Having a friend recently ask me the rather broad “What’s your creative process?” question has me reflecting more on what that process truly is and how it’s evolved over the years.
This morning, that reflection had me thinking about the blank page that’s seemingly insurmountable for many writers (and creators in general). It’s something I haven’t experienced in several decades now, so I had to think back to when I felt absolutely overwhelmed by sitting down to a blank page tasked with the instruction or need to write only to have no words come out.
In high school I was fortunate to attend a school that offered Creative Writing as an elective. Each day, class would start with ten minutes of ‘free write’ to get the juices going. And I absolutely hated it.
I still have my composition notebooks from that class. The first one is literally falling apart, the cover no longer attached. I can flip through and see the days when sitting down to write wasn’t a problem. But there are also the days when I wrote, like the petulant teenager I likely was at the time, “Blah blah blah, I’m supposed to be writing and so this is what’s coming out. Nothing to say. Nothing to write. But here are words.” Or the lovely “La la la, yeah, okay, I’m going to write out the lyrics to the song I’ve got stuck in my head…” followed, naturally, by the lyrics (the song was One Night in Bangkok by Murray Head, in case you’re curious).
The thing that strikes me about these journals is how often I started that 10 minutes with nothing at all to write or say but then, somewhere in that time, the words came. And they didn’t stop coming. I have journals upon journals that contain the first version of the first manuscript I later completed in college.
But here’s the thing – I was writing by hand. I know that’s not possible for everyone, but if it is, I highly recommend trying it out when you’re stuck on a project or idea. The stream of consciousness that went into those pages helped me move onto write small paragraphs at first, and then whole pages. But what made those whole pages eventually come was due, in part, to opening up the journal and seeing what I’d done the day before.
Writing on a computer is awesome because I can type way faster than I can hand-write. BUT I can also delete all the words that I don’t like and start over. And start over. And start over. Which don’t get me wrong, there was A LOT of starting over in my journals, but even in the instances where I crossed out the words/lines/pages I didn’t like, they were still there. Those words that I’d forced myself to write were there to remind me that it was doable. That a blank page is an opportunity. And that I could write horrible gobbledygook and still end up with something I didn’t have when I started – words on the page.
So there’s a tip for when you’re stuck – write by hand.
And if you can’t write by hand, then try this: don’t delete your meandering seemingly incoherent nothings that come at the start. Either create a new paragraph a few lines down and keep writing, or track changes while you delete those words (then turn off track changes to continue writing). The point is to keep what you’ve put on the page/screen so that it’s no longer blank. The point is to look back at the end of the allotted time (whether self-imposed or part of the cadence of your life) and see that you did something.
I recall days when I’d flip backwards to find something I’d started and written off only to have those seemingly nothing words inspire something pretty cool. Plus, there’s something deliciously satisfying about reaching the end of a journal, having spilled ink on the page, and having those words now in your hands.
There are SO MANY tips for how to get started when you’ve got writer’s block or just generally feel stuck. I hope this one helps, and if it doesn’t, just keep trying. Eventually you’ll get there.
A. K. Hudson 