My Least Favourite Writer Stereotype

I've come across a fair few writer stereotypes. The one where no writer can survive without a ridiculous amount of caffeine. The one where we're all awkward, introverted, anti-social shut-ins. The one where we're just generally a bit weird.

And while I disagree to some extent with all of those stereotypes (except maybe the weird one, assuming that "weird" here means "an individual, because no two humans are the same, so for everyone to subscribe to the same social norms would be ridiculous"), the one that I think I disagree with most is the one that says we're all tortured souls who convert pain into creativity.

Year Abroad, Part Three: My First Week

It feels far longer than a week that I've been in Germany. Technically, I have: my parents and I arrived last Wednesday, so it's only really that I've been Germany on my own for a week. But that isn't what I meant. Saying that it's only a week since I said goodbye to my parents just feels wrong. Surely it can't have been so recently?

I've spent my first week alone in Germany working on my book, exploring Tübingen (pictures below!), going for jogs (admittedly only two), having awkward conversations with flatmates I barely know in the kitchen, setting up a German bank account, handing in forms, and Skyping numerous people, numerous times. I definitely feel like I'm settling in; like I'm getting to know my surroundings and life here is a little more normal.

Year Abroad, Part Two: Travel, Arrival and Settling In

So. I'm in Germany. My parents have just left; I'm here to stay now. What a weird thought that is.

Today is Saturday. We set off at perhaps twenty to three on Wednesday afternoon, and reached the Euro Tunnel in plenty of time - only for it to be delayed. After waiting there for a couple of hours, we finally got to France and had soon found our Ibis Budget hotel. It was clean and comfortable enough, but I didn't sleep well. Not because I was nervous, though - I was determinedly not thinking about where we were going. Apparently I just wasn't tired enough once my head hit the pillow, and once I did manage to sleep, I was woken twice during the night.

We set off again at about six AM French time, and I napped (badly) through France, Belgium, and Luxembourg. Once in Germany, though, I decided to stay awake despite still being tired: I wanted to see where we were going. At that point, I was quite excited. But the closer we got to Tübingen, the more nervous I got. What if I didn't like it? What if it wasn't a nice town? And did I really want to go away on a year abroad anyway? (The answer to that was no, I didn't.) I just wanted for us to keep on driving, as if we were just going on a trip through Europe, not dropping me off on my year abroad.

Writer's Block

Recently I started sending chapters of my novel to a group of people I call my Guinea Pigs. In actuality, these are just my closest friends – the people I trust the most and feel most comfortable sharing my work with at this stage. However, it’s not easy, and for me, this editing seems to have brought on what many people refer to as writer’s block.

But before I get into that, let’s see where I’m at with this novel of mine. I did, miraculously, manage to complete Camp NaNoWriMo this past July (see my stats here), but in doing so I did not get anywhere near finishing the first draft of my sequel. I got so stuck with it that I decided it would be both easier and more beneficial for my writing if I were to instead write the second draft of my first draft (also my laptop spent six days out of my reach having a virus removed, so by the time I got it back, I had to write FAST, which I really couldn’t do with the amount of inspiration I was getting for the sequel). So, at the end of July’s Camp NaNoWriMo, I had a complete mess of a beginning of a sequel, and the first four chapters of the second draft of the first book.

Since then, I have edited the prologue plus one of those first four chapters and sent both off to my Guinea Pigs. After editing Chapter One about a week ago, however, I got writer’s block.

I say that like it struck me like lightning and I had to spend the week in bed with flu-like symptoms because of it. Of course, that is not the case. Writer’s block is not a disease; it affects different writers in different ways and for different reasons, and it won’t even be the same for each writer every time they get it. See this tumblr post for more on this.

In the past, I’ve had writer’s block from simply being uninspired. This time, though, it was decidedly anxiety-induced.

After sending Chapter One out to my Guinea Pigs, I started editing Chapter Two, but I couldn’t finish for the feeling of impending doom lying heavy on my shoulders. It suddenly struck me just how long a project this was, and how serious it was getting: I was writing draft two, and sending it out for other people to read! It is very rare for me to ever have finished a writing project, and I’ve certainly never gone back and completely rewritten one before, so this is the closest I’ve ever been to having a manuscript that is ready to send out to agents. This thought brought on even more fear: if I can’t deal with having my closest friends reading my writing, how will I ever be able to cope with getting anything published? What if I can’t achieve my lifelong dream?

It didn’t really help that I can be a bit of a perfectionist, and was worrying over whether any of this was worth my time anyway if it would never be perfect. Just thinking of continuing writing makes me want to hide from the world and all my responsibilities.

I decided the best way to overcome this was to take a break for a few days, and not force myself to write when I felt unable to do so. I've ended up consciously taking over a week off from writing my novel (I say "consciously" because often I just won't find time to write for this length of time or longer). On one hand, I could say that it has worked: when I do think about it (no use thinking about something that makes you feel like crap, right?), I feel a little better about it, and I have started writing again. On the other hand, what I have been writing is not my novel, and even if it was, this would definitely not be a permanent solution. The anxiety only comes back and then I'd have to take another break lasting a week or two. It could take years to get this novel done in this way, never mind its sequels.

Another potential solution is outlined in this tumblr post. I don't think the problem described by the anonymous user who sent in the question is quite the same as mine, but it's similar enough that it's worth a try. The advice suggests asking yourself a few questions about your writing whose answers are meant to encourage you and rekindle a bit of self-belief. I think my answers to these questions are certainly something I need to remember whenever I feel discouraged about my writing: yes, I enjoy writing, therefore no, I do not think it's a waste of time. That reminder that I'm writing this more for my own pleasure than for a future career might be just what I need to get me out of my writer's block.