Writer’s block can be quite annoying when writing but I believe it can also help to think outside the box. Well the metaphorical box as I don’t really own a physical box of ideas. Whenever I am stuck on what to write next or I am unhappy with what I have written I use the writer’s block to distract myself. There are many ways I distract myself and many ways you too can distract yourself for the better.

I find that listening to different kinds of music effects my writing differently. If I am listening to a heavy metal song like ‘Fuel by Metallica’ then I find myself wanting to write something chaotic. For example if I am writing a piece of a novel then I might want to add a chaotic element to cause conflict to the characters. I believe the type of music can help with different moods within your writing. I also like to look out my window and observe the surrounding area and imagine what characters would do if they were in the real world. The real world can help with writing.

Distracting yourself with anything no matter how ridiculous it is can help you to write. Of course don’t get too distracted as you might forget about the writing completely. Reading can also help. I like to read books of a similar nature to what I am writing to help influence my own writing. Distract yourself, absorb knowledge and just write. This works for me but it might not work for you so no guarantees.

A writer’s life is an intrigue of mysteries that leads towards writing a novel, a play or anything your mind takes you to. The idea that sparks a brilliant novel or a play is something magical that drives us to type away our fervid imagination, leaving behind any restrictions or limits that reality may present. The process is not always as easy because sometimes we come to a stage where we are out of words or we are not sure how the story will develop. It can be very hard to navigate through that stage, especially if you start overthinking your way, as it may become an impenetrable wall.

I do not have the cure for the so-called “writer’s block” but I can share what I like to do when it happens to me. When I stop writing because I cannot come up with the next scene of action for whatever I’m writing, I leave everything behind and go for a walk – sometimes with some music on. It is soothing to walk around by the river (in my case) and spend some time wandering around, calming myself and thinking about something else. Or else, when I have lots of mixed ideas running through my head, I listen to upbeat music and throw everything on the page before I forget or implode.

Reading a book or watching a movie whenever I have time distracts me from what I have to do and gives me ideas about how to write a paragraph or setting a scene. Inspiration can come from anything that surrounds you, or even something that you want to experience. The methods are endless, and I like to use any of them depending on how I feel, because every story and emotion is unique, so they need to be treated as such.

What I can tell you from personal experience is that staring at a blank page won’t help, it may cause stress and anxiety and it won’t write itself if the mind set is not there. The best way that I found working for myself is to leave the page behind for a while and go back to it at a later stage, where your mind is more relaxed and you can write without pressure.

I don’t believe there is a method that works for everyone, but you need to have fun finding the one that works best for you. 

Writer’s block, to me— is a symptom of a lack in genuine inspiration. It comes to me in phases, sometimes I have months of complete productivity followed months of complete unproductivity. It is very important to me that during this time I do not force myself to create. If there is no inherent want for me to put pen to paper it means that even if I try to I won’t produce anything of note or value. So, during this time, I like to immerse myself in novels, poetry, films, and general art that is created by anybody but me. I find that when my own creativity stops flowing, it is a sign that I need to delve back into the creativity of others, and come out better because of it. There are certain books and some films that I reread and re-watch that always get me back into a space in which i can produce my own work again, however I do find it also effective to try and read new things, or discover new works of art in general.

The thing I am trying to do with this is that my writer’s block is a sign that I need to be reminded of why we produce the things we do. Why do we make art? Why is it important? Who do we do it for? When I am not creating, it is a good time to start reflecting on why I do it in the first place, if it has a purpose. Once I read novels again, watch films again, I understand the importance of creating again.

The muse is a wary and suspicious fox that you stare at and runs away as soon as you try to get closer. It seems to hide behind randomness as foxes hide inside gardens at night and it’s never around when you need it. I experienced writer’s block many times. Looking at the blank page, I cried for ideas that never want to come out, wishing the page to fill itself. It never happens, sadly. But, it’s worth trying to lure the muse in different ways.

One technique is character prompts. They worked quite well to generate plots or to write the first sentence of my stories. It’s good to explore ideas from different angles as situations might influence a character and vice versa. Websites have prompts with questions to draw out a character. Then, it’s a matter of making them appear on the page and letting them go.

Another exercise I found useful is beginning a story by writing a conversation, and it’s good for those who like to write dialogue. Still, I think it can be risky as the piece might look like a play. But, conflicts are inside dialogues and it’s easier to understand characters by listening to what they say on a page. 

I tried to describe a room or an object and carry on a story from these. It’s not my favourite exercise, but it’s good to come up with ideas to tell stories or introduce characters. I did this a while ago for a flash fiction piece and worked.

Sometimes it’s a matter of being free to suck and writing for the sake of doing it. Free writing is a good way to fight writer’s block, but I don’t find it quite effective as often it’s just a blurt of words. But, internal monologues are good to explore possibilities and it’s also fun and therapeutic. The same kind of result can be done with Journaling. 

Writing a true sentence works sometimes, as It helps to create an immediate sense of reality and believe in one’s story. From there it’s easy to continue and add pieces and details. The downside is that I found it hard to see the piece as fiction or nonfiction, but I think that one is a false friend of another.

Listening to music might work, but I think it’s good just for getting ideas for poems. I can’t write while I listen to music. I need to listen to my words, but music might help to generate emotions and images to use in a poem. 

These are a few of the exercises I tried when I had writer’s block. They might work, but often it’s a matter of writing the story one feels to write. I think that’s the best way to believe in one’s work and be worth the fatigue, but especially, read a lot.

Writer’s block is the most common thing to come across when writing, and it’s one of the most horrible feelings to have; When you want to write, but nothing comes to your brain. It’s like a hero but with no weapon. How is he supposed to fight a villain? It’s the same with writers. If we have no inspiration, how are we supposed to write? Well, I have a few ways on how to tackle it. First, the easiest and simple way is to go outside and take a walk; our world is full of different scenes and stories waiting for us, writers, to get the words down on paper. Go to a park and describe what’s around you, the trees, the grass and the flowers. These are all great starting points. If that’s not working, then try and observe people passing by and create an adventure for them, where they’ve been or where they’re going. If that doesn’t help, another method to fight writer’s block is to write from your memory. Anything you can think of from yesterday to when you were ten years old. Just write a memory you remember to get those gears flowing once more. Even if you can’t remember some bits, then fill in the gaps using your creative mind; you could even change it to a different genre. Add a dragon or add a new romantic interest. No one will know that was even your memory, to begin with. If it doesn’t help with inspiration that at least you’ve still written something, and that’s a step to winning against writer’s block.

I always found the term writer’s block a funny phrase. As if a writer is walking in a path, or even several paths of writing and then a giant block will suddenly fall from the sky onto the road and you don’t even notice it till you banged your head into it. I think that sometimes I don’t even reach far onto the path, the huge block is just standing there blocking the entrance to the road. I don’t know what’s more frustrating, do you?

Until today, I didn’t even realise what it is that I do to get through that block. Unfortunately, I can’t literally get a hammer and smash it! For me to get into writing, it’s actually helping to start backwards and search. For example, for this little entry I started by searching ‘what is the origin of the term writer’s block?’ I read or watch something and it helps me to get my own start and my own idea about the topic or what I wish to create. The other thing I do to get through a block is by talking to others and sharing my ideas or just what I need to write about. Where I am now and break down my thoughts. Sometimes they might give me an idea, and sometimes just the fact that I put my ideas out of my head, helps a lot! Breaking down a huge block is a lot easier if you are more than one person.

by Eleonora Venturini

A home in daylight, nothing at night

in a room filled with memories and burning ashes.

You are confined to your bed by hauled chains,

a nest that relinquish your begging ashes.

You are still inside your armour as white as salt

tickled by the sea in the land of greyish ashes.

Your hair is like crows flying from the meadow,

a golden field turned into grim merciless ashes.

Your eyes are mirrors in their pale reflection,

an autumn shade that brushes your mortal ashes.

Your hands are like spiders, rigid in their attack

sitting on a delicate web sewed in your faded ashes.

Your mouth is sealed, and no sounds are allowed

the monster is listening to your physical ashes.

Alone in a room full of sorrow, waiting for you

chained to a casket not belonging to your ruined ashes.

Someone will make a visit in your new home,

but you are gone from here in the day of the Ashes.

By Aidan Wheatley

When it came to facing the unknown it is either met with fear or hate but the unknown, I met was neither. It was another arctic day in the big city, which is often the case when nearing the beginning of winter. I was moving my way through the sea of people that always flood the noisy streets. It was the middle of the day. All the people kept the pigeons at bay. I have had a few close encounters with pigeons flying too low and it is not something I wish to repeat. The University at which I study was my destination. Once I had arrived, I decided to check the time and I saw I still had an hour until the seminar. I have always liked to arrive early as I believe it is better to be early than late. This is because being late means missing out.                 

I had begun to make my way up the many empty stairs. At that time of the day not many other students or tutors walk up or down, at least not in large groups. Along the way I was thinking to myself, which is something I like to do even when waiting outside the classroom. I have often enjoyed thinking to myself as it allowed me to run wild with my imagination. But before I even made it halfway to the floor, where my seminar had taken place that day, I spotted the unknown. I felt neither fear nor hate when I had stopped and looked at the mysterious thing. The unusual thing that I saw was a small piece of cucumber. It wasn’t a particularly big piece; it was the sort of piece you would find in a sandwich or a burger.                                                                                                                                      

I have never liked the taste of cucumbers but something about that mysterious piece was very mesmerising. The green imperfect circle leaned against the front of the stair above the stair it sat on. It looked like it had been placed there by someone, but I didn’t know who as I saw no one else on the stairs. To me it had looked like a prisoner trying to cling to the wall to avoid being spotted by the guards above. I will never know how the piece of cucumber had got there or even why it was placed there. Even at the time I did not truly know for sure whether the piece was actually a cucumber but nonetheless it was very mysterious. If I were a believer of God or some other higher power, I would have thought it was some godly act. Perhaps it was a message but what the message was I will most likely never know. Maybe I was just over thinking it and maybe it was just a piece of food someone had accidentally dropped.

By Isabel Mukasa

There should be a song for the woman who works day and night meeting the needs of those she loves,
A song for the woman who makes sure her children are okay.
There should be a song for the woman trying to complete every task given to her,
A song for the woman proud of her heritage and the upbringing of her children.
There should be a song for the woman who cooks to keep her children fed,
There should be a song for my mother.