The term writer’s block has always felt ill-fitted to the feeling of not being able to write. The imagery elicited by the word block is one of a straightforward obstacle, of something clear and robust in vision, something surmountable. The semantic associations of this phrase, of identifying the limitation as a solid object, feels far from the sensation of fog that plagues my brain when I feel unable to write. It feels more like I’m inside the block, and like the block is made of glass, and like I can see the expanse of the whole world outside of the block but can’t contribute to it, can’t understand it. The world of my characters, of my own inner richness, of my reality, becomes totally incomprehensible in a way that isn’t abstract and taunting. Every attempt to make sense of it ends up becoming a spiral of stimuli that takes me in circles but never to any words or newfound understandings. Because, to me at least, that’s what writing is: assigning meaning, making connections, recognizing patterns. It works in tandem with the way I live, and understand the grand complex thing that is my life, which makes the moments of non-writing feel like moments of my life wasted, undocumented, unhonored.

And of course, if the lull itself isn’t enough reason for panic, there is the fear that I’ll never pick up the pen back up again. To a certain extent, I believe in the importance of creative discipline and its role in combatting the issue of non-writing. Rhetoric is a skill, as is the development of vocabulary, and of utilizing literary techniques. Practicing these skills, even if it results in blocks of texts with only one good line, are useful in developing writing overall. The mind is, at least on a very basic level, a machine that needs maintenance and benefits from routine. Discipline in all facets of life is paramount, and that idea is only reinforced to me more and more as I grow older. More often than not, it is better to have written something bad that will never see the light of day than to have written nothing at all.

But in that same essence, the observation that can take place in periods of non-writing is also a skill to be developed. Taking lapses in creativity as pockets of opportunity rather than displacement or suspension has transformed the way I react to them, and the reinforcement I feel every time I do inevitably return to writing affirms that it is something essential to my being. And for the static time in between, whether it be days or months, nourishes me subconsciously and make that return feel as invigorating as it always does. The clarity i’m provided by the silence of my own mind creates the fertile soil necessary for any comprehensive words or ideas to grow.

It always come down to a matter of balance, as all of life does. Thankfully, I have the entire rest of my life to continue writing, and not writing, and learning something new each time around the cycle.

By Sajida Aktar

Erika Hesketh is currently the director of the Poetry Translation Centre, a small charity based in London that celebrates contemporary poetry in translation around the world, particularly focusing on translating Asian, African, and Latin American poets into English. Throughout her years of experience, she has highlighted three professional milestones that have made the most impact in her literary career.

Standing on the shoulders of giants

Hesketh started her career at Bloomsbury publishing where she was able to secure a graduate job as a diversity trainee. This was a new role entirely and was initiated by the Art Council who wanted to place non-white graduates into publishers around the UK. The intent behind this was due to the lack of diversity for non-white graduates in publishing based on a 2004 report.

One of the important figures that supported her in this role was Bill Swaingsing, who was her first outlet to literature and translation. Through him she was able to learn about the magical process of translation between two languages of the same book. One of the first books that enlightened her interest in translation was No et moi by Delphine de Vigan.

Developing a theory of translation

She transitioned from her role as diversity trainee to editing books of translation. Her role involved working with texts on page which enabled her to form ideas of language as a material, one where it was a property of itself and noticed that languages behave differently as a material.

She highlights that the publishing industry comes with gatekeepers and they are often paired with biases which are the decision factors in what books get sold and distributed. This can create a lot of inequalities in diversity and inclusion. She mentions that to make change, the biases must be challenged.

Taking a risk

Eventually she moved on to working for the Southbank Centre, specifically for the London Literature Festival. Through this role she was able to understand the importance of inclusion and noticed that freedom of expression is a continued issue that needs to be worked on collectively. Her advice regarding methods to get new books translated is through prizes and grants.

Erica was able to have a diverse range of experience in her career and closes off with a statement about the 2004 report, as 15 years later an update was made. She highlights how some things have moved forward like the fact that there is a greater diversity within authors who are being published. However at the same time there are problematic issues that are more in-house that haven’t improved since 2004. One being the lack of diversity and people of colour who make up the staff teams within publishing, especially those who are making the decisions at a senior level.

Thankfully there have been a few recent changes, for example Dialogue Books, a small publishing group who focus on, ‘shining a spotlight on stories by, about and for readers from LGBTQ+, disabled, working class and Black, Asian and marginalised communities.’, have recently become a division within Hachette. Due to this, future prospects are looking progressive but there is a need for activists and advocates to continue pushing for an all-round collective change in representation and inclusion.

Here’s the thing about writer’s block: I don’t tend to make an effort to get out of it. Writing, to me, can never feel forced in that way– I don’t feel like I do my best work when I’m forcing myself to sit and do it. I, with the short term memory of a goldfish and the attention span of a golden retriever, will type the same words over and over again to reach wordcount, and then never look back. So when I say I don’t make an effort to escape my writer’s block, I mean that I am both stuck in the executive disfunction of it, and that I don’t think escaping my writer’s block is actually going to give me the writing that I desire.

So here’s what I do, this is the goldfish trick.

There must be certain things you and I enjoy outside of writing: if not for peace of mind, then maybe just to avoid complete isolation. Maybe it’s browsing the internet, maybe it’s drawing or baking or making music. Myself, I’m a pinterest gal at heart. I love reading, I love music, I love doing the most random things that take the shortest amount of time. Maybe think about what you like doing, or just check my little list a bit further down and go to town.

The goldfish trick is to trick one’s brain into low-level productivity. It’s to do all the same stuff you’d normally do to procrastinate (and God, am I guilty of doing uquizzes to procrastinate). Except, you’re going to relate your procrastination to the writing work you’re putting off until you’re enthusiastic about writing again. You’re going to incorporate the characters and world you’re building in your dreaded writing into your every day. You’re going to trick your brain into doing the work you didn’t even know you could do (and, as it turns out, this work is great for characterisation too!). Here’s some ideas:

• Take buzzfeed quizzes. Spoil your inner millennial and take all those quizzes with outcomes that seem random at best. However, do it as your characters. The results of the quiz might be silly, but the questions will still get you thinking about how a character might respond.
• Pinterest, pinterest, pinterest. Build your written world from other people’s pictures. Collect the little village your story takes place in with pins. Make your characters little boards of what they’d find pretty, or what you think describes them visually.
• Spotify. I can’t think of any person who doesn’t have a music service of some kind within immediate reach. Make playlists for your story, your characters, your locations, anything you feel inspired to make playlists for (repeats are allowed!).
• Read books! Read the genre you’re writing, read books your characters would, read anything you need to research and are actually interested in. To write is to read, so even to read a random journal is to get a step closer to your goal.
• Collect all the little information that can be collected in bite-sized moments: go onto Wikipedia, go on baby name websites. Nothing needs to take more than five minutes, and sometimes you’ll find you’ll spend more than five minutes doing it because you’re actually enjoying yourself.
• And when in doubt, book yourself a holiday to get away from it all. Not really. Just go onto booking sites and see what the world looks like, what you could take from it. Look at hotels and think which one of your characters wouldn’t settle for anything less than a four star place.

Little bits add up. Knowing your character’s favourite food might not move your story along, but knowing them might give you a great idea of where to go next. Maybe you’ll learn something surprising about your setting, story or characters along the way. Just keep tricking your brain until you find that little nugget that makes you go ‘hey, maybe I should actually write this down’.

It’s not writer’s block if it’s ‘research’ (or buzzfeed quizzes).

Go out little goldfish, the world is your oyster.

by Marco Cassata

Ella Dorman-Gajic came to talk for Westminster’s writer series about her career as a playwriter. Besides plays, she also wrote screenwriting and poetry. I met Ella last summer when the university organized classes for all Westminster students interested in writing.

Her work was staged in numerous theatres such as Omnibus theatre and The Old Red Lion. She had a very challenging beginning as much of her work was disrupted because of the Covid pandemic, but she persisted. She tried to get promoted on the internet – as many plays were recorded and played online during the pandemic. She gave us a lot of tips to begin our career as playwriters such as looking at opportunities online – and don’t be afraid of the load of work behind the application as these will pay in the end!

She also suggested attending meetings with other writers to get feedback but also to get opportunities. That’s what happened to her. During one of these meetings, she met someone that was interested in her work and decided to produce it.

Then she gave us some quick prompts for beginning a play. I remember these as the same ones she used last summer. The exercise was very simple, but at the same time so good because by doing these, characters, locations and scenes can be set quickly and then carried on.

This was an amazing talk, and I was happy to have attended it.

One of the reasons that I love being a writer is the excitement of a blank page. It symbolizes the beginning of something you can get lost in — a world, a character, even a situation. It can be exhilarating. It could be ecstatic. And the times that it is, it feels like nothing can stop you— you’re going to write until there is nothing left in your brain. The reality is, though, that most of the time a blank page is taunting, it’s menacing. A reminder that you can’t write anything. It can be infuriating after staring at it for too long.

Writer’s block has happened or will happen to every writer who has graced this earth. You sit down at your computer, notebook, or loose piece of paper and you have nothing. You’re devoid. Suddenly, your creativity has fled and it’s nowhere to be found. The blank page is sitting there, in front of you, and it’s insulting you.

You take a walk, hoping it will help. You bring your notepad with you just in case you see something interesting, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that can start something in your mind. Nothing. You go out with your friends, hoping they offer a story you can whip up into something to fill that blank page. Nothing. You try and try and try until you’re so tired you swear you’ll never write again. You get an instant of relief, you finally have an idea, and when you get that notebook out, it’s gone. That blank page is still there when you get home. It’s provoking you.

How do you get rid of writer’s block? Get rid of everything. Get rid of the idea of writing. Get rid of the idea of a blank page. Run as far as you can from it. Get away from the taunting, the thoughts that you’ll never write anything ever again, that you’ve failed.

The day after that, or the next, or the one after that, an idea will pop into your head. It might be terrible but you’ll still write it down. You’ll get your creativity back. And after a couple of really painstakingly bad ideas, you will come to one that isn’t half bad.

It’s impossible for me to tell you how to get over writers block because everyone has their own way of doing things. I can only share how I overcome or try to overcome writer’s block.

Blank pages can be intimidating. Starting fresh notebooks, tearing out pieces of paper, is something I’m particularly experienced with. The moment I finally overcome that hurdle, I feel liberated and nothing can stop me. In all honesty, I don’t have a particular tool or method for overcoming writer’s block. I have done one simple thing to overcome this struggle the past few times I have encountered it. Walk away. A creative idea won’t come to me if I force it or fight for it. In those moments when I’m least expecting it, I come up with my best ideas. I feel as if I have had an epiphany. It happens because I haven’t been staring at the page all day long, or keeping my pen at my side ready to jot down the next big idea. It occurs because I’ve freed my mind from any connection to being forced to imagine, to create, and instead let it imagine and create at its own pace. While it may not be a useful suggestion to anyone (even myself) if time is an issue, you can still try to walk away from the obstacle for an hour or even just ten minutes, your mind may refresh and you might be able to approach it from a different angle.

Whenever my mind is free to daydream fully, I am able to think more clearly. Do not force your ideas to come to you; let them flow from you instead.

One way I tackle writer’s block is through the Pomodoro method. Setting aside a few hours in a day to amend a draft for an assessment like a novel or play portfolio or complete homework concerned with practising the skills needed for a language like German not only allows me to block out outside distractions through noise cancelling headphones, but also to give myself enough time to free write my thoughts towards a certain class for a module and effectively explain my opinions on how I can apply the advice given by the lecturers even after I graduate from my degree.

Alternatively, taking a brief nap is an effective way for me to confront writer’s block. Even though I sleep for more than an hour rather than the usual 20-minute period, any tension or fears regarding assessments which I perceive as difficult to accomplish are filtered away through my subconscious. Upon waking up, the combination of a refreshed mind and a positive mentality presents a helpful method to face a to-do list left to pile up from constant stress. By gradually ticking off any prioritising and/or important tasks within a particular week for all of my modules, the end result will make me satisfied that what I have written is a reflection of the progression and development as a writer when exploring various forms of writing, as well as proud of what I have managed to achieve. 

‘’I want my writing to be unique.’’ This is a sentence which every writer has uttered to themselves at least once in their career. In this endeavour, we, as writers, often forget that having basic human qualities and our own personalities make us unique. Our writing will be unique, whether we try to make it that way or not. This leads to the birth of a phenomenon known as writer’s block. 

Any writer you have met who says that they have never experienced this is lying. It is the natural progression of the journey of a writer. Writers want to appear better than others by saying that their creativity has never experienced a slump. Experiencing the slump may actually make us better writers. Getting the ideas which we rate as ‘bad’ or ‘crazy’ out on paper, even as a series of points, will help you save them. A lot of writers who have taken a small break from these ideas and don’t save them regret doing that in the future. They may never be as fresh or new again. 

Personally, I feel that a good way of overcoming writer’s block is picking a place in the city you live in to be a ‘’creative purge space’’. This place should be away from your writing desk preferably. Take a notebook with you, or a device and scribble all of the ideas out. Tear the pages with the ideas out of your notebook, but save them. Sit in the space, let your ideas and thoughts wash over you and you will gain a new perspective on them. Just moving away from your writing desk can make an entire world of difference. If the place you have chosen is close to nature, let the fresh air and the sounds of insects, water and the different colours around you have an impact on you. They will help you cleanse and free you of your writer’s block. Have a playlist you listen to, let the music be calming or maybe lo – fi. The effect these things have on clearing your block is immaculate.

I live in London so my space is on Primrose Hill, I hope you find your safe writing space too. Every writer needs one.

For dealing with writer’s block, I would personally recommend two similar ideas that I have used in the past in order to help avoid any instances where you may feel stuck or helpless with your writing. The first idea that I would suggest is to write down the thought in your head almost instantly, no matter how bizarre or silly it may be, and then form it into a longer sentence and then flesh out the thought as much as you can. For example, if you are thinking “I can’t wait to have a cup of coffee” I would write that down into a longer sentence, then I would build upon it by adding “I really like my coffee with cream and brown sugar” or “I would like to stop by my favourite coffee place and try something new” and make it as detailed as possible then using that momentum switch over to writing. The second idea I would say is if you were writing a novel, you could write down the main plot devices/events as an outline of the important stuff, and then return to dress it up later when you feel more creative.