Tag Archives: writer’s block


Writing every day isn’t easy. I never seem to have a hard time doing it for money or deadlines, but when it’s for me, it’s easy to get blocked. Last summer I took a writing workshop that cleared my mind of the mental torments associated with writing. The “you’re never good enough”s and “that sentence is super awkward, are you going to leave it there?” were finally silenced. It was an amazing experience to feel free and able to let my mind and words fall in sync while my brain operated between that plane and a daydream-like state. The problem is, a year later, it’s hard to duplicate this feeling. Not impossible. It just takes longer. A lot longer. It’s almost as if a yearly tune up workshop is required.

Since I can’t go back to the course, I’m going to try something we were required to do there: write on paper. For the next few days, I’m going to handwrite my posts. Then, I’ll either scan or transcribe them (depending on if I can get my scanner to work or not). There’s something to be said about writing on paper vs. computer. It’s harder to delete what you don’t like on paper. It’s more permanent. Editing is also different as well. You choose your words more carefully when you first start. Then, slowly, you begin to lose your inhibitions — sort of like a newbie at a nudist colony — and let it all hang out. I’m curious to see how this will go. Looking back at my writing from the workshop, everything on paper tended to be more personal, which seems to be a side effect of the physical act of writing. I wonder where it will take me this time.

Playing God

I’ve spent the past four days in writer’s block hell. I’ve had moments in the past like this, but it was usually due to procrastination that I wasn’t getting work done. This time, it’s definitely because of God. I’m working with a new organization (underwritten by a group of churches) on some copy writing material. Theorganization has only been around for two months. Among other things, they have a brochure they would like me to rewrite. I’ve spent about 12 hours working on the brochure (eight of which I’ve spent debriefing people on their jobs). Now I only have one problem, I don’t know what they do. Day-to-day, overall mission statement, upcoming programming, goals, etc. not one clue. By deciding what to write in this brochure, I’m single-handedly deciding what this organization will be about and where they’re heading. In a sense, I’m playing God.

The only problem with playing God is that he had an idea of what he wanted to do and six days to actually execute it. I’m sure he spent a little more time on the logistics and formulation, but clearly that was glossed over in his biography. I, on the other hand, only have four days and notes that resemble a really bad college philosophy paper. I’ve had to resort to using their words and existing phrases such as: ongoing transformation of society.When I asked these people what they believe the function of their “company” is in relation to helping others, here’s what I got back:

[Name of organization here] will work with organizations, individuals, church groups, societies and communities in a variety of roles including: acting as a unifying center, change agent, incubator, catalyst, mirror, collaborator, and training ground…

Brochures are made up of hard facts and bullets. They feature things such as mission statements and overall view of a company and it’s goal(s). The problem here is that said company does not yet have solid goals. Their programming is currently “classified,” meaning I can’t write about it for public consumption, since nothing is confirmed yet. All that I’ve witnessed them do first-hand is attend conferences. And, I’m not talking the local church kind. I mean traveling to places like Dubai, Brussels, St. Petersburg, Barcelona, and Japan. They return enlightened and brimming with philosophical knowledge, but nothing else.

I somehow feel like this isn’t quite what God had in mind, but in the interest of delivering material, I made things up as best I could. I guess you could even say, I lied. They loved my lies. Now it’s official, I’m going straight to Hell.