writer's block - the ultimate inspiration
my “writer’s block” haiku was actually part of an article I wrote for the e-journal GotPoetry.com. I am reprinting the article in its entirety with my own permission.
Have you ever set aside a precious block of leisure time for writing, only to find that the Word Well has run dry? Speaking for myself, this phenomenon is at least as common as its opposite: experiencing a “haiku moment” without a means of capturing it in words. The latter often happens when I’m on the train: I see something that jars my imagination but circumstances make it impossible to write. The former usually occurs when I suddenly find myself with a few unclaimed minutes. I tell myself to write, but I draw a blank. I’m sure I’ve experienced something worth sharing, but nothing comes to mind.
In the past I’ve unplugged this creative logjam by writing about it. As a matter of a fact, my first published haiku was inspired by... a lack of inspiration:
staring
at a blank sheet of paper —
a night without words
What worked for me 12 or 13 years ago still works today. I try to write during my commute to and from Boston, but sometimes I’m totally empty. So the other day I started with “writer’s block“ as a first line and then gave myself the exercise to jot down the first interesting thing I saw:
writer’s block —
a man fishing bottles
from the trash
Looking through my archives reveals that I do this fairly often.
writer’s block —
the dog sniffs
every tree
writer’s block —
a kite
caught in a tree
writer’s block —
feeling every swing
of the axe
writer’s block —
rearranging
the poetry magnets
...and before I know it, I’m writing!
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my “writer’s block” haiku was actually part of an article I wrote for the e-journal GotPoetry.com. I am reprinting the article in its entirety with my own permission.
Have you ever set aside a precious block of leisure time for writing, only to find that the Word Well has run dry? Speaking for myself, this phenomenon is at least as common as its opposite: experiencing a “haiku moment” without a means of capturing it in words. The latter often happens when I’m on the train: I see something that jars my imagination but circumstances make it impossible to write. The former usually occurs when I suddenly find myself with a few unclaimed minutes. I tell myself to write, but I draw a blank. I’m sure I’ve experienced something worth sharing, but nothing comes to mind.
In the past I’ve unplugged this creative logjam by writing about it. As a matter of a fact, my first published haiku was inspired by... a lack of inspiration:
What worked for me 12 or 13 years ago still works today. I try to write during my commute to and from Boston, but sometimes I’m totally empty. So the other day I started with “writer’s block“ as a first line and then gave myself the exercise to jot down the first interesting thing I saw:
Looking through my archives reveals that I do this fairly often.
...and before I know it, I’m writing!
Have you ever set aside a precious block of leisure time for writing, only to find that the Word Well has run dry? Speaking for myself, this phenomenon is at least as common as its opposite: experiencing a “haiku moment” without a means of capturing it in words. The latter often happens when I’m on the train: I see something that jars my imagination but circumstances make it impossible to write. The former usually occurs when I suddenly find myself with a few unclaimed minutes. I tell myself to write, but I draw a blank. I’m sure I’ve experienced something worth sharing, but nothing comes to mind.
In the past I’ve unplugged this creative logjam by writing about it. As a matter of a fact, my first published haiku was inspired by... a lack of inspiration:
staring
at a blank sheet of paper —
a night without words
What worked for me 12 or 13 years ago still works today. I try to write during my commute to and from Boston, but sometimes I’m totally empty. So the other day I started with “writer’s block“ as a first line and then gave myself the exercise to jot down the first interesting thing I saw:
writer’s block —
a man fishing bottles
from the trash
Looking through my archives reveals that I do this fairly often.
writer’s block —
the dog sniffs
every tree
writer’s block —
a kite
caught in a tree
writer’s block —
feeling every swing
of the axe
writer’s block —
rearranging
the poetry magnets
...and before I know it, I’m writing!
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