Writer’s Block

A few mornings each week I log onto Zoom to meet with my writing group. I’ve been doing this since the pandemic, when the structure allowed me to maintain a writing time and helped me demonstrate to my son that I was working, even if I was just sitting and thinking. Originally, my writing group consisted of people who had paid to join—the brainchild of a woman who developed support systems for women in academia. When the pandemic ended, the group started to dwindle, and eventually Cathy decided to discontinue that offering. A few months later, a fellow writer reached out to see if a couple of us wanted to start our own writing group.

And so, here I am at 6:22 AM and I’m trying to get words on paper. This really is the ideal time for me to write. The house is still fairly quiet (except for the whirring of the fan and the sounds of my snoring dog). I’m normally already awake. Yesterday at this time, I had just gotten back from my run. And there is nothing else pressing—no games or practices to attend, no dinner to be made, no one else needing my attention.

In a few minutes I’ll have to stop and make breakfast and gather myself and head out the door, but right now I have time to sit and focus.

But sometimes, at this time, I am just so tired, and the words won’t come, and I’m not sure what project to work on, and I sit and stare for several minutes, and no words appear on the page, and I wonder, “Is this really writing?” And then I remember that I am making space and within that space projects will grow.

Maybe writer’s block is not so much a problem but an opportunity. Usually the “block” in writer’s block refers to a stoppage, but what if instead we thought about it as a building block—a necessary part of a project even though individually the progress might be difficult to see? Writer’s block is an opportunity to continue the job, to build a foundation, to make sure that the building site is maintained, that no weeds grow over and around the creation already in progress.