I’ve got the shakes. My sense of ease is tightening up. My mouth moves but I wonder what if anything will come out. The simple act of communication I take so for granted has become an issue in its own right, something to Pay Attention To. The thinking about it, the wondering, the…inevitable…pause…and then the fear and panic that nothing will come…at first it does, but I keep wondering and then it starts not to. And then there’s headache that will not go away. All this is happening because I put myself on a sharp deadline to do something I do not know how to do, and to do it quickly.
[Cue dramatic NaNoWriMo music. Ok, I do own the same slippers, but the similarities end there. I swear. Damn, she kind of looks like me…]
Yeah, so about that novel I’m writing? Turns out I am stuck because I don’t, ahem, actually know how to write a novel. And every day I falter, my word deficit grows exponentially. Knowing this has put me into an underground river of panic. I’m pretty sure riding that won’t get me anywhere I particularly want to go, so I’ve decided to press pause and examine the raft I’m sitting in for clues on how to get out.
First, I’ve noticed (surprisingly) that it isn’t the deadline that is freaking me out. I work with deadlines all the time. I’m not fond of them, and I usually prefer not to be rushed, but I do some of my best work on short notice. I’ve found it can spark my creativity to just have to wing it. So if not the deadline, what’s the issue?
Well, having no idea what to do to meet it! Yeah, that’s a problem. I’m paralyzed on the raft because I don’t know how to swim.
Usually I am busy formulating some plan, a master scheme if you will, of how I am going to accomplish the task du jour. I think, I ponder, I daydream, I muddle, and before you know it I’ve got a hold of some essential direction that is real and vibrant. Once I have that, the rest is just filling in the details with the execution. (In chess, you’d say this is the difference between strategy and tactics.) I am a big picture thinker, so once I can see the whole of it, I’ve got it. This is the equivalent of seeing a large branch downstream, thinking “Aha!” and plotting how to grab it and lift myself out. It’s then easy to gauge whether or not it will hold me, how and when to reach for it, and make sure I’m not strapped into the boat before I do. No problem!
The current state of affairs with the novel, however, is more like me sitting backwards in the boat trying to read a book on perfecting my crawl stroke only to get hit in the head with that branch. No wonder my head hurts.
Now, where did I put my slippers…
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For a refreshingly brilliant dissection of writing blocks, which according to Keith Hjortshoj are typically a symptom of technical inexperience, read his books Understanding Writing Blocks and The Transition to College Writing.
I could not recommend them more highly.
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Mysterious Artemis 