Last March I began writing a gratitude list in my journal every night before I went to bed. The practice was supposed to be for 40 days. The practice was inspired by Melody Beattie’s book Make Miracles in 40 Days, and I liked doing it so much (and things began happening that were pointing to the miracle I wanted), that I’ve kept it up ever since. I won’t explain Melody’s thinking, she does it well enough in the book.
But I thought I’d share some of my gratitude from this week related to the Tactical Read of my play Handcrafted Healing that L.A.F.P.I. sponsored Tuesday night.
First a shout out to fellow L.A.F.P.I. bloggers Robin Byrd and Jen Huszcza as well as director Harriet Lewis for attending.
A big thank you to my fellow Fierce Backbone writers and actors who came — your presence very much helps foster the feeling of community in our group.
A tip of the hat to friends Carol and Stewart who were in the audience — what a joy to see you both.
Blessings to the actors who donated their time and talents to the reading. I know it was tough doing it with just two rehearsals — as I said to a couple of them, you had to walk & chew gum & relate & ride a roller coaster & read lines all at the same time and that’s difficult. Thank you for your vulnerability and passion on stage, you willingness to dive in and commit to the characters. They very much seemed alive to me.
Thank you to director Sabrina Lloyd who took on this job and then had a number of life challenges come your way in August and September. Thank you for persevering.
Finally, mucho gratitude to Sabina Ptasznik for putting it all together and your support in countless ways.
I asked the woman who literally wrote the book on writing business plans for films to read my film’s business plan (for a fee). She lives about four blocks from me. When I learned this, I thought it was a sign from God: Get over there and get the EXPERT to weigh in.
The first words out of her mouth were, “You have to take the tone out that you don’t think it’ll make money.” I guess my worries were pretty transparent. I smiled politely and didn’t let on that all summer I’ve been wrestling with art-investor-money thoughts.
Perhaps you, too, have had thoughts like these as you waded into figuring out how to finance your plays, your projects:
Does all art have to make money? (Of course it doesn’t. Uh, but then… how do we pay investors back?)
Use art patrons! They love supporting creative stuff after a hard day at the office making boat loads of money! (Yeah, but still.)
Okay then, can I make a film for free? (No. I want to pay the cast and crew – and pay them more than food.)
Can I do the puppet version of the film for $25? (No! Ick!)
And then in a film’s business plan you have to do a chart of PROJECTED REVENUE. That’s right, putting on your best prognosticator wizard hat, you look at the first, second and third year life of the film and take a shot at guessing how much money will come rolling in. (Aren’t you glad you work in Equity Waver Theatre? Can you imagine doing that for your original play that’s opening down there at Santa Monica Blvd. and Lillian Way?)
These conversations in my head make me feel as if I’m constantly justifying my film. As if wanting to do it isn’t reason enough.
I will close with a snippet from screenwriter Charlie Kaufman’s speech at BAFTA in 2011 (thank you to a previous L.A.F.P.I. blogger who told us about his speech) from which I take some comfort:
“What can be done? Say who you are, really say it in your life and in your work. Tell someone out there who is lost, someone not yet born, someone who won’t be born for 500 years. Your writing will be a record of your time. It can’t help but be that. But more importantly, if you’re honest about who you are, you’ll help that person be less lonely in their world because that person will recognize him or herself in you and that will give them hope. It’s done so for me and I have to keep rediscovering it. It has profound importance in my life. Give that to the world, rather than selling something to the world. Don’t allow yourself to be tricked into thinking that the way things are is the way the world must work and that in the end selling is what everyone must do. Try not to.”
We’ve all heard about the miracle of childbirth. And no — not the miracle of human emerging from human: the miracle that causes the memory of its agony to diminish almost immediately after it happens. Well, it’s been almost six months since The Laughing Cow, the play I wrote and co-produced, opened. As I contemplate embarking on the process again, I thought it might be worthwhile to take a stroll down the memory lane of angst, neurosis and borderline alcoholism that accompanied the birthing process to see if that same miracle applies.
It’s one thing to produce a play; it’s another to produce your own play; another thing entirely to produce your own play that involves fifteen actors, multiple scene changes, a six-week rehearsal schedule and a shoestring budget. But that’s beside the point; any playwright-slash-producer in this position can understand the uniqueness of the role and just how freaking lonely it is.
That’s right. Six months later, as magical, life-affirming and miraculous as it was, what resonates the most glaringly is the lonely feeling I experienced a good amount of the time. For one thing, whoever said that no one cares about your play as much as you do was dead right. As great a production team as I had, there was just that much more at stake for me. Many a day did I (silently) freak out over someone’s not responding to an email or completing a task they were assigned. Who cares that they had a job or a husband — the highly hormonal pregnant woman in me was screeching (silently). This is my baby! Crowning! Stop what you’re doing and help me!
Then, production and, to continue with the metaphor, the cord has been cut. And yet despite the outpouring of love and support from family, friends, dentist, therapist, hair stylist and acupuncturist alike, why didn’t I enjoy it more as I watched my amazing actors speak my words and get laughs? Why did I sit in abject terror night after night, to the point where a car alarm down the street heard (by me) during the show would send me (silently) into righteous indignation? My own unique neuroses aside, I can only offer this: my work was done. As everyone else manned the light booth or acted, I was there watching. Judging. Worrying. And that, my friends, can be very lonely.
After most shows, we’d celebrate at our local watering hole-slash-cool gastropub. The actors, those lucky sons of bitches, had their catharsis on stage. My terror was still with me, only mitigated by a shot or three. They’d chat, watch sports. I would feel a great sense of accomplishment but still, a part of me was still back there. Why didn’t we fill the house? Why didn’t the audience laugh at the funniest line I’ve ever written in my life?
I don’t mean to sound bleak. Would I do it again? I would and will, even if nature didn’t do enough of her part to dull the memory of some of the aches and pains. The magic, the communal effort, the gift of working with so many awesome talents to create something we will always share — that made it all worth it.
And who knows — next time I may have to do it au naturel, that is to say, without the alcohol.
Hi, my name is Jessica Abrams and it’s been a year since I’ve worked on a new play.
I’ve mulled ideas over, even jotted some thoughts down (you know the kind: you look back at them in a year’s time and they make absolutely no sense) but no scribbles have given birth to characters who then tell a story, and no story keeps me up at night or distracts me from the nastiest of Real Housewives catfights. And even though in said year I’ve produced a play of mine, written a spec script for an existing TV show, worked and re-worked a pilot pitch, pitched that pilot at various studios, had two readings of other plays, fostered a pitbull, deep-cleaned my kitchen and gotten on intimate terms with several Facebook friends and their families, I miss waking up in the morning energized to see what those kooky kids — my characters in a good mood (or me in a good mood? It’s often hard to differentiate) — have to say. I miss the exhilarating feeling that comes with creating an entire world out of a handful of people and a stage.
If this were a support group as opposed to a one-sided blog post, I would ask you, fellow creative talents, to share any thoughts you may have on this subject. I do have a few flimsy hypotheses myself. For instance, the thought crossed my mind that maybe I’m spoiled. The last four plays I wrote came with an ease that I still to this day marvel at. The characters in The Laughing Cow, the play I co-produced last Spring, ambushed me as I was walking across the Disney lot, where I was working at the time (and on which the fictional company in the play is “loosely” based). A tiff with a 20-something hipster neighbor over the well-being of her cat spawned Easter in Tel Aviv. A handful of ex-boyfriends came back for a few more rounds and poof — a one-woman show. Spoiled or intimidated? That’s the question I often ask myself.
There’s another issue here too. Not (yet!) being paid to write my plays I have the luxury of being able to write what I want. But that can create an added burden. I had the amazing fortune of attending the Kennedy Center Playwriting Intensive two summers ago and the opportunity to hear Marsha Norman speak. She implored us to search within our souls for that thing we are trying to exorcise — which is essentially who we are — and to shape our stories around that. Find it before writing, she said. Figure that out. (And anyone who was with me that day — including Ms. Norman herself — who may have experienced that talk differently, please accept time and historical relativism as my disclaimer). I think there’s a lot to be said for understanding that deep need, but I’m also willing to accept that those questions can get answered once the writing has begun. Thoughts?
I’m always amazed (and a little jealous) at my friends getting their MFAs and how tight their deadlines are. I know from the Kennedy Center that a creative environment fosters creativity; or is it simply being scared shitless by a particular professor? My point is…? I’m not sure what it is, exactly. Maybe I’m just “sharing”, as they call it in 12-step programs. The truth is, I miss being in that heightened creative state — it gets me up in the morning. It fills me with joy like nothing else. It connects me with myself. I think I need to jump-start a new play.
The Södra Teatern is theater complex in Stockholm, Sweden is located at the top of a steep cobblestoned street (“steep” as in the Santa Monica Pier ramp), overlooking waterways, carrying boats of all kinds. Six small theaters are spread up and down this scenic hill, connected by dozens of iron stairs. There, all nearly three hundred of us scampered or in my case, limped from readings to workshops, dashing back to the huge, old main theatre, and its red plush seats.
OKAY. I’M STOPPING RIGHT HERE.
It was my intention to fill this blog with keen and incisive impressions of the many workshops and keynote events I attended at the Women Playwrights International Conference, in Stockholm, Sweden last month. Seriously. I had my trusty steno pad, Bic AND Sharpie pens with me at all times. The one thing I forgot was how the Universe gets a hearty chuckle at all of my good intentions. As usual, the Universe had an agenda all its own.
The message: see what comes along, listen, take notes and tell these stories to as many people as possible.
HOW WE LOOK TO OTHERS
One day, I missed a keynote speech when a young playwright from Serbia took me aside. It seemed so urgent to her — this woman with eyes downcast and in a quiet voice to speak of her country of origin. She feared that I and the other Americans attending would be mad at her for atrocities “put upon Muslims.” I doubted if she was old enough to have been alive during that terrible time. Still, here was this beautiful, young, talented person, taking the guilt of a whole country onto her little shoulders. Once she saw that she wasn’t about to automatically be condemned, we created a great conversation in our new international language – that of the female dramatist. My advice to her – put it all into your next play.
HOW WE LOOK TO OTHERS AND DON’T KNOW WHY
A few days later, I gave up my spot on a workshop waiting list in order to sit on a bench in the square outside the main theatre, doing an impromptu reading of my Eileen Heckart Award winning play, HAPPY AND GAY, with the wonderful Swedish actress, Ulla-Britt Norrman. She was a brilliant ‘Betty’ to my so-so ‘Veronica.’ I looked up from the script to see a small crowd had gathered around us. We even got a bit of applause. In retrospect, maybe I should have passed a hat. Afterwards, I had to explain why ‘Veronica’ was so worried about the ramifications of the first gay wedding in their church. Ulla wanted to know why there was much “gay fear” in America. The more I tried to explain gay rights in America, a realization crept into my consciousness. What’s the big deal about America’s gay rights? I have no clue.
A WALK IN THE STONE GARDEN/ROLLING HEAD SCARVES INTO TURBANS
My new friend, the beloved Lia Gladstone, made an unexpected appearance at the Columbus Hotell (yes, two “l’s), where I was staying. She had just gotten in from a long flight and needed a good walk and talk before the arrival of her charges, the young women who would perform their “Afghan Voices” presentation later in the week. Lia knew from the moment they arrived from Afghanistan, she would have to constantly be there for them, giving multiple interviews with the press and shepherd her charges to the various public events.
Since this might be her one rare, peaceful moment before the impending media storm, I suggested we take a stroll through the Katarina Churchyard, located behind the Columbus Hotell. We walked and sat on benches, listening to the church bells dutifully toll every fifteen minutes. As a family of rabbits, the graveyard’s unofficial grounds keepers, nibbled on the grave side flowers Lia and I quietly chatted about everything from our lives, writing and eventually to her work teaching drama to young girl orphans in Kabul. Lia moved me to tears as she described giving one little girl a head scarf to play with for an improv exercise. The child rolled the scarf up, making it into a turban, the symbol of masculine power in Afghanistan. Lia said she looked out over the rest of the class, watching all of the other little girls empower themselves by rolling up their head scarfs into turbans and wearing them.
CATCHING POLITICAL LIGHTNING
With my Steno pad, Bic and Sharpie in hand, I was bound and determined to take the iron stairs from the main theatre down to KGB West in order to find the director of “Isaac, I am,” my play to be presented the next day. Once again, the cosmic chuckle materialized into a downpour outside. About a hundred of us were caught in the lobby, awaiting the rain’s end when Van Badham, a fresh, fierce playwright from Australia, climbed up a couple of stairs and called for our attention. She announced the conviction of members from the Pussy Riot punk group, who had broken into a church and recorded a protest song about Putin in Russia.
Leaning on her cane (“I have a bum ankle,” she told me later), Van’s strong, clear voice delivered her message, electrifying the room. She announced an impromptu march from the theater to downtown Stockholm. The place went wild! With Van’s permission, I recorded her repeating the announcement on my little camera as she stood on the stage of the big red-plush-seated theatre. Lightning struck again! A few moments later, I sat with Van, as she gave a quiet, focused statement. She was illuminated only by a single window, which gradually brightened with the passing of the storm.
See below– these are short. Feel free to share these links.
Van’s announcement on stage:
Van’s quiet, focused statement:
I shared these links with Hettie Lynn Hurtes at KPCC/National Public Radio in Los Angeles. She passed them on to her colleagues.
MISSING THE GUERRILLA GIRLS FOR A DANCING AFGHAN VOICE
You gotta hand it to the organizers of the WPIC. Besides hosting 275 playwrights from dozens of countries, they fed us, provided those who had play presentations with excellent directors and actors, who gave our work respectful and often brilliant treatment. The cast in my Helford Prize winning “Isaac, I am” was so enthused, they honored me with requests for full copies of the play so they could find out how it ended.
Yes. The organizers did a wonderful job. The only problem? There was too much ‘wonderful.’ It was physically impossible to see absolutely everything. On Saturday night, August 18, I had to choose between attending two performances in different venues at virtually the same time; Afghan Voices or the Gueerilla Girls. Hoping to catch up with the Guerrilla Girls back in the states, I chose to support Lia Gladstone and her Afghan performers.
We were mesmerized as one young woman made the stage her own with a self-choreographed hip-hop dance, while rapping her own lyrics. While I wish I could have translated her words, in the end it didn’t matter. What transcended any language issues was her joyous defiance and courage in the face of possible dire consequences back home. Her spirit moves me to this moment.
I’m writing from this from home with the Democratic Convention livestreaming on my laptop beside me. My poor steno pad is within reach, its Bic and Sharpie waiting patiently nearby. Before the WPIC, my biggest concerns were working to get productions and hoping for good reviews.
Spending one extraordinary week with these women playwrights and performers who, every single day put it all on the line while expressing their art has given me a greater appreciation of the freedom we have always known, must protect and encourage in others.
And so I spent a part of my childhood confessing to the lies I told.
It was a strange world to inhabit – telling lies and not realizing that all of them were lies. I saw some of them as negotiations so I wouldn’t get in trouble. Some of them were fantasies I wanted to believe in – and some of them were – embroideries. Just little – twists – on what might have been true. Some of them were whoppers I wanted to get some kind of seismic reaction.
When I performed as an actor onstage – I never considered the scripts as lies, but as the truth being revealed to those listening. (Audience memeber: “How could you remember all those lines?” Me: “Simple – they were all lies.”) (Okay, that’s a lie I never said that but I could have.)
Now I’m writing a script where there are lies – or half-lies – half truths in abundance. It’s interesting to re-visit that land again where the lies are hard to define.
Here’s a Ted Talk where Pamela Meyer talks about “Spotting a Lie”. I’m not sure I agree with all of her evidence – but I found it fascinating:
I love to hear people laugh. Sometimes at the expense of other experiences. But I’m looking at the ways I ask the audience to witness conflict. Laughter is a such a great release/exclamation of surprise/recognition of a conflict. It can also blow out the rising tension to a simmer.
This is the bit that really resonated with me from that speech:
“This is a little thing that I wrote, that’s just a personal thing for me, and it’s very… I don’t know, but you’ll see. But I hate this, so I’m just going to share with you that I hate it. ‘Do not write jokes to your readers in your stage directions.’ You know what I mean by that? People do that. Don’t do that. Your job is to create an atmosphere. You’re trying to establish a mood. You’re writing a story and what you’re trying to do is to help this large group of people who are going to come together to understand the tone and the spirit and the feeling of this movie so that they can come together and make it. That’s what you should spend your time on, not with winks and stuff. Not winking at people.”
I’m reminded of this when I recently saw “To Have and Have Not” and watched Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart. I love their incredible chemisty – the kind of winking and nodding that they had with one another, a real shorthand of reaching out in their characters (and in real life). The audience gets to enjoy their connection with one another because its with one another – not with the audience.
I was in a Commedia d’elle Arte show many years ago and the character Arlecchino would go out in the audence to do his lazzi (improve/tricks) and he would engage in the most overdone winking/poking/nodding gambits to get the audience to play with him. It was awful. You could see the audience cringing to get away from his aggressive asides.
And then, there was a day when I was in a business meeting, and a very attractive woman who was leading the agenda said something that just didn’t sound – true. And she turned to me, looked at my bug eyed reaction and with a pointed slyness, gave me a sultry wink. It thrilled me to have a secret between us. I nodded my head as if I was listening to her but I felt like I had been given a slight electrical shock. Later on, I found out that she winked at a lot of people in meetings. But I’ve never forgotten that moment.
This past week I was offered the opportunity to read a friend’s screenplay – and it’s good. Very good. The setting is good, the characters are interesting and fraught, and there’s a great theme in back of the action. But I loved the dialogue. The smartness that comes from the voices of what these people have to say, and how much they leave out of their conversations.
I also read a wonderful short novel, “An Uncommon Reader’, by Alan Bennett. I had never heard of this book (although I loved Alan Bennett’s work as a playwright and screenwriter). He has crafted a wonderful story with very little dialogue.
There’s a great review of the book in the New York Times:
“Queen Elizabeth is known for loving her horses and her corgis. She has sat, reportedly, for more than 120 portraits, conferred some 400,000 honors and awards, met with a long parade of prime ministers and attended countless garden parties and receptions. She has frequently been described as an exemplary monarch, dedicated and dutiful and decent. And just as frequently described as a forbidding mother, chilly and withholding and given to playing ostrich whenever it comes to emotions.”
The conversations from Queen Elizabeth are terse and wonderfully correct. It was a great read – and reminded me of the pleasures of reading Robertson Davies, another author who writes wonderful conversations in his novels.
It’s been a great week to discover two examples of dialogue. And it’s only Wednesday.
Having struggled with various forms of “writers block” this past year – I feel as though I’ve been in a medievel village visting each possible healer: the herbalist to the priest to the witch to the tarot card reader to try and break the spell. I did in fact find a way to get writing again – very reluctantly – I had to share my writings with a group again. Being accountable to a group reading of my script made me “show up”.
I recently found this list from the Dramatist Guild and I have to say I laughed when I realized I had tried almost everyone of these 101 Tips. Some of my trials with changing my writing space, drinking a cocktail, playing Angry Birds (okay that isn’t in the list but it was something I tried to get my brain to “play”), none of these seemed to have any beneficial results for me. But I did find the list a great compilation of all the ways we try and get our spirit to show up on the page:
101 Tips to Fight & Overcome Writer’s Block
by GetFreeEbooks.com
Read and write often.
Make PROCRASTINATION your biggest enemy.
Your draft, visual sketches, videos, initial framework are your best friends. Always refer to them again if you’re stuck.
Draw! yes, draw. By drawing, you’re expressing yourself in a different way / through a different channel (not in words). This might help to picture out what you couldn’t put in words in the first place. In fact drawing is very similar to writing as it exercises the right creative side of your brain.
Simplicity – For some, style of writing, strong words, flowery phrases, etc. are their main priorities. Don’t worry too much on those matters, go simple and focus on wording out the flow of your ideas, then focus on the beautification process.
Find your golden hour, what time are you at your optimum efficiency level. Are you a morning person? A night owl?
Change your surroundings. Focus on getting to a location which is comfortable for you. If you prefer a busy place with crowd and a lot of noises, find one. If you prefer a quite place, find a library, etc.
Get your blood moving – exercise, move around, swim. Go for a short road trip.
Try aromatherapy.
Play some games. It doesn’t matter whether it’s from your Iphone, or from your computer. Good games with some engaging story lines can trigger new ideas and strategies on how to write.
Play Pictionary– By observing on how different players draw out their words / phrases, you can try to practice new ways of outlining your storyline. Or just have fun while you’re taking your short breaks.
Play typing games– Those random generated sentences that you have to type as fast as you can, may represent great source of ideas.
Play around with your emotions (at least not intentionally) and take advantage of it . Certain emotions might prepare yourself to write differently and provide you with the variety you need.
Be an adrenaline junkie, jump on the roller coaster, go for bungee jumping, etc. Try experiencing something you’ve never done before. For some, this triggers a new set of feelings which you can apply it on your writing.
Get rid of any negative emotions. When you’re bothered, your mind is confused. Fix your problems, run your errands, solve everything that you can think of, and let your mind to focus on one and only one thing – your writing.
Brainwash yourself to erase terms such as writer’s block from your mind. For all you know it’s just laziness. (Refer to point no 2).
Eat healthy food, and eat well. Your mind does not function well on an empty stomach.
Being equipped with information is the key to a smooth free flow of ideas. Keep a writers journal, keep receipts, items, pictures, souvenirs, presents or any items that can aid you in your writing.
Go to places which you think will give you ideas (closely related to the story you’re writing). Don’t forget to bring a paper and a pen, or anything that you write them on (iPhone, digital notebook, iPad, etc.). The last thing you want happening to you is knocking yourself on the head for not being able to remember.
When you’re not progressing in your writing, write / note down everything you can think of, even if it’s bad. Lower your standards and keep writing. You can refer to them later and might conveniently construct a new idea. In other words, don’t be a perfectionist at this point of time, just write what you can think of, as you can always edit it later. Even if it’s not related to what you’re currently writing, write it down. It might come in handy in your next projects. Abandon nothing when it comes to writing ideas.
Research, research, research. Do your homework.
Instead of following the normal flow of things – research and then write, rehearse what you’re about to write before going out on the field to cover your story.
Unplug the internet, don’t check your emails, don’t log in to your IM. Basically, wipe out all the common distractions.
Or if you happen to work very well with distractions, listen to some music, podcasts, audiobooks, etc. while or when you’re not writing. Alternatively, visit crowded places. Humans are complex beings, some need minor and indirect distractions to be able to function.
Tackle / overcome the most difficult part when you’re fresh (early in the morning, after your run, etc). In the evening if you’re a writing over the graveyard shift.
Coffee, tea or any energy drink – caffeine is a great boost and will stir your mind. Focus and alertness is your priority.
Get sufficient amount of sleep. There’s no point slogging yourself throughout the night, cracking your brain, when nothing is coming out.
Your brain needs some rest as well. Exhaustion is not an option – take a break. Perhaps a short nap could help a great deal in thinking department. For those who are gifted enough to remember their own dreams, this is another platform where you can extract ideas from. Our brain is by far the best story generator and movie director one can ever find.
Alcohol, not in excessive amount though.
Talk to your writer friends / close friends, get their opinions, what they have in mind, etc. Go for constructive suggestions, balance out between compliments and unpleasant remarks.
Set a personal dateline – some authors work better under pressure, some don’t. Change your dateline according to your comfort level.
Time is a very important factor, regardless you’re within a dateline or not. Always start early, prepare yourself sufficiently and this should minimize any obstacles you may find.
Commit yourself to achieving a word count, not writing for a certain amount of time. Aim for your optimum number of words, double it if you feel good. Otherwise, just aim for your minimum.
If you have published a few books before, read your readers’ comments. Their comments and suggestions might give you some idea on how to proceed and improve.
Start of the end. Instead of writing from start to end, write from end to start. Formulate an ending and figure out how it starts and how it flows. Or you can even start in the middle. Start with a few short stories if you think it will help your readers to understand better. Throw in poems, historical facts, etc.
Reward yourself – if you manage to conquer a difficult part of your writer’s block, reward yourself to a good weekend with your friends and family, etc. An unhealthy sinful food you’ve always been craving for. When you’re emotionally contented, things might come in more naturally in the next stages of writing.
Talk to yourself. Some might think you’re crazy, but saying it out loud is a brilliant way of bringing clarity and to explore the different options that might come. Speak. Shout. Get a tape recorder, a microphone perhaps? etc. Sometimes ideas travel faster from the brain to the mouth than from the brain to the hand.
Question yourself continuously and consistently. Perhaps religiously? You never know what kind of answers you might come up yourself. Instead of plotting what to write next, write down questions instead. Then move on.
Handwrite instead of typing it in your computer.
Try to distract yourself with meaningless activities like copying a paragraph of your story into Google translate, translate it into another language and change it back to the original. Inspirations might be nonexistent from this method, but at least you can have a good laugh from the results. The “modifications” from the translations could be a reward in disguise – a new writing style perhaps?
Typing in phrases into search engines and look at how are these phrases are written. You may discover new building blocks you may keep for later reference.
Don’t be afraid to experiment, people tend to learn faster and better when they do mistakes.
Work on more than one project at a time. It helps to minimize fear, monotony, and boredom. It seems to prevent writer’s block for many people.
Get counseling, many therapists specialize in helping artists and writers reconnect with their creativity.
Motivation – Who are you writing this book for? Why are you writing this book? If you can focus on questions like these and enhance them by visualizing them constantly, they should aid you in your writing process. Don’t underestimate the drive that can be derived from motivation and results. Imagine the rewards you’ll gain from consistent visits to the gym. Similarly, you’ll write more and more often, whenever you start noticing that you’re writing much more efficiently. Improvements = results. (Refer to point no 1).
Try writing exercises – loosen up the mind and get you to write things you would never write otherwise.
It’s not the words, but your vision, try to narrow down on the topic. Starting from a Country > Town > Street > Shops > People > Walls > Bricks, etc. Start with the favorite object in the story, use an object as a topic of discussion.
Think differently and find connections between seemingly unrelated concepts and items. E.g. Try connecting the dot between a car and a piece of rubber band. This might stimulate some unused sections of your thinking cap, and trigger some brand new ideas.
Imagine / put yourself in the shoes of different characters and objects. Think the impossible – try to imagine yourself as a 100 year old tree, being a grizzly bear’s claw sharpener. How would you feel and do? Attack different scenarios from a different standpoint.
Ask yourself why and where are you getting stuck? Focus on the issue and do a research on all possible scenarios involving that particular topic that you’re not able to continue. How if, What if, etc.
Set your priorities, your main focus.
Stop being a perfectionist throughout your writing process.
Don’t rewrite until you’re done. Focus on your structure, flow and ideas. Corrections and beautifications can come later. Learn how to prioritize your time between composing and editing.
If you can’t find the proper phrase, write down whatever comes into your mind, highlight it / bracket it, and then come back later if you’ve found out the proper phrase to use.
Prepare yourself a set of phrases that can be used as your building blocks, e.g. due to the fact that, it is imperative that, etc. You can also utilize different words and sentences.
Your goal is not to write the greatest article or poem for how-to guide or epic novel ever created. Your goal is to satisfy yourself.
Perform interviews, distribute questionnaire and run surveys.
Pretend somebody important to be your fan. Your former English teacher? JK Rowling? Imagine yourself writing for someone else who is interested in your topic of writing. The urge to impress motivates one beautifully.
Ensure writing is your passion. There’s nothing wrong writing when you spend your whole life climbing rocks. It’s just easier to accomplish something when passion is the main pillar of support.
Don’t feel down or demotivated when you’re going nowhere, it happens even to the best and most experienced writers. The last thing you want to worry is about false impressions that you’re incapable of writing. You are a great writer.
Join a writers group. Get together, throw out your notebook or iPad, whichever you’re comfortable with and start writing. The presence of individuals with similar objectives and obstacles could push you forward, unknowingly.
Try to think like a chatterbox (or observe one). On how they can present a topic and then move on gracefully to another subject which has no relation whatsoever with the main topic of conversation, should give you some strategies on how you can approach your own story progressions. And it’s not that difficult to find one these days, if you’re not one of them.
Make use of the thesaurus. List down a list of words, run them through thesaurus and see what you can find. Their meanings and usage can open a door to brand new ideas and writing styles. Explore the synonyms and antonyms as well.
Vary your writing styles & approaches:-
Describing people, places & things
Narrating events
Explaining a process step by step (Instructional)
Clarification & Explanation
Comparing & Contrasting
Classifying & Dividing
Examining Causes & Effects
Arguing & Persuading
Reviews & Predictions
Lists
Case Studies
Problems & Solutions
Rantings
Inspirational
Research
Debate
Hypothetical
Satirical
Dig back your old writing materials. Still keeping your old writing assignments? You might get lucky and find some great ideas you’ve kept aside long time ago.
Dig into your email account and re-visit the conversations you had with your contacts, the ideas you shared and the things you discussed.
If you’re a travel writer, even a small item like a used cigarette butt can generate / trigger new ideas. Keep all the items and capture all information that you’ve encountered during your journey. Take pictures, videos, audio recordings, etc.
Read other books (bookshop or any other books you already have). Read online to experience a variety of new storytelling forms. Go with topics outside your discipline, such as architecture, astronomy, economics or photography.
Join a writing contest or submit your short stories. Just a small one to pull you out of your “routine”. Your new writing task and your sense of accomplishment after submitting your entry, hopefully, will clear off some of the obstacles blocking your ideas to flow.
Studying the lives of other writers can also provide insight into why you’re blocked.
Read all the latest news in one place – PopURLs.com
Go and catch a movie, incidents happening in the storyline might help. Or if you’re busy, watch online movies (Youtube, Metacafe, Dailymotion, Vimeo & VideoJug).
Take advantage of the keyword tools out there. You’ll be amazed what can be derived from just a single word. Use this tool and expand your ideas. – Google Keyword Tool
Facebook (Browse Pages | Foupas or YourOpenBook – Facebook Search Engines), or you can basically search for anything when you’re logged in.
Get a proper writing software, or something that you’re comfortable with. Getting rid of small annoyances (lack of certain functionality, no auto save / backup feature, etc.) such as this can free up more room for effective thinking. We would recommend Evernote.
Summertime and the livin’ is… loud and over the top. Yes, ’tis the season for blockbusters. Non-stop action, action, action and special effects galore on the silver screen and even theatre has been getting into the act of late – one dimensional characters, lots of music and skimpy dialogue. Every time some big new spectacle comes down the pike, whether it’s on the screen or a stage, I sigh and think back to one of my favorite theatrical experiences. It was as minimal as it gets.
Way back in the 1980s when I was working at Actors Theatre of Louisville, we used to send plays overseas. The program was under the banner of the USIA, the United States Information Agency. USIA was around from 1953 to 1999 and was devoted to “public diplomacy.” As President Eisenhower said, the USIA’s mission was “to understand, inform and influence foreign publics in promotion of the national interest, and to broaden the dialogue between Americans and U.S. institutions, and their counterparts abroad.”
Fortunately, we didn’t send Spiderman Turn Off The Dark overseas. At ATL one year we sent Of Mice and Men.
Just before the actors were heading off to, was it Japan that year? Romania? Anyway, those of us on staff went to watch a final rehearsal. All of the furniture, props and costumes had already been packed and sent. We watched the play in a rehearsal room in the middle of the afternoon – full daylight and not even a blackout at the end of the acts as an effect.
Ken Jenkins played George and Bill Smitrovich played Lenny. There was nothing but the story and fine actors. I was sitting about ten feet from them, completely riveted.
Spoiler alert. At the end of the play, George, the “mastermind” has decided the best thing to do is to shoot Lenny, his hulking, simple-minded friend. Ken as George points his finger – his finger! Not even a GUN! – at the back of Bill/Lenny’s head, as Lenny looks off in the distance hoping for a farm and rabbits. I was a puddle. Tears were falling. It was what you want theatre to be.
Take that Spiderman and your overwrought brethren. You wish you had that kind of impact.
