Is writer's block a real thing, and if so, what can be done about it?

In places where writers gather, online or off, ine­vitably one of the topics we will discuss is writer's block – that notorious stoppage in our normally abundant flow of words.

Raising this topic with other writers often sparks a lively debate, because some people believe writer's block exists, and some think it doesn't. Those in the latter camp will argue that you can always force yourself to write, as long as you're not precious about your working conditions and have done the deep thinking and research needed to write whatever you're writing. Sometimes these people are borderline-cruelly dismissive of others' struggles to create, arguing that only an unserious or undisciplined writer would let a lack of inspiration get in their way.

On the opposite side of the debate, you have the people who believe in writer's block. These people may have an esoteric or woo-woo view of crea­tivity, conceptualizing it as a temporarily dammed river of cosmic energy – or they may see their creativity in more pragmatic terms, believing that they're stuck because of anxiety or indecision or stress or burnout. People on this side of the debate say you shouldn't "force it" when you're blocked, just as you shouldn't slam on the gas pedal while the emergency brake is engaged.

Personally, I land somewhere in between these two perspectives. Having done my SongAWeek challenge for two years – not to mention cranking out content for publications so I can earn a living – I know it’s possible to write when you feel like you have nothing to say. But will the writing be good in that case? Not usually. Sometimes you'll surprise yourself, though.

For me, the problem with writing while uninspired is that I never quite get into flow state that way, and flow state is the part of writing that actually feels like I’m writing. If I'm hard at work, pecking out words and sentences but never quite getting into a groove, it feels more like pulling teeth than like writing. Every word choice feels laborious, whereas normally the sentences seem to arrive like magic in my mind.

When I show up to write a song, or an article, or an essay, and I feel creatively blocked, it's always like this at first. Slow, exhausting, thankless, devoid of pleasure or purpose. But sometimes, I manage a magic trick: sometimes I fight my way into flow state, razing through the weeds until I get to the good stuff underneath. It's like digging in the dirt and striking a water main, getting swept under by the sweet, cold flow.

I have hacked my way into creativity like this many times before – usually because I was on a deadline and/or significant cash was at stake – and it's exciting when I can pull it off. It makes me feel like a real writer, a career writer, someone who's skilled not just artistically but also technically. Like a woodworker who, when she runs out of oak, can chop a damn tree down herself and keep going.

That being said, though: there are times when I just can't seem to write anything. I'll stare into space for five minutes, type half a sentence, hate it, delete it, stare Into space for another few minutes, jot down a few words, roll my eyes at them, hate myself, delete delete delete. Those are the days when I lower my head onto my desk and groan, "Writing is hard," because those are the days when flow state feels too far away to break into. I'm banging on the walls, but some days they're just too thick.

It's on those days that I'm most drawn to wonder: are artistic blockages a product of tangible, earthly forces, curable by actions I can take, like eating more protein at breakfast to fuel my brain, or doing more research on the topic at hand? Or is there some creative superconsciousness, some universal life force of ingenuity, that I have access to at some times and not at others? I would find this to be an irrational idea, if not for the fact that this is exactly how it feels to me – like on some days, the gates are simply barred, and no writing prompt or productivity hack can knock them open.

Since this is ostensibly a newsletter about sex, I'll note here that some of my biggest creative breakthroughs in these last few years have come to me (so to speak) during sex. My partner will be going down on me, or fucking me with a dildo, and I'll let my mind wander to all manner of fantasies, and suddenly I'll be struck by the fully-formed solution to a creative problem I've been grappling with. The perfect final line for a song I've been writing. The hottest possible sex scenario for my fanfic. The cleverest lede for my article. It's an extremely odd, yet consistent phenomenon. The singer/songwriter Leonard Cohen famously said, "If knew where the good songs came from, I'd go there more often" – and I'm lucky to have at least one place I can go where the ideas will flow, that "place" being sex. Aren't brains strange?