Writer’s block: it’s the bane of every writer’s existence. Some writers like to describe it as what happens when your imaginary friends stop talking to you. But no matter how you look at it, it’s rough.

Thankfully, I don’t experience it often. But it always crops up right after I’ve finished a major project. Could be drafting a novel, editing one, a major rewrite. I last experienced it at the end of August, after I’d spent most of the month in query prep. I call the deep writer’s block after a major project a “project hangover”.

And I know I am not alone in this. One of the hardest things for a writer to do can be switching gears after a novel or other major project. When you’re writing a novel, it consumes your life. Spending so long working on a story that’s long and complex sucks you in. You start thinking about it all the time. Composing scenes while exercising. Hopping out of the shower to jot down dialogue. All that time with your characters, along for their journey. When it’s finally done and the dust settles, the first thing you do is sit back, and ask, “Now what?”

The most important thing I’ve learned about writer’s block is there’s no easy way past it. The only way out is through. Whenever I experience writer’s block, I work through it by starting a story and just making myself finish it. I’ve come to call these stories “struggle stories”.

Invariably, struggle stories start slowly. And badly. They tend to be long, sometimes rambling. And almost invariably dark. It makes sense, really. When you write, you end up on the page, and that includes your state of mind. Usually, I find forcing myself to write a story that isn’t flowing is a recipe for disaster. When I do, it often ends up confusing, then ugly, then outright disturbing.

But the point is simply to write something. To work all the way through a story to its conclusion, make myself puzzle it out, find the plot and roll with it. And, ultimately, to finish a story. Usually around the climax of a struggle story I hit my stride. The plot clears up, allowing me to click with characters and explore interiority. And I usually manage to wrap things up with a bang (or several, depending on whether or not a gun is involved).

Most of the time, my struggle stories don’t end up being something marketable. Even if I discount the subject matter, the fact is they’re too long and rambling, and editing them to the point of usefulness would take more time and energy than it’s worth. Because in the end, all a struggle story has to do is exist.

Over the years, I’ve found each tipping point in my writing is defined by a struggle story. Between streaks of furious short fic work and long, winding novel projects, there are these hacked canvases streaked with paint and scribbles. Meandering, angry stories, violent and mad. The literary equivalent of pulling one’s hair out. And thus I have a small collection of stories born of frustration, disappointment, and rage. But the thing is, each story ultimately found itself. And through writing it, from the opening line to ‘THE END”, I found myself again on the other side.

So if you’re a writer suffering from writer’s block and you’re reading this, here’s my advice on getting over the hump: bulldoze it. Write around for a few days, trying to find things that work. That’s fine. But only for a few days. Then pick something, and just write it. Suffer with it. Mess it up. Get angry and tug at your hair. Hate that story with all your heart. Find the plot and go after it with a hammer. But whatever you do, don’t stop.

Because when you’re truly at a loss for words, you’d be surprised how therapeutic it can be to write one really bad story. – MK