or want to for that matter, profit from it. So what’s the point in writing it?
I’d like to understand what bloggers blog is and whether I am alone in experiencing it. Actually, I don’t know if this is bloggers blog because I have never read about so I could be feeling something else more ambivalent and just have assigned it this name. Perhaps I am no different and am, in my own way, ‘cashing’ in on the idea of temporary incapability.
What I’m feeling isn’t a shortage of ideas. It feels like something close to indiscipline. Rebellion against my own blog, against my own work.
A couple of weeks ago I worked out a schedule for this site which would enable me to post every day while actually getting out to interact and engage with others. Blogging every day can mean sacrificing a lot of time and I have found that as well as leaving me short on time with others, which I don’t really mind, it has also squeezed my novel writing time. Yet, I enjoy it and want to post as frequently as I do.
With a schedule in place I should have known what would happen because I am so prone to it in other aspects of my life. When blogging and posting suddenly became easy, I instantly felt dogged by the temptation to chuck it all in or at least to make it far more difficult for myself. You’ll see that I missed some days over the last two weeks even though I had planned out what I’d like to say.
Is it only when things are difficult that I feel attracted to them and feel a compulsion to see them through?
It fits with how I feel about travelling: that arriving in the destination is nothing compared with looking at it online or in photos beforehand. I live things in advance I think and when they arrive and all that is left is to enjoy the work put in to arrive in said destination, I feel let down.
The difficulty is how I know it matters to me. Maybe I am enjoying this state of feeling blocked then? Whether or not I will turn around tomorrow and delete everything I have written remains to be seen. It would quite like to me to feel as if reaching a place where things have settled into a pattern means that I am not working hard enough and to want to invite more difficulty into my life.
Off into Paris now. I like being able to say that.