When I Have To Write But I Literally Can't Even

What to do to get your writing mojo in motion

These last couple of weeks I’ve been engaged in the ever-compounding world of content creation. The sources are many but the workers are few; namely, just me. In some moments I sense momentum and harness that wily beast for as long as I possibly can, writing all the thoughts I have considered and all the data needed to substantiate, writing like the busy little bee I like to think I am. Then there are the rest of the moments—a good 93% of the time—when I stare at the computer screen and type the same sentence 5 times, deleting each time and starting over only to arrive in the same place each time, like being trapped in a roundabout, unsure of which exit to take. I encounter momentum and roundabouts every single day of my writing life. EVERY. DAY. Which begs the question: What do I do to exit the roundabout and saddle up the momentum again?

My answer is really simple; I write. Thanks for coming. You’re all dismissed.

Seriously though, the only way to move from roundabout to momentum is to just do it. There are lots of people out there with a differing opinion, namely the advice that says “go do something else as a distraction.” I understand that idea, and I am an advocate for taking a small breather and going for a walk or doing some yoga. But eventually you have to come back to that screen and do the work. Sometimes you don’t have the luxury of waiting for inspiration. Notice I haven’t said that I’m trying to leave the roundabout and get my “inspiration” back… Inspiration is a luxury, a gift; momentum is the better discipline. Sometimes I think “Writer’s block” is simply the lack of disciplined momentum. Because sometimes the sentences have to come out no matter how you feel about it. So yeah, totally get a cup of coffee if you need it, but really the only answer is WRITE!

Now, in buckling down and just doing it, I will say that doing sometimes looks different than I suppose. We’ll get into some practices in just a minute, but I want to touch on the idea of Personal Identity and its importance in understanding roundabouts and momentum. Often when I’m writing for a particular project, I have to tunnel in and become that project, or that voice, or that brand. Whatever the case may be, these writing assignments require full concentration on my part in order to leave my natural voice and preferences and take on the personality of the project. When it’s an assignment of this nature, one that is drawing from elements of what I do and what I love but not necessarily who I am, I know that at some point I will probably find myself stuck in the roundabout. When this happens I’ll need to climb out of the abyss and engage that part of me that has felt neglected.

I don’t give myself the freedom to engage her in whatever way I like;

I keep writing. I just begin or pick up with something that reminds me of Who I Am: a strong, resourceful, eclectic Creative who is always thinking, dreaming, and trying things. What type of writing is entirely up to me. Sometimes it’s a list of ideas, sometimes it's a blog, sometimes it’s a song idea, sometimes a free-form piece. But I write for the love of it—for the love of me—and before I know it, I’m back in the driver’s seat on momentum’s wave. All of this begins with knowing my Personal Identity, parsed out into What I Do, What I Love, and Who I Am. This is an exercise that we use at our company to help creative entrepreneurs understand themselves better and make wise business decisions as a result.

That’s just one example of fighting your way back to writing mojo, but there are plenty more. Here are just a few tips I’ve picked up and put into practice along the way. Hopefully some of them will be helpful to you.

• 750 Words.  If you are unfamiliar with this practice, I advise you to get familiar. It originated with Julia Cameron, author of The Artist’s Way, as part of a practice from the book known as Morning Pages. It’s a free-writing exercise that, according to the author, should be done first thing in the morning and in true free-writing style— no thought for structure or content. Just writing. Although I do not regularly practice morning pages, I almost always do 750 words a day of some sort. These words should be outside of content creation for work, even if portions of the writing end up in some of my work pieces. For me, the goal is to have a safe space for my ideas. As a raving creative, I love ideas—concepting, exploring, nurturing, ruminating—and the practice of writing 750 words a day of whatever I choose helps me form those ideas more fully. Not to mention it’s a great escape from project work every now and then.

• Paper & Ink.  Word processing and digital files are 100% the only way for any work to be recorded. I fuss at my husband often when he shows me some of his new ideas for content within his company… and he whips out his large moleskine notebook where he has handwritten those thoughts, admittedly in a lovely script because he is better than me at a lot of things, handwriting being one of them. But I reply, “NO! Go type them and then show me!” Not because I don’t want to read his beautiful handwriting and lament that mine is daily becoming the epitome of a left-handed mess. No, it’s because I want him to record that valuable content in a manner that is easily distributable and useable because, let’s face it, no one is going to ask for a photocopy of a notebook page. It’s much more easily consumed via email, blog, e-book, social media, etc. Having said all of that, there is most definitely a time and a place for paper & ink. It is one of my favorite tools for igniting my writing mojo. Sometimes fingers clicking and text appearing on a screen lacks a soul. For me, I find that soul when a grip a thinline pen and press into thick, quality paper and begin moving. The clinical, abrupt motions of typing suddenly melt into fluid movements and graceful strokes. There is something inherently beautiful and human about writing with your own hand, and in that beauty there arises an original fondness for the old way, a fondness that brings with it fresh ideas and perspectives. Bottom line: If you find yourself stuck on a screen, close it and stare at a piece of paper with a pen in hand. I bet you’ll think of something.

• A Soundtrack. Because music is my original language, I often find it helps me overcome many roadblocks. Going back to my familiar places gives me respite and a way to think of new ways to move forward. The right music lets me divide and conquer in a way, helping me to focus on the discipline of writing when I need to while engaging my imagination in the subconscious. There have been many a day that I come back to full awareness and realize an hour or two has gone by while I’ve knocked out the articles and research and notes I’ve needed to accomplish. And somehow I don’t feel exhausted. I think it’s because music replenishes and nourishes as it goes. Sometimes it asks an emotional investment of you, but rarely does music leave you with less than you put in. Most of the time, it’s far more generous than that. So maybe if you’re in the roundabout, the best thing you can do is find your soundtrack and let it guide you to the right exit while you sing along.

• Voice Memos. Sometimes that “get up and do something else” idea is a wonderful one, especially when it’s coupled with disciplining yourself to write. There are times I have to change my location but I don’t want to give myself the writing pass for the moment. So I lace up my sneakers, drag my butt outside to the park, and pull up a voice memo on my phone. I then proceed to speak into it—anything at all, whatever I feel like holding in thought for a few moments—and I explore the spoken word as a means of refining the written word. It really is a fascinating exercise, one that gets my brain working by engaging different areas and challenging me to approach a task in a different way. I love this little trick, and I do it often, especially when it’s lovely outside. If you’re anything like me, you have a hard time just enjoying something during a work day because it can feel like it detracts from your output (Which is complete bull, just FYI. I think recognizing is half the battle) and therefore isn’t worth scheduling on the calendar. By enacting the voice memo practice, I place a purpose on my outdoor time, one that makes sense in my weird brain, and I suddenly feel the freedom to take a stroll around the neighborhood, all while being productive. Win/win.

• Solitude. This one can sound like music to the introverts and something akin to an air horn for the extroverts. But the practice of solitude for the purpose of writing has been and continues to be the single greatest source of productivity, momentum, and inspiration-fueled creativity that I have ever found. Changing scenery and making it be away from your familiar spots and people will cause you to dig into yourself and your work because there are simply fewer distractions. It’s not a great mystery; it’s just good common sense. Decreasing the external stimuli increases the internal stimuli. To put it simply, you can probably get the juices flowing by placing yourself in a scenario that insists you focus on the task at hand. Even if you think a true solitude writing endeavor is too much for you (I’m looking at you, extroverts), then get your business partner or a small group of like-minded entrepreneurs and go somewhere together for a couple of days. Spend the mornings having coffee and planning the day, the rest of the day doing your own things, and then come back in the evening and discuss the day’s highlights and challenges over good food and wine. Seriously, every single time I’ve done this—alone or with people—I have been the better for it. And it doesn’t have to be expensive, fancy, or far. As a matter of fact, cheap or free is my favorite way!

Those are a few of my practices for finding momentum and getting my writing mojo going. How about you? Do you have anything to add to this list? What are some things you’ve tried to help you write when you just literally can’t even?