Source: tiffaniekellog
People call it writer’s block—a term I’ve barely mentioned in the many years (all seventeen of them) of my writing professionally. I don’t discuss it purely out of superstition. The more you discuss something the more powerful it becomes. “Writer’s block is for amateurs. Writing is a discipline, and you should be able to shoot words out of your ass whenever necessary,” is the advice I give myself whenever the situation inconveniences me, however temporarily.
But denying the existence of something does not eliminate it. And so here I am, on the verge, or should I say in the middle of, this rather embarrassing situation, and doing something else I thought I must never do: Writing about writer’s block. Mulling over it. Chewing at it in my mind like an annoying little piece of pink gum. I’ve always told people that the most conceited thing any writer can do is write about writing, and the most desperate thing for him is to write about writer’s block. Here I am, after many years of frowning upon these acts, dismally accomplishing both.
Perhaps I might add to my list of mortal sins, or mortal conceits, the act of calling yourself a writer. Many have acquired the slightly liberal attitude of endowing themselves, quite suddenly, with the extraordinary gift of concocting art from ordinary words. In this glittering age of the Internet you can pretty much do as you damn well please. Personal sites, social networks, blogs, et cetera, provide the natural breeding ground for all kinds of self-proclamation. And so the title, ever so tempting, has become liberally used.
Source: flavorinternationale
And as we are still on the subject of writer’s block, I must point out that part of the criteria should be the ability to produce, even in the worst of circumstances, respectable work.
While the description of a writer has become increasingly hazy, good writing (thank the hallowed grammatical halls) remains the same. Though we may take liberties with the way we fancy ourselves, good writing is still founded on the basis of good communication, and that is clarity.
A writer is both an artist and a technician, using a widely accepted system of conveyance— language—in its most proper form. The best writers in history have been the ones who knew well enough to fall under the lines and then were able to cross them in the most devious manner, occasionally even transcending them. The formula hasn’t changed: first you must know the rules; only then can you effectively break them.
So it’s funny to me that some would dare to be grammatical rebels, verbose prophets, circuitous preachers, irrational and spontaneous “scrapbookers”, and yet never feel the need to go back—dial back—and review the annals of history in search of proper form, if only to understand their place in the entire mess of things.
It’s interesting however, that these rogues, despite their many atrocities, seem to experience an unusual degree of productivity. Looking at all the available content on the Net these days, you’d think the world finally rid itself of writer’s block!
I guess when you don’t filter what comes out, it flows freely. There is an insane amount of information diarrhea at the moment—people are consuming useless crap like it’s the norm. Information, however inaccurate, unregulated and unverified, has become the greatest commodity of our time.
Or am I just being jealous? I am associating writer’s block with the flood of information I can’t process? Is it right of me to resent the people who produce it and call themselves however they want? Is it proper to stifle anyone’s liberties just because you hold fast to traditions largely developed from another medium, print?
Writer’s block, I suppose, is nothing but confusion. It’s simply not having much to say. Or knowing what to say and not having the tools to say it. Or believing you have something important to say, and that it will come out eventually—a form of professional guilt over your lack of productivity.
I leave my bed and head out for a place much more comfortable (and far less cluttered): A beach chair.
Now this is what they call “chillin’”. Such a Facebook and Twitter thing to say. In the past, I would never have believed that the jargon of a generation would be the only perfect description for this particular state of mind.
Consider the alternatives of the pre-Internet, pre-laptop-wielding era: hiding in a cabin by the sea; consuming too much alcohol; writing every morning with a hundred freshly sharpened pencils; writing lying down; writing naked; throwing a fit; locking yourself up in a room and thinking about death.
And how freeing it is, to “chill”. The writing process can be dulling sometimes. It can be hot, humid and oppressive. The kind of self-torture that is all but evident, eating at you, questioning—perhaps in the very same way that a hopeless painter or a composer questions himself—your very ability to be useful.
As I’ve managed to kick up my heels, look at the ocean and have a glass of white wine (rather painfully of course) I am, out of the blue, reminded of one glorious, neglected fact: that nothing is required of us in this world.
Not even the act of writing when you have so arrogantly convinced yourself of the rules, principles and conditions of what makes it good. Not even when you are trying to get past hating yourself for talking about it. Not even when you—somehow, deep inside, in your own repulsive conviction, and temporarily inconvenienced with writer’s block—deem yourself a writer.
BECAUSE IT'S TOTALLY FREE!
an iSTORYA.NET Opinions Column
by
is a writer and creative entrepreneur. Her poetry has been published in several broadsheets and national anthologies, including those of WILA (Women in Literary Arts) and Anvil Publishing's Crowns and Oranges (2008 ). She has also been a published essayist and columnist since 1997. Dabbling in lifestyle writing, her numerous feature articles have been printed in prestigious glossies such as Lifestyle Asia, Mega, Zee, People Asia and Mabuhay Magazine. She is a fellow of the UP National Writers' Workshop as well as the Carlos Palanca National Writers' Workshop.
She is a partner at Milkfish Studio, Cebu’s leading Digital Agency and CEO of Feedsocial, a Digital PR company.
You can view her portfolio at www.milkfishstudio.com and her personal blog at www.michellevarron.com
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