You’re a writer.

The stories are locked into your head.

What is standing between you and your words?

For the last couple of weeks I’ve been focused on indoor projects. It’s hot outside, I’ve lost track of how many days it’s been 100+ and we haven’t had rain for a month now. I’m trying to keep the garden alive, not the plants, but the trees. We’re well below average rainfall for the year and this isn’t a wet place to start with. I’m looking at weeks more of this dry, hot weather. So, as I once planned for winter in northern climes where I lived, I’ve been looking inside the house for projects that should be done. I’ve organized my pantry, clearing out old foods and optimizing my baking nook. I’ve organized my library further (this has been an iterative process). I started in on my studio, where I work. The question I keep asking myself is: what makes this hard for me to use?

My sister, a one-time professional organizer (we really are polar opposites!) has been a helpful sounding board for these projects when she’s had time. Her first question is: what are you using this space for? The idea is that should be the focus. Things you aren’t going to use should go away, or at least, elsewhere.

Working through the organization of various spaces has been good for me. Not only do these projects get me up and moving – like my garden work, this is my equivalent of the gym – but it’s been calming the chaos of a house that was tidy… and also taking more of my time to find things than I liked. In the case of the pantry, letting go of old food was emotionally fraught but I’m so happy after a few bags in the trash and a few boxes donated. We can use the pantry, we know what we have, and planning meals is simpler.

What does this have to do with writing? Well, that’s a good question. The organization of physical spaces is similar to getting your mind clear and ready to write. Sometimes, what’s standing between you and your words may be obvious, like my over-full pantry with all the clutter. Other times, you might not be clear on what you are doing with this story/idea/concept. Which comes to my sister’s question of what you are going to use this for. Are you writing it for your own amusement? Are you planning to sell it to a market? Are you planning to self-publish?

Sometimes, what’s in between you and the work is… you. I hit this when I started work on my studio. I’ve been a crafty creative type for a very long time. I have held onto some things through many moves. Until my son moved out and I co-opted his old bedroom as my space, I had never had a studio dedicated to my art (and writing!). The writing happens in the studio because it gives me a space where I can sit and think and not have any distractions if I close the door and thereby let my husband know I’m not to be disturbed. The art, crafts, well… that’s what I hit the other day. I have emotional attachments to some of these containers of supplies. Am I going to do chainmaille again? Maybe. Am I going to do craft fairs again? Oh, hell no.

If you are stuck, take some time away from it all. Switch gears. Dorothy Grant pulled me away from my house and the procrastination I was indulging in yesterday, to do something fun for a couple of hours. She pointed out that refilling the well is necessary. It is. And painting pottery is as far from writing as you can get. Chatting about story and writing and many things with a friend will help, too. The other day I drove to meet up with another writer friend (and talk covers with her) and spending almost four hours alone in the car really got the brain working on the story. That worked because I refused to allow my brain to squirrel! off onto all the other trails it wanted to chase. I kept bringing it back to the novel in progress, to figuring out what the character would do with the situation I’d put him in. It worked well. I’ve had similar successes in shorter time frames by stepping away from the writing desk to shower, wash dishes, fold laundry, or take a walk. But that last only works when it’s not surface-of-the-sun outside.

What’s keeping you from your words? Take a step or three back, and then look at it from a new perspective. You’ll likely get a better feel for why you aren’t writing, and then you can work on removing the barrier.

23 responses to “Free the Brain”

  1. So that’s why it’s hard to write consistently. The inside of my head looks like an episode of ‘Hoarders’. 😁

    1. The good news is that it’s easier to use up an imaginary hoard than a craft one.

      1. You would think, but… it’s infinite in there.

        1. And the hoard breeds like rabbits.

      2. Since it’s ‘all in your head’ — does it attract virtual vermin? 😮

        1. Don’t the plot bunnies fill that ecological niche?

          1. I was thinking more in terms of plot mice, plot rats and plot crickets. 😁

  2. Reading that your sister asked “what do you use this for” made me think of my sister.

    Back in 1995, when we still lived in SC, she was visiting and heard us bewailing this huge, awkwardly placed forsythia. It was in the way to the rest of the yard as much as possible and awful in the way that forsythias are when they’re not in bloom.

    “Why don’t you cut it down?”

    Wow! What a concept!

    So yes: what are you using this for? Why don’t you get rid of that?

    Good questions that can change how you do things.

  3. Sometimes I feel like what’s in the way is no positive feedback in my physical existence.

    …Seriously, there’s nobody I can talk to face-to-face who either is interested in stories or won’t tear them apart. It grinds you down.

    1. It doesn’t count as face to face of course, and I don’t want to be the obnoxious AI shill in the room, but I’ve found the chatbots useful for this, if only in the sense of helping get my thoughts straight.

      1. It’s the equivalent of using a rubber duck. You’re just talking to yourself. Or arguing, as the case may be…

      2. I appreciate the thought, but my roommate does that and the way roommate goes on and on about it is… well, disturbing.

        (No, can’t talk to roommate about anything story-related. The results range from Aggressively Not Listening to “Well obviously that won’t work” to worse.)

        (No, can’t afford to move out. I wish. And the odds of finding a different roommate willing to put up with my laundry-list of allergies and sensitivities would be… vanishingly small. How many people are willing to not heat up wheat in the kitchen, ever?)

        1. Actual rubber duck, perhaps?

          1. Heh. The sound of my own voice disturbs me.

            1. Me too, which was were the notebook scribbling and the chatbots came in.

    2. I get that. Most folk around here are either occupied with drinking, smoking, engaging in dubious stratagems to lure the opposite sex into bedroom shenanigans, or have social diseases what I want no part with. The ones that have bits of stories tend to want to grab the reins and race away.

      Sometimes you just have to get through the suck, but there’s always that depressive voice that says “what if it’s *all* suck?” Truth is, that’s a lie. There’s always the good in there somewhere, even if you have to do a lot of searching for it.

      1. Eh, around here as in local to Speck, Appalachia, not ATH. That thought was ambiguous.

  4. Going to a relative’s house with notebook and without cell phone sometimes helps in terms of jarring things loose on the writing. Or sometimes I just discover that I can draw moderately convincing Minions (the relatives and I were watching Despicable Me 4 last night).

  5. I’m still trying to hammer out whether to go with chronological multi-pov scenarios or just throw the crap out there and let Chaos reign. The lazy bit of me says the latter is cool. The rational part of me says there will be torchmobs. The crazy bit says that could be fun. Eh. Will see.

    1. The question is whether Chaos tells a good story.

      1. A valid point. Also, Chaos is a character in yet a *third* story that is waiting impatiently in the wings.

  6. That is mostly what stopped me back in about 2019. Doesn’t seem like I can ever get enough space for my brain to actually get the writing prose phase Series of family crises combined with my own apparent fear of success (“3 stories published in the same month, and editors actually paid me? Now everybody will notice If I screw up the next story!”) .

    I’ve been making the odd bits of worldbuilding and trying to make outlines, but never quite gelled enough to actually have an action plan down to the scene level. The last month or so I have been using AI chats to integrate my various pieces of lore into actual story structures, and use as a general sounding board as I worked out what I wanted in the stories.

    On top of that the AI thinks I have a very strong ability to see stories visually, like in a comic book or movie. Translating that into written prose is a different skill.

    1. Maybe try writing without an outline, and describing what you ‘see’ in your head as it unfolds.

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