11 Ways to Overcome Writer's Block

Writer's block-- it happens to everyone. Well, not me, you know, I've never, personally, had a problem like that. I mean, sometimes if I have too much whiskey the words will come out a little bit soft, but you know, they're still words, so that counts. Right? But enough about me. I'm here for YOU right now. You're the one with the problem, and I'm going to fix it for you, because that's what friends are for. So here are eleven ways to overcome writer's block-- and none of them were created by Chat GPT!

One: Try to think of ten ways to overcome writer's block, then post it on Vocal, and fight tooth-and-nail with anyone who calls you stupid. (Quote Dionne Warwick in the intro, see if anyone notices.)

Two: Memorize and write down-- in your own hand-- a famous speech, such as "The Gettysburg Address" or "I Have a Dream" or the one about di**s and a**ho**s in Team America, World Police. Because sometimes all it takes is actually writing down words to get the flow going.

Three: Go for a walk. I'm not saying it should be a long walk, or end up at a bar, or that you should drink too much whiskey, take someone back to your place, and then tell him/her/them that you don't know why you can't "write" anymore, I'm just saying-- get some fresh air.

Four: Write something with your non-dominant hand. It will get so tedious that your other hand will get mad and grab the pen and finish the sentence itself. Or, if you type instead of write, use your toes.

Five: Go off genre. Usually you write cyber-romance gay comedy fan fiction inspired by alt-history where Buffy the Vampire Slayer beat out Giovanni de'Medici for Pope in 1513? Try cyber-romance gay comedy fan fiction inspired by alt-history where Buffy the Vampire Slayer beat out Adriaan Florensz Boeyens for Pope in 1522. I know, weird, right?

Six: Eat something. Maybe you're just hangry.

Seven: Think about how, in all reality, no one will ever read anything you write, and even if they do, they won't like it, and if they do like it and they're not your mom or your spouse or that weirdo from your writing class, it's never going to get published, and if it does, no one's going to actually buy it, and even if it becomes a best-seller, the critics will tear it to pieces and it will never win any prizes, and even if does win many prizes and its taught in schools and copies of it are put on space-ships just in case we ever do find intelligent life out there, it's still probably not all that good, not really. So since it sucks anyway, why not just write? You're welcome.

Eight: Have you tried whiskey, though? They say it worked for Hemingway. That's actually a myth, but so what, I hear whiskey is the next best thing to sex I mean writing.

Nine: Go back and look at some of your old writing. That poem from eighth grade? Oh my god, you were so cringe. There's no way you could write something so cringe now that you're a grown-ass adult. Right? Pretend you're talking to eighth-grade you. Tell 'em the one about adverbs. That's always good advice.

Ten: If all else fails, just give up. Seriously. There's about a million things out there more fulfilling, satisfying, profitable, useful, noble, do-able, possible, respectable, interesting, fun, exciting, and/or sexy that you could do. Maybe writing's just not your thing. Sure, it's all you think about night and day, it's all you've ever wanted to do, it's what defines the very fiber of your being, it's the only thing that you can think of that justifies drawing breath in this stupid, crazy, messy, adverb-addicted world, but, you know. There's also Fortnight.

11: Go buy a new pen. Like a fancy one.