This happens every time I start something completely new: there is the exciting honeymoon period when I fantasize about how wonderful it will turn out, followed by the reality that I actually have to do the work, followed by images of all the things that could go wrong or why I can’t do it, which most often ends up in a moment where I try to rationalize not doing this new thing at all. Writer’s block fits neatly into this pattern—it’s called psyching yourself out. It’s called perfectionism. It’s called a fear of failure. It’s called inertia.
When this happens, I often start talking to myself. I start trying to understand why I don’t want to do the work—I might journal about it, whine about it, and commiserate with myself. In general, I throw a pity party, even though I know that none of this helps. The truth is, there’s only one solution: action.
It’s not pretty, and all of those nay-sayers inside and outside of you will argue, but action is the only medicine. Something happens when you throw the junk thoughts aside and actually make a move on things: your brain stops running like a chainsaw, chittering and chattering about how much you suck, and you actually start to produce.
It doesn’t always happen right away, but trust me, it happens. Usually, when I’m in a funk, the last thing I want to do is get to work, but I’ve come to discover that the only way to get out of the bad mood is to get to work.
Now I’m not saying that I sit down to my desk, and suddenly angels start singing. Often, it’s like walking through mud. The self-deprecating voices keep talking away, but after a while, you learn to ignore them, and eventually they shut up.
People often want to believe that being creative is some stroke of genius, when in reality, it boils down to one thing: taking the time to create. That’s it. Maybe some people enjoy that process more than others, which makes them more prone to practicing it, but people don’t usually think about it that way. They think, “he’s creative, I’m not.”
I’m not saying this doesn’t take courage—it takes a lot of courage to act—it’s much easier to sit by and watch movies in the dark while eating several candy bars (I have a particular weakness for romantic comedies and milk chocolate), but in the end, we will all be happier people if we actually do something.
This works for all things—I’m not just talking about making art or writing. Beginning anything you want to do starts with one action, one step. It does not mean doing everything today—it means doing one thing today and every day, no matter how small. Once you get the ball rolling, it will be hard to stop. So hop to it, and get to work!
