Jerusha Bosarge

Wow! Virginia’s essay really spoke to me. I can’t tell you how many times I have set aside a particular time to write, and then wasted it all staring at the blank screen. “Writer’s Block,” they call it, but I think that is a poorly worded cliché. If you truly want to get to the heart of the matter, then “Writer’s Fear” may be a more descriptive phrase. After all, isn’t that really why the words won’t flow?

It is for me, anyway. Rarely is the case when I am truly at a loss for words. Those who know me personally will unanimously attest to this fact. That being the case, I am forced to face the knowledge that the reason I sit and stare, instead of jotting my thoughts on the page, is the constant underlying fear that I am an idiot.

Go ahead and laugh. I know it sounds a bit extreme, but to a certain extent it’s true. The strangest thing about this whole dilemma, though, is that logically I know that I am not an idiot (no further comments required from those who know me personally). I mean, I am certainly no Leonardo da Vinci, but I like to think I can hold my own in a battle of wits (except with my children, in which case I am once again an idiot). So why the fear?

Truthfully, I do not have the answer (Well what did you expect? A scientific breakthrough from a self-proclaimed idiot?). But, after discussing my situation with other writers, I am thrilled to report that I am not the only subconsciously idiotic scribbler out there! In fact, nearly every writer I spoke to about this admits to varying degrees of a similar fear.

Keeping this in mind, I decided to try a few different techniques, suggested by other writers, to help me overcome this obstacle. I have listed the top four techniques most useful to me on the very back of this newsletter for you (not that I think you are an idiot). Use them as you see fit, but if you are anything at all like me, then I want you to know this… although each technique was helpful to the extent of “getting the writing ball rolling” (another badly worded cliché), the therapy that I found most useful of all was a simple conscious acknowledgement of that horrible, word-hampering fear.

In writing this article, I was forced to examine the fear which hindered my progress. In doing so, I somehow managed to strip the fear of its power. As it turns out, it doesn’t even matter if I am, in fact, an idiot! I can still put words onto a page. I may have to edit them brutally later, or even destroy them completely, but the moment of creation is mine and mine alone, and I refuse to fear my own opinion of myself. Instead, I will simply face my “Writer’s Block” for what it truly is, “Writer’s Fear...” then get over it and write on!

1. Make a list. It doesn’t matter what kind of list, really, as long as you are putting a steady stream of words on paper. The point here is to find a way to write in the most primitive fashion possible, using the least amount of creative energy allowed by writing law, in a format that is least likely to be judged or poked fun at by any prying eyes that may be lurking just beyond your left shoulder. After all, who would laugh at someone else’s grocery list?

2. Come up with some titles: In my limited experience, people are rarely ashamed of the general ideas that pop into their heads. It is the process of adding the details to develop these ideas that causes doubt and second guessing. So who cares about the details? For now, just come up with a bunch of cool manuscript, song, or movie titles. Worry about the rest later.

3. Develop your thoughts slowly, in layers: A few of my writing buddies admit that it is the thought of trying to create this “whole big thing” that is intimidating, as they simply don’t know how to make it all come out the way they want it to all at once. But, who does? No one writes it right the first time. That’s what revision is for. For example, say you visit the local art museum and decide to write an descriptive essay inspired by a particular piece. Instead of trying to mow through the text from beginning to end, try simply starting with the facts, and working your way out. What did the painting physically look like. What colors were there. Was it flat or textured, shiny or matte, traditional or abstract, bright or dull, etc. Start with the physical facts, and then embellish them with the rest of your senses in layers. How did it make you feel? Did it remind you of something? Just take it one step at a time, and forget about trying to get it all out perfectly the first time through. It will almost never happen that way.

4. Ensure complete privacy, and get wild with words: If like me, the thing you fear most is someone else’s harsh judgment, then simply write in private. Make a decision to keep your words under lock and key until you feel they are ready to share. Then mold and shape them at your leisure. Be as ridiculous as you want. Misspell every other word, just for the fun of it! Rebel against all “normal” chains of thought, and write something totally off the wall. Close the blinds, lock all the doors, and unlock your writing genius.