Why We Don't Write
Writers are known for procrastinating, for working in spurts and at odd hours, and for waiting to be inspired. Sometimes, there is resistence toward what a voice inside (or outside) us says we “should” do, or need to do. Intuitively, we know that the best, most worthwhile creative work tends to come from a happy, relaxed, playful, confident state — and when we’re not feeling that way, on some level we know that the work we do might not amount to much in terms of quantity or quality. Although, of course, sometimes just getting started — forcing oneself, at first — helps improve our state, and leads ultimately to worthwhile action.
I think there are three main reasons why creative people avoid work at times:
1. We don’t know what to create next, and are skeptical about anything worthwhile coming. This might also mean that we’re unsure what to DO next on a project — meaning we don’t have a clear sense of our next, achievable task, and thus feel a vague malaise about getting started at all. The movie ADAPTATION covered all this rather well — entertainingly, but also painfully, at times, for those of us who have been there.
2. We’re afraid the process will be unpleasant, a struggle — that we’ll feel bad while doing it. This could happen because we’re not liking what’s coming, not feeling it’s good (or we’re good), or because nothing seems to be coming at all. We may be overly critical, or imagine others being critical, or we may just not be “in the mood.” When nothing flows, there are few worse feelings — we know from experience.
3. We don’t trust that what we do if we sit down to work will be of any value to others or ourselves — that it will lead anywhere in terms of results in the world (i.e. a finished work we and others find worthwhile, and the possibility of payment, publication, production, and future opportunities). So it seems kind of useless.
Obviously these three all point to a fear-based lack of confidence, a worried perspective that comes from feeling in need, vulnerable and alone. To my mind, a spiritual perspective as presented in THE ARTISTS WAY is the antidote for this, so that you turn these three possibilities around in a productive way, on a regular basis, even a daily practice:
1. We sit down with something specific we plan to do — an identifiable, achievable task. It may mean exploring an idea that came to us during a “non-writing” time. It may mean brainstorming to understand more about whatever it is we’re working on, so we’ll arrive at something to write. (This means querying ourselves and that inner source of ideas and inspiration about what we would really like this material to be. Positive questions and openness to possibilities are essential.) It may mean a first pass at a writing a scene we have outlined and are ready to have a go at. Or a rewrite of something we’ve already drafted. As far as “worthwhile” goes, we’re doing this to please ourselves at this point — to record and explore and play with what comes to us and move it in the direction of becoming something we really like.
2. We trust in what comes, and our own perspective on it as we develop and evaluate and play — knowing nothing we do today will be finished, final and forever, nor does anyone ever have to see it until we’re passionate about it (and that includes the critical voice within us that might want to tear things down). Most of all, we stay aware of our emotional state and CHOOSE not to be in struggle mode. If we find ourselves there, we move through it without resisting it. Resisting resistence creates more resistence.
3. We remember that we’re not doing this to get some outcome out of it for ourselves, but to give something within us — and we trust that when that is done with diligent purity of intent, it can only be a positive for us in some way. We believe that what comes to us as creative ideas comes from a source that has our back — that has our best interests in mind — and we trust in that, not needing to worry about what others might do for us down the line to reward our work.



Good thoughts, Erik. Personally, I am not in this place right now…but I didn’t realize I wanted to be a screenwriter until age 30, and it’s sentiments like these that held me back. Now, I’m ready to create.