I’m not an expert, hence I can’t really write about any scientifically
proven cure for writer’s block. Nor will I repeat those articles that I’ve read
online. But I’m going to write about my feelings and thoughts about it, as I’m
on that boat at the moment, and how I’m coping with it.
At first, I thought it’s just an unexpected burst of laziness. And to
be fair, I’m not a stranger to this as I’m a naturally lazy person. But
normally, my episodes of idleness only last for a day… or two.
Not this long.
It’s been over three months since I’ve last written anything. And
believe me when I say I’m struggling to write this post right at this very
moment. It finally dawn on me that I’m not just being lazy, that I’m not a
little bit distracted by other things. This is my brain having a break, going
on hiatus without my permission. Because I’m keen to work, but I can’t come up
with any ideas at all. It feels like I’m completely burnt out. Like I’ve hit a
solid, brick wall. It’s kind of frustrating.
I’ve asked a few people if they’ve had the same experience, and a few
of them have had. This has come as a relief to me, knowing I’m not the only one
out there suffering from it, and that this is a normal occurrence. I’ve also
received a few good advices. Apparently, my brain will just know when it’s time
to get back on the saddle, that creativity will kick back in after a good rest.
A friend told me to leave writing alone and do something else that I enjoy.
So I've heed their advices and wait. And wait some more. During my usual writing
time, before I fire my laptop on, I’ll sit on my bed, twiddling my thumbs,
listening to my brain as it churns, expecting that light bulb to glow brightly.
Nothing. The light bulb is probably busted.
Okay. Perhaps my brain needs a bit more rest. But this has started to
become seriously boring. So I’ve tried reading books that I really loved, books
that should inspire me. But none of my favourites were able to hold my
attention long enough for me to fire that creative spark. Flipping pages have started
to feel like a tedious task. It hit me then, like a solid slap across the face.
That’s how bad this is. I can’t bring myself to do anything book related.
Hence, I’ve delved deep inside of me, to find out what have caused
this lapse. Maybe I am somewhat distracted. Perhaps my life got a little busier than normal these past months,
with the Christmas holidays and my daughter’s seventh birthday. Work is definitely
a bit more demanding. And I have just released my first book, and whether I
like to admit it or not, the “fear” is there. The fear that one day I will
realise that all my efforts were just a waste of my time, that I will never be
as good as I like myself to be, that my work will never get appreciated, that
I’m doing it wrong and I'm making a colossal mistake – that fear. Yeah, that will
surely shoot all inspirations to the ground.
I know it’s ludicrous. I should pick myself up and get to it. I shouldn’t
really care if no one likes my stories. I’ve written a book and not everyone
can do it. That’s alone is an accomplishment. Right? My view of writing is
there’s very little thing to loose but so many things to gain. I suppose I
should try to keep these words on constant loop in my head, until fear is
nothing but dirt under my shoe and I’m back on track.
Just to be clear, writing is not my main source of income. So my eagerness
to fight this bloody writer’s block has nothing to do with money. It’s to get
back the friends that I seem to have lost. My books, my laptop, the characters
I’ve created and the new voices in my head. I miss them. I really do.
