By Meira Levinson

Photo by Jonathan Chng on Unsplash

Whether you’re working on job documents, class papers, theses/dissertations, or other materials, writing over break can be hard. My previous post discussed tips for general accountability and time management. This post offers strategies for the dreaded elephants in the room: the blank page and/or writer’s block. As usual, pick tips that work for you, disregard those that don’t, and if you’re unsure, feel free to try some out on a limited-trial basis.

Writing Over Break: Getting Past Common Hurdles

Writer’s block can look like a few different things. It can be an initial “blank page” quagmire; the “but I still need to research more” black hole; or a general feeling of anxiety or “being stuck” that can strike at any point in the writing process.

The Blank Page

Who among us hasn’t experienced that terror of the blank page? Here are some tips for getting over this common, normal hurdle:

1. Make the page not blank. At its simplest, simplest level, this fear can be one of getting started—of facing that blank page. So put any kind of writing on that page: free-write, outline your thoughts, or even write out your fears/frustrations—i.e. those fears/blocks that are going through your mind at the moment. Any of these will suffice to make the page not blank anymore, which can help us ease into the groove of writing.

2. Write an outline. Some people prefer to free-write or write a rough draft first, and reverse-engineer an outline later. For others (myself included), outlining can be a good first step toward breaking that blank-page fear. Your outline can be as sparse or detailed as you wish; the point here is less to have a stellar outline and more to get your writing juices flowing.

3. Talk it out (and then transcribe). Sometimes, when you’re stuck, talking out loud about your ideas, or even your thoughts/feelings about the project more broadly, can be easier than committing words to paper. If this is true for you, try talking—to yourself, peers, an adviser—and record yourself while talking. Then either transcribe directly from your recording, or use your recording as a blueprint for an outline or draft.

4. Find models/templates. This can be especially helpful when you’re tackling a new form of writing: say, you’re writing a personal statement, conference abstract, or CV for the first time. Looking at real examples of such forms can help get you started, and give you a blueprint of where to go (mimicking and drawing inspiration from others is okay in writing as long as it doesn’t veer into plagiarism). Ask friends if they’re willing to share their own examples; see if your program offers any; you can even search (selectively) online. And if it’s not your first time writing this kind of document, then find one you wrote before and use that as a template!

The “But I Still Need to Research More” Black Hole

This goes in the general category of “getting derailed.” Sometimes this feeling—the feeling that we’re not ready to write until we research/read more—comes at the very beginning (i.e. when we’re facing the blank page). Sometimes it can strike in the middle of writing, especially if we think, “Oh, but I just need to check something from this article/book…” and then end up spending eight hours re-reading said article/book and others, rather than writing. Research/reading has its time and place. But the “research black hole” is that point where further research actually derails you rather than moving you forward. Some ways to handle this are:

1. You know enough. If you’re at the point of writing, it means one of two things: either you already know enough about your topic to write, or you’re up against a deadline and don’t have a choice. Either way: you’ve researched enough. When I tell this to students, some common protests (and my responses) include:

“No, I really don’t know enough!”

Even if you don’t feel as if you know enough, have researched enough, or are ready to write—trust me that you do. At this point, you most likely know more about your topic (or about your particular ideas about the topic) than the average person on the street. This means you’re ready to start writing—emphasis on the word “start.” Remind yourself that starting to write does not mean setting things down in stone, or that you can’t revise or add material in the future. It simply means starting. Don’t believe me that you already know enough? Try talking—informally—about your ideas to a friend, family member, or colleague. Find someone who’s a patient, good listener, with whom you feel totally at ease—someone who will let you ramble without feeling self-conscious. You’ll be surprised at how much you have to say. Then—and this is crucial—go put what you said down on paper (I’m a fan of recording while talking, so that you don’t forget what you said). Writing is, at its base level, us telling others about our ideas. If you have something to say, you’re ready to start writing.

“But there’s more research out there that I haven’t read yet!”

Yes. There is. There always will be. But if you hold off writing until you’ve read everything there is, you’ll never write. The goal here is not perfection—no professor expects you to have read everything out there. The goal is “good enough”: have you researched enough that you have some preliminary thoughts to write down? Again, remind yourself that you can always continue researching (in separate allotted time), and you can always adjust your writing in light of new research later on—but it shouldn’t freeze you from starting to write in the first place.

2. The “30 minute” exercise. Some types of writing involve working closely with secondary texts—quoting or referencing them, for example. Sometimes this is fine: you might find that you’re able to quickly look up the quote/statistic and continue writing. But sometimes this derails us, either by distracting us into reading more than we need to, or just by slowing down the overall writing pace. If you find you’re getting derailed, try the “30 minute” exercise: give yourself 30 minutes where you’re not allowed to open any sources. In these 30 minutes, you may only write. If you don’t remember a specific quote, fact, or page number, simply leave a blank space or note-to-self in your writing (e.g. “FILL IN QUOTE”). You’ll come back to it after 30 minutes. This method works because it feels less scary to commit to only 30 minutes of source-free writing.

3. Leave “fill in” spaces. If you find the “30 minute” exercise works for you, try applying it on a longer-term basis. Designate separate, scaffolded writing stages:

First, write entirely without looking at your sources, leaving “fill in” spaces within that writing as you go. These “fill in” spaces can be small items like quotes or stats, or large items like a certain scholar’s viewpoint. Either way, “fill in” spaces represent anything you’d need to look up in a book/article in order to incorporate it into your draft. You can do this within the text of your draft (e.g. “Jane Smith claims that [FILL IN #] of students dropped out of high school in [FILL IN YEAR]”) or as a margin comment. You can also apply this strategy toward your whole draft (e.g. a whole chapter), or for a specific part of your draft (e.g. a chapter section).

Next, go back through your draft and fill in those spaces. This can save you time: when you have a laundry list of “fill in” items, you may be less likely to get distracted into reading/researching more than you have to; rather, you know you’re opening your sources for specific, targeted items. Additionally, you can maximize your time by organizing your search via source: going through one book/article at a time and filling in everything from that one source, rather than jumping back and forth between sources (which can be more time consuming if you have to find or re-familiarize yourself with the source each time). If you wish to maximize your time this way, it’s helpful to flag your “fill in” items with the relevant source name as you write them (I did this with the “comments” function of Google Docs and Word).

4. Comments/notes to yourself. Sometimes the issue isn’t looking up specific facts or quotes; rather, sometimes we simply feel we need more research to flesh out or support our ideas. For example, you might be able to write your ideas and the research you’ve conducted thus far about feminist approaches to zombies in film, but you may feel that you still need to incorporate an additional article that discusses this topic. One strategy is to continue writing—without stopping to look up the additional scholarship—but flag the paragraph/section for yourself, via margin comments, as something to return to. If you don’t have time to return to it before sending your draft to peers or your professor, you can turn the comment into a question (“Should I incorporate Jane Smith’s article here?” or “Do you feel this point needs further backing in scholarship?”). Alternatively, you can keep a document version for yourself with the comments (so that you remember your thought process) but delete the comments for your reader, and see if the reader picks up on anything on her own. After all, that’s the point of feedback: to highlight what needs revision (in this case, adding more scholarship) versus what reads fine as is. You might find that while you thought you needed a ton more research, your adviser thinks it works as is.

Feeling Stuck and General Writing Anxiety

Sometimes the hurdle isn’t as specific as the blank page or the research black hole; sometimes it’s a more amorphous anxiety or a general feeling of “being stuck.” If you’re using your writing time to re-organize your notes or outline for the tenth time, it may be due to an underlying fear of (or aversion to) the act of writing itself. The above tips may help; here are some more general ones:

1. Document your anxieties. Free-write about what you’re feeling in this moment: what’s keeping you from writing? This can help you figure out what’s holding you back; it also has the sneaky effect of getting you in the writing zone, because you are putting words to paper.

2. Silence your inner critic. If you’re like me, then you have a disdainful little voice in your head that sometimes pops up, critiquing every word choice as you type. Numerous writers agree: you must silence this voice. Writing can and should be messy. We need to silence that inner critic, and embrace the mess, in order to get the writing going. Save worrying about word choice or sentence structure for later; that should be a distinct later stage of the writing process. Focus instead on generating a lot of content, at a steady pace, even if that content is messy.

3. Keep a “cuttings” document. Silencing that inner critical voice may be straightforward—or, if you’re like me, it’s easier said than done. That’s why I keep what I call a “cuttings” document for each of my projects. This is a dedicated document for informal, unpolished writing related to your draft. Crucially, this is a document that no one else will ever read. When I’m feeling particularly anxious—often about a high stakes piece of writing like a fellowship application—I allow myself to write rambling paragraphs in the formal draft and then cut and paste anything that feels too messy or tangential into my “cuttings” document. This helps me get past the fear of committing perfect words to paper, and instead get on with writing down what I’m trying to say, messiness and all. It also feels safer to me than simply deleting messy or superfluous segments; saving them in my “cuttings” document means I don’t have to worry about ideas getting lost. I can, and do, return to my “cuttings” at later stages of revision or development. You could theoretically begin your writing in the “cuttings” document at the outset; I’ve found that I need to start writing in the “formal” document in order for the juices to flow, but everyone has a different rhythm.

4. Positive reinforcement. Keep a running list of tasks you’ve completed (scaffolding into small, doable tasks helps here) to remind yourself that you did do stuff, you weren’t just sitting around all day. This can be as simple as: rather than deleting completed items from your checklist, keep them there (marked as done) for the day or week, as a visual reminder to yourself of what you got done. Sometimes our feelings of anxiety or being stuck stem from the amorphous nature of writing (and graduate work) itself—the lack of a clear external structure can make us feel like we’ve just been wasting time (even when we haven’t), which is not a motivating feeling. Positive reinforcement and encouragement—whether self-given or from peers—can help us move past that. Plus, it’s always helpful to have an objective, accurate view of how you spent your time and what you’ve accomplished thus far.

5. Self kindness. Speaking of wasting time: sometimes we do. Sometimes, no matter how many strategies we try to implement, we still avoid writing and binge on Facebook. Rather than beating yourself up for this, I suggest doing the following:

• Notice that you’re going off plan.
• Pause.
• Tell yourself that it’s okay that you went off plan. Even, yes, for two (or more) hours. What’s done is done.
• Refocus using any of the above techniques, or others that work for you, and get back on track. (This may be possible right away, or you may need to wait until your next writing slot to get back on track. Either way is fine.)

This may sound counter-intuitive. But beating ourselves up often only serves to heighten the very negative feelings that drove us to avoid writing in the first place; this can result in even further avoidance. Self-kindness and acceptance help us to move past such feelings.

Tune in for the next post, Writing Over Break: Revising and Editing!