Chapter 9

Refresh Your Writing Brain

Overcome Writer’s Block

“When you are stuck in a book; when you are well into writing it, and know what comes next, and yet cannot go on; when every morning for a week or a month you enter its room and turn your back on it; then the trouble is either of two things. Either the structure has forked, so the narrative, or the logic, has developed a hairline fracture that will shortly split it up the middle—or you are approaching a fatal mistake. What you had planned will not do. If you pursue your present course, the book will explode or collapse, and you do not know about it yet, quite.”

—Annie Dillard

We’re going to go there, right now, even though it might lead to automatic resistance: Writer’s block is a myth. It is not something that always existed; in fact, the concept originated in the early nineteenth century when the English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge first described his “indefinite indescribable terror” at not being able to produce work he thought worthy of his talent. Romantic English poets of the time believed their poems magically arrived from an external source, so when their pens dried up and the words did not flow, they assumed the spirits, the gods, and/or their individual muses were not visiting them with favor. French writers soon latched onto the idea of a suffering connected to writing and expanded it to create the myth that all writers possessed a tortured soul, unable to write without anguish. Later, the anxiety (the artistic inhibition) that often accompanies writing was blamed on, or turned into, neurosis, depression, alcoholism, and drug addiction. On good days, writers suffered for their art, and never so much as when they allowed psychological issues to thwart their ability to write.

But this is a book about neuroscience and writing, so false mental constructs will be appropriately dismissed. Here’s the simple truth: The very nature of the art of writing incorporates uncertainty, experimentation, and a willingness to create art from the depths of who we are. Writing is a mentally challenging occupation which requires more hard-core, cognitive expenditure than many other lines of work. Here’s another truism: Lots and lots of adults don’t like to think; once they have an occupation that provides a living and keeps them relatively happy, they prefer to live in a mentally remote world where they have a job they can do, sans hard-core thinking.

But writers have to think and think hard—and we have to think beyond mastering craft into creating works full of meaning, purpose, and nobility—and then editing and selling them. So, to even assume that this should go smoothly—particularly in the slogging middle—is to be misguided. Writing is not for sissies, and if you intend to write novels, screenplays, or plays, it will not be easy, and you will often come up against a wall of resistance. Just don’t call it “writer’s block,” call it what it is: not being prepared to move to the next level.

That being said, a discouraging loss of steam strikes even the best and most prolific writers. Even though it’s natural, and fairly predictable, one must never linger, which is why this chapter will offer a spate of ideas to break the spell and get your writing brain back on track. But we begin, of course, with reasons why all writers get stalled.

You’ve Lost Your Way

All writers reach a point when they lose their way, their work veering off into unforeseen directions or experiencing a surprise (like when a character you didn’t anticipate shows up). Rather than permitting this to sabotage your momentum, take a day or two to rethink your story (or project). Identify the holdup, and loosely dance around it a few days. If it’s a character issue, go to the library, pull some of your favorite books off the shelves, and see how writers you admire dealt with similar problems. If it’s a setting issue, visit the place in question, or a similar site, and spend some time absorbing elements that you can weave into the story.

Do the Opposite of What You Typically Do

With fiction, some writers do a lot of prep work (creating character bios, plotting out the storyline, researching for authentic elements to integrate, visiting possible settings, and so on); some writers create broad outlines consisting mostly of major plot points and/or scenes; some writers create detailed outlines that include every scene they want to write; and some writers start with the germ of an idea (a beginning scene, the ending, a character, a situation, a real-life event), sit down, and let the words flow onto the page.

If you’re stalled because you lost your way, try the opposite of what you usually do—if you’re a plotter, give your imagination free rein for a day; if you’re a freewriter or a pantser, spend a day creating a list of the next ten scenes that need to happen. This gives your brain a challenge, and for this reason you can take heart, because your billions of neurons love a challenge and are in search of synapses they can form. You can practically feel the dendrites fluttering their spiny little arms.

Look at the Big Picture

If you’re having trouble identifying the problem, your perspective may be too constricted. Try pulling back, both mentally and emotionally. Go as far back as it takes for you to be able to view the work as a whole and, hopefully, view it more objectively. Think about how the story is working on a larger scale, give yourself credit for getting this far, and then hone in on what you think may be the hitch. Maybe you think your character has turned into a caricature or the plotline is too weak. If that’s the case, look through the previous fifty pages for ways you can tweak it to achieve what you want. Often the brilliance is right there, just waiting for you to claim it. And once you’ve fixed the perceived problem, your flow will likely return—along with a fired up writing brain.

Give Your Brain a Puzzle

Sometimes, even if you’re someone who hates anything that smacks of an outline, thinking about scenes, plot points, character arcs, subplots, the climax, final scenes, and so on will spark new ideas. Remember, your brain responds to stimuli and seeks to create patterns. If you delineate what the problems are and put some thought into how to solve them, your brain will start searching for links, combing memory, forming new synapses, and serving up fresh ideas. Just give it the input it needs, a little time, and maybe a night’s rest, and it will come to your rescue.

Your Passion Has Waned

It happens. Because writing a novel requires immersion—thinking about it, crafting it, dreaming about it, obsessing about it—your brain may be on overload or just bored. It doesn’t mean that your writing is boring; it means that you’ve worked and reworked the material so much that it now feels, sounds, or reads boring—to your mind. A pair of fresh eyes would likely have a more objective opinion, though it’s not time to ask for outside eyes. Asking now may invite uninformed opinions (no one will have invested as much as you have to date) that make you question everything, and editing while writing can stifle creativity. Wait until the first draft is complete and it’s time to edit, before allowing yourself, or others, to question your creative decisions or, worse yet, to nitpick. Usually it’s best to just keep writing forward. Whatever you imagine to be a problem will likely iron itself out in the rewrite—and yes, you will have to rewrite, likely more than once.

Don’t Make It a Pattern

Lots of writers discard projects at this stage, often lamenting that they just lost the juice they needed to keep going. They chalk it up to choosing the wrong project, the wrong genre, the wrong topic, the wrong characters, or whatever. That may be the case, but if feeling bored about a third of the way in becomes a pattern, it’s likely more about you than about the story, characters, or subject matter. Either that, or you need to spend more time thinking and prepping before you commit to a project. Remember, your writing brain looks for and responds to patterns, so be careful that you don’t make succumbing to boredom or surrendering projects without a fight into a habit. Do your best to work through the reasons you got stalled and to finish what you started. This will lay down a neuronal pathway that your writing brain will merrily travel along in future work.

Go Where There’s Heat

When it comes to writing a nonfiction book, such as this one, the publisher requires a detailed outline, as well as a formal proposal, before they contract to publish a nonfiction book. Convinced their “good idea” and any kind of writing résumé should be sufficient, new writers moan about having to create a formal nonfiction book proposal (including memoirs), especially that detailed outline. Creating the outline (and proposal) can feel like a lot to do upfront, as it requires research, contemplation, planning, concentrating, and commitment—with no guarantee that it will be purchased; but, in truth, the formal proposal and outline provide a road map, which usually helps the writing proceed much more smoothly.

When the writer bogs down halfway, he can use the outline to help him get back on his feet by writing at a different place in the book. He can simply read down the list of topics not yet discussed and choose one that holds more appeal, or that doesn’t require as much concentration. An outline can also help the writer go where there’s “heat” (something that excites the brain) and avoid the need to push through rough patches. This really helps your writing brain stay engaged and helps you avoid getting so stuck that you lose momentum.

Reexamine Your Motives

If you’ve lost steam and fear it’s because you’ve chosen the wrong subject, take a day or two to do, read, or think about something else. Before you go back to the manuscript, ask yourself these three probing questions to reveal the real reason you chose this topic, these characters, this storyline, this theme, and so on:

• What drove me to write about this in the first place?
• Why did I feel that this was worth a year of my time?
• What is it that I wanted the world to know?

If your reasons remain solid, true, and important enough to you, you’ll likely spark a few “grass fires” into your neuronal forest, which will send you rushing to your desk to get words on paper.

Reexamine the Work Itself

Perhaps you’re more frustrated than bored or uninspired, and are giving up too easily? Perhaps you’ve come against an element that feels too challenging? Perhaps you’ve been letting someone else’s opinion into the room? Review the work itself. Often there is an element that needs to be reworked and you just haven’t wanted to dig into it—easier to start over with something new, or at least that’s what you tell yourself. Some people find it easier to get fired up about a new idea than to plunge ahead through the laborious middle (and this pesky setback called being stalled); but if you consistently abandon projects, you’re not likely to complete one soon. Remember that it’s important to set yourself up for success—to set your writing brain up for success. You don’t want to link “failure” with writing.

You Need a Muse

If you fancy thinking that an angel—or muse—stands just behind you, guiding, protecting, and perhaps inspiring you, well, it’s a lovely thought. In fact, neurologically, these types of feelings or sensations often occur when someone is under extreme duress, is sleep deprived, or has been isolated for too long. It also occurs with mental disorders, such as schizophrenia.

Under these circumstances, the brain may lose oxygen and shut down the “rational mind” which can lead to hallucinations—thought to be our mind’s way of re-remembering what it feels like to be around others. And the psychological construct that creates our sense of self (as separate from our brain, which it’s not; it resides primarily in our left temporal lobe), is activated and it “feels” like another being is standing, sitting, breathing beside you. Your psychological sense of self, often referred to as “the mind schema,” coordinates the many independent neural networks that simultaneously process stimuli and coordinate actions in daily living so that you feel like you possess a single mind (and not a bunch of neurons firing in disparate groups). So, when you feel a presence outside of yourself (you could even feel like someone is touching you), it’s basically that internal sensory input temporarily confuses your brain, and your mind goes to work constructing an explanation.

Neuroscientist Michael S. Gazzaniga calls the mind schema that creates these sensations “the left-hemisphere interpreter”—the brain’s storyteller, because it pulls together countless inputs into a meaningful narrative story. Your brain fills in the details from past memory, and you may feel more comfortable, or simply enjoy, imagining the sensation as that of a separate being and thinking of it as an angel, a muse, a ghost, your dead grandmother, or some sort of spirit guide. The good news: There’s no harm in imagining an angel or muse if doing so helps you become the best writer you can be. Just remember that you are creating the illusion and projecting what you desire onto the construct. Whatever wisdom and brilliance you ascribe to the presence already resides in your writing brain.

Own it and call it forth, from within.

You’ve Spent Too Much Time Alone

Writers are, by necessity, solitary beings. Some writers pair up or write as one cog in a team, but most writers write, think, and create alone. Successful writers (successful in terms of completing their work) either love or have made peace with solitude, because we know that’s where the genius arises. Solitude becomes the best way to minimize distractions, to quiet emotions, and to focus the mind. When we are alone, our innermost self feels brave enough to crawl out of the shade into the light. If we’re ever going to hear our innermost self “talking” to us, it will occur in solitude—and we need that voice to make our work original, remarkable, and ingenious.

Still, unless you’re co-writing or part of a writing team, you have likely been sitting in a room alone, scorching your brain cells, pounding out words for hours, and often days, on end. This is, of course, particularly true when a deadline is approaching and you’re holing yourself up in a room, forcing yourself to churn out words at a breakneck pace, working deep into the night.

If writing grinds to a halt, it’s highly likely that what you need most is a break, a chance to let in sunshine and someone else’s voice for a spell. Being around other people is always refreshing, but never more so than when you’ve been working like a maniac behind closed doors.

Your Expectations Are Too High

A mistake many novice writers make is in setting their sights too high, expecting perfection when they have yet to write a complete novel or screenplay. The best advice anyone can give inexperienced writers is to write a first draft as quickly as possible, as good books are not written, but rewritten and rewritten and rewritten. Once you have a first draft, you have a solid base on which to build, and all the “problems” you anticipated will work themselves out as you massage and craft your raw material.

What stops many writers midway is attempting to make the first draft the best they can write. Some believe it’s the way real writers write, which is generally not true; and some believe that perfecting each chapter will relieve them of the need to rewrite, which is also not true. Imposing this unreasonable need for perfection is bound to cause anxiety—and a great deal of frustration.

You’re Creating Your Own Anxiety

Frustration and anxiety are what can lead to a debilitating state of mind. In effect, you are setting your writing brain up for an emotional meltdown. The more pressure you put on yourself, the higher your anxiety level rises and the more writing becomes a signal of danger, which transmits a message straight to your limbic system, triggering fight-or-flight reactions. When that happens, the limbic system stops forwarding messages to the cortex, which is where conscious thought, imagination, and creativity are generated. Instead, your amygdala releases stress hormones, like cortisol and adrenaline, and soon, your heart rate is skyrocketing, your ability to feel emotionally safe enough to write is eroded, and your ability to concentrate vanishes. Who wants that? Who wants to re-create that? Small wonder that you are feeling a resistance to writing.

What you need to do is release those inappropriately high expectations and just pound out that first draft, as fast and furiously as you can. Once you have the bones of a story down, it will be far easier to craft your novel, with a lot less anxiety to gum up the works.

Instead of setting your sights too high, give yourself permission to write anything, on topic or off topic, meaningful or trite, useful or folly. The point is that by attaching so much importance to the work you’re about to do, you make it harder to get into the flow. Also, if your inner critic sticks her nose in (which often happens), tell her that her role is very important to you (and it is!) and that you will summon her when you have something worthy of her attention. That should divert her attention and free you to dive back into the writing pool.

You Are Burned Out

It is quite possible that you’ve simply tapped yourself out. We all have our limits, be they physical, mental, emotional, and all of the aforementioned. If you’ve been pounding out your novel—in addition to working full time—your body and brain may be sending you a potent message to slow down. In a frantically paced life, you may be pushing too hard, raising your expectations too high, and putting too much pressure on yourself. Eventually your body, brain, or emotions are going to rebel and insist on downtime, which may come in the guise of what you may call writer’s block.

But keep this in mind: You aren’t blocked; you’re exhausted. Give yourself a few days to really rest. Lie on a sofa and watch movies, take long walks in the hour just before dusk, go out to dinner with friends, or take a mini-vacation somewhere restful. Do so with intention to give yourself—and your brain—a rest. No thinking about your novel for a week! In fact, no heavy thinking for a week. Lie back, have a margarita, and chill. Once you’re rested, you’ll likely find the desire to write has come roaring back.

Stop Thinking

Have you ever wondered why ideas seem to come easier when you’ve stopped concentrating and gone off to rest, shower, or mow the lawn? When you’re working on a task that requires higher level cognitive functioning, like writing, which requires intense concentration, your brain focuses like a laser on the task at hand, blocking out distractions and relying on existing neuronal connections. But when you break concentration and do something that doesn’t require focused cognitive functioning, your brain is more susceptible to distractions and thus “lets in” a broader range of information, which can lead to imagining more alternatives and making more diverse interpretations—fostering a “think outside the box” mentality and creating the milieu for an aha moment. Scientists have even found that when your brain is a little fuzzy from exertion, it’s a lot less efficient at remembering connections and thereby may be more open to new connections, new ideas, and new ways of thinking.

Take a Nap

Daytime naps have long been a part of many cultures, just not so much in America. In fact, daytime naps have been shown to improve perception and keep you more alert, boost your memory and your creativity, reduce stress, increase optimism, and improve stamina.

Naps can also be beneficial in assisting your brain’s processing of information. When a memory is first recorded in the hippocampus, it’s still tentative and can be easily forgotten, especially if your brain has been busy processing (or being asked to remember) additional stimuli. As with sleeping at night, during naps, your brain is sorting and processing stimuli that occurred before the nap, making decisions on what should be linked and what should be moved to long-term memory or discarded. Studies have shown that participants asked to remember information prior to a break will remember the information far better if they napped for thirty to forty minutes before being asked to recall what they learned. By taking a nap, you may wake up feeling refreshed and often you’ll have a fresh idea because:

• Ideas, thoughts, and associations that don’t pertain to the task at hand were released.
• Important learning has been distributed to, and integrated within, the cortex.
• Existing, relevant synapses were strengthened.
• New neuronal connections occurred while you napped.

Daytime naps may also improve your motor skills, enhance your sex life, and aid in weight loss. Scientists say a five-minute nap is too short (it doesn’t give your brain time to transition into a restful state) and a thirty-minute nap may be too long (the brain may begin transitioning into deep slumber, leaving you drowsy afterwards, instead of refreshed). They say ten to fifteen minutes is just enough to refresh and renew your brain. So, determine what works best for you, and then set aside time for a midday nap to reap cognitive (and other) blessings.

You’re Too Distracted

Few of us have the luxury of being free from distractions. Most of us have jobs, spouses, kids, and responsibilities that occupy a huge amount of our brain space. If your productivity has stalled, or your frustration level has peaked at a new high, it may be that too many other things are on your mind. For many, bill paying and prior commitments begin to nag. There’s just “too much” on your desk—and in your brain. When those distractions mount, it’s often easier and more productive to just stop writing and go take care of your life, to do whatever it is that is causing you to feel pressured.

Identify Your Distractions

If it’s a persistent problem, then you’ll want to figure out what you need to do to dedicate yourself to writing. Maybe it’s hiring a babysitter four hours a day for a few days each week; or maybe it’s inviting all your friends to lunch rather than parceling out time for each of them; or maybe it’s rearranging your schedule so you can squeeze in an hour’s writing time each morning or evening. Maybe going away alone for a weekend to write would help?

Manage Your Distractions

Few of us have the ability to minimize outside stressors, so moving forward relies on your ability to find a creative way to free your mind long enough to work productively. And, to start, stop berating yourself for having too much on your mind, too many responsibilities, or too many tasks left undone. Better to take action and address each distraction as best you can. Include time to do what you have to do—pay the water bill, figure out your taxes, plan a party for a loved one, scrub the floors, rake the leaves. In fact, clearing the decks (and often just doing something physically tiring) will leave your writing brain feeling refreshed and ready to write.

Give Yourself a Break

Take note that, unless you’re just one of those rare birds who always write no matter what, you will experience times in your life when it’s impossible to keep to a writing schedule. People get sick, people have to take a second job, children need extra attention, parents need extra attention, and so on. If you’re in one of those emergency situations (raising small children counts), by all means, don’t berate yourself. Sometimes it’s simply necessary to put the actual writing on hold. It is good, however, to keep your hands in the water. For instance, in lieu of writing your novel:

• Read novels or works similar to what you hope to write.
• Read books about the setting or historical context of your novel.
• Keep a designated journal where you jot down ideas for the novel (and other works).
• Write small vignettes, poems, or sketches related to the novel.
• Whenever you find time to meditate, envision yourself writing the novel.

Instead of feeling like a failed writer, be patient and kind toward your writing self until the situation changes. The less you fret and put a negative spin on it, the more small pockets of time might open up. And, since you have been wise in keeping your writing brain primed, you may find it easier to write than you imagined.

Your Brain Has Shut Down

To access the pathways to the prefrontal cortex and ignite your higher thinking processes, your brain requires a low stress, positive emotional climate. The amygdala, a switching station deep in the brain’s emotional limbic system, determines whether information will be transmitted to the higher prefrontal cortex where long-term, retrievable memories are developed, or to the lower brain where you react but do not learn. When stress levels are high, the amygdala adopts a one-track approach, directing all stimuli responses to the lower brain.

Boredom and Frustration Create Stress

Frequent and sustained boredom and frustration also create stress that encourages the amygdala’s hypermetabolic state and blocks input being channeled to the higher prefrontal cortex’s executive functions. Because input isn’t reaching the prefrontal cortex’s emotional control center, the lower brain responds with fight-or-flight responses, rather than nuanced, “thought-through” responses. If you want to focus at this stage, you have to stimulate your writing brain, draw it out of its reactive mode so messages will again be directed to your prefrontal cortex. Doing something pleasurable is a great way to do it.

Spark Your Brain by Doing Something Fun

Focus on a task that piques your curiosity or delights you, and give pleasure its due by noticing the feelings and staying in the moment long enough to consciously register pleasure. An equal mixture of delight and relevance should break you out of the boredom spell and get your prefrontal cortex in control and firing on all pistons.

Pamper Your Writing Brain

If you want your brain to be brilliant, you need to create the ideal conditions for your mental processes to be refreshed and expanded. A smart writer knows that pampering the brain increases the odds that it will be ready and eager to assist when the next writing session arrives. Even if your brain is working just fine, writing genius isn’t something that happens to you: It’s something you can teach your brain to deliver. Here are some ways you can make sure you’re giving your writing brain what it needs to make your ongoing work stellar and to ensure that you keep growing as a writer:

• Rest: Sleep matters!
• Meditate.
• Keep your brain nourished: Eat foods known to benefit brain health: Fish (wild salmon and sardines in particular), tree nuts (walnuts and almonds, in particular), berries (blueberries, in particular), extra virgin olive oil, beans (lentils and black beans, in particular), mushrooms, cruciferous greens (spinach, broccoli, and kale, in particular), dark chocolate, avocados, seeds (chia, flax, and sesame seeds, in particular), wheat germ, quinoa, beets, coffee, green tea, garlic, turmeric, and cinnamon.
• Drink lots of water to keep your brain hydrated.
• Reward it: Find something you really want. I’ve chosen white gold, wedding band hoop earrings as a reward, because I saw Diane Sawyer wearing similar ones on television, and I coveted them. I have priced them and posted a picture of them on my desktop so I see them every time I sit at my computer. I’ve wanted them for a long time, but they are such a luxury for me that I haven’t been able to justify buying them, so instead I use them as a carrot—when I finish the first draft of my novel, I will buy them for myself, and, more importantly, for my writing brain.
• Reinforce success: Pause to mindfully acknowledge your brain’s contribution to your work; when something is working, keep doing it and reward your dedication and persistence.
• Expand capacity: Stretch your output.
• Strengthen connections: Read about the topic you’re writing on. The Internet is fantastic for this; go online at the end of your workday (or just prior to beginning work) and Google your topic. Even if you click on items that don't seem relevant, your brain may think otherwise and link the info in surprising ways. Have fun with this, welcome absurdity or obscurity. You never know what might pop into your consciousness as you progress through your work: a fully formed metaphor, for example, or the sudden appearance of a thread you hadn’t planned. Your writing brain is a wonder, feed it well.
• Create new synapses: Think outside the box, look for original ideas or associations, and play.
• Daydream: This is your brain and your creativity playing; don’t tell anyone (i.e., your brain) that you are, in fact, feeding it images that can be mined when you write. You are recharging your creativity, sparking new synapses and associations, and planting seeds for future brainstorming sessions.
• Keep a writing journal: This gives your brain official space to grapple with the process of writing. Use it to record gripes, frustrations, disappointments, challenges, hopes, and anything and everything that involves process, including inspiration. Not only will a journal give your multitude of thoughts and emotions an outlet, your brain will reward you for taking your work seriously and using all resources available to grow as an artist.

If you’re pampering your writing brain, it will very soon reward your efforts with increased brainpower and energy.

Push on Through to the End

Now, whew, pushing through the middle is hard, and you’ve done it. All that remains is to write the end—and then edit. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. For now, celebrate; tomorrow, back to writing!

Writers on Craft

“[If] in the middle of writing something you go blank ... You’re being warned, aren’t you? Your subconscious is saying ‘I don’t like you anymore. You’re writing about things I don’t give a damn for. You’re being political, or you’re being socially aware. You’re writing things that will benefit the world. To hell with that! I don’t write things to benefit the world ... I set out to have a hell of a lot of fun’ ... If you’ve got a writer’s block, you can cure it this evening by stopping whatever you’re writing and doing something else. You picked the wrong subject.”

—Ray Bradbury

“By [the] middle of the novel—I mean whatever page you are on when you stop being part of your household and your family and your partner and children and food shopping and dog feeding and reading the post—I mean when there is nothing in the world except your book, and even as your wife tells you she’s sleeping with your brother her face is a gigantic semicolon, her arms are parentheses and you are wondering whether rummage is a better verb than rifle. The middle of a novel is a state of mind.”

—Zadie Smith

“I learned to produce whether I wanted to or not. It would be easy to say oh, I have writer’s block, oh, I have to wait for my muse. I don’t. Chain that muse to your desk and get the job done.”

—Barbara Kingsolver