Sandy Nathan's YOUR SHELF LIFE

I wrote an introductory article on unlocking writers block a few weeks ago. (The one illustrated with photos of us trying to get a horse into a trailer.) After three weeks of vacation in New Mexico, I’m home and happily and productively working on the rewrite of Mogollon, sequel to my award winning novel, Numenon. […]

What’s writer’s block? Essentially, it’s psychological resistance, lack of personal development, egotism, and/or self involvement and importance. “My work is so important …” Hand wringing. Angst. Pain.

On the other hand, you may not be able to write because the time isn’t right. You and your book idea ain’t cooked enough.

LET’S GET DEEPER INTO WRITER’S BLOCK:

First off, check out the article about teaching Corcovado to load and unload from a trailer from our ranch web site. It presents the fundamental lesson of this post: YOU CAN’T MAKE A 1,200 POUND ANIMAL WITH A BRAIN THE SIZE OF A WALNUT DO ANYTHING. IT HAS TO WANT TO.
Now, simply replace Corco with yourself as you work through your block.

The first question to ask before writing or rewriting anything is: Am I the person to write this book? And––Do I have permission to write this book?
Through an intensely painful experience of my grief over my brother’s death, I found the reason I couldn’t begin my rewrite of one of my draft novels: I was trapped in the coiled hose was a load of unfelt feelings. My first editor once said, “How can you not feel feelings?” It’s easy. In graduate school, we had to memorize two single-spaced pages of defense mechanisms we humans create to avoid feeling what we feel. They’re what keep us shallow and inauthentic.

Stephen Levine, regarded by many as the foremost grief counselor in the country, says, “We live in an ocean of pain.” All of us have endured great loss. Some of us have endured great losses: We’ve been napalmed, lost limbs, sight, homes, and whole families in war or genocide. The rest of us know the losses that all of us endure: the deaths of beloved family members, jobs, security, and trust. Beneath these is the cry of the universe, the cry of universal pain that we feel when we read works by Khaled Husseini (author of The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns) and others.

We live in an ocean of grief.
The only way to survive is to experience the grief and then feel the love of the universe, the infinite, intelligent, blissful love that upholds us and is our ultimate home. It’s larger than grief.

I felt that, too. It released my grief. I lay weeping for a few minutes and then got up, knowing I was almost fit to write.