Why Being Ghosted And Having Writer's Block Is Totes The Same

Whisper the words ‘writer’s block’ to any professional author who works with deadlines and I guarantee you’ll see a swift shadow of doom cross their face.

Look carefully, and you’ll spot the post-traumatic twitch in their left eye as they recall the hours, days, or even weeks, they spent looking for that goddamn inspiration that just suddenly flew out of the window.

I would say a good 99.9% of professional writers have been haunted by this all-consuming condition. And if they haven’t? Well, I guess magnificence does exist.

Defined as a condition, writer’s block is when an author experiences a complete lack of creativity, or a significant slow-down, which prohibits them from being able to write anything that they feel happy with. The words just won’t flow. And it doesn’t happen exclusively to new writers: it can, and does, happen to the most seasoned of wordsmiths, too.

There’s no telling when writer’s block will hit either. One day you’re sat happily tapping away without a care in the world. But the next day? Tumbleweed for brains. In fact, it’s a bit like when you’ve been in the talking stages with a new suitor for a couple of weeks. At first, the Snapchats are flying left, right, and centre, and your phone battery is constantly on the verge of self-combustion due to those five hour phone calls every night. And then one day, you wake up and realise you’ve been well and truly ghosted. Again. There is nobody there.

And that’s exactly what happens to your words during a stint of writer’s block. They disappear into thin air. Straight out of your head and into the ether. Poof!

Come to think of it, the way you react to writer’s block and the way you react to ghosting is somewhat similar too. As you obsessively overthink of how to summon your words back from the void, the panic starts to set in, and your appetite begins to dwindle as your deadline looms. You long for something that just isn’t coming: a text message…the words for that strapline…a full winter fuel assessment Sigh.

You start to covet your ‘happy places’ in a bid to feel better, starting with the candle aisle in Homesense. And it’s not even October, yet. If it were, at least the ghosting would have been somewhat festive. Anyway, you dawdle down the aisles deeply sniffing knock offs of Yankee Candle’s '“A Child’s Wish” (whatever the heck that smells like) looking for inspiration. But right now, your life is being scented only by the stench of the less popular choice: “An Adult’s Anguish”.

Drive-thru coffee shops suddenly become a favourite place to visit, too. Not because of the actual coffee, oh no. But because you can blast your best playlist on your way there to release some of that uptight energy. Sometimes, you might opt for a little Mariah with the AC on full blast pretending you’re in a music video, hair flying in the breeze. (Not that I’ve ever done that, of course). Other times, only Linkin Park throwbacks will do whilst you sip your oat milk caramel latte through the metal straw you especially brought from home. Because even though you're going through utter turmoil, there's no sense is letting your standards slip now, is there. (Ahem).

Your friends and family will tell you to indulge in a little self-care. Take some time for you. Have a bath. Read a book. Heck, get on down to The Hepworth and soak up some terribly peculiar pieces of art. Anything to take your mind off wallowing in self-pity and those good old feelings of abandonment.

In a desperate last ditch attempt, you even begin to take long walks in the great outdoors, because, NATURE. Everybody says that’s the answer, right? Sometimes you just can’t see the wood for the trees, you know. Sorry. Had to.

But I can tell you now, you won’t find those words tumbling on down the Trans Pennine Trail on a sunny day. Nor will you find them at the bottom of a bottle of Cali Red: trust me, I’ve tried. Real hard. In fact, I’ve found only one thing in the world that truly combats the utter torment of writer’s block (and being ghosted, of course). And it’s something that you can’t alter. Not unless you have Bernard’s Watch (hey, 90's kids!) or are a secret wizard, at least.

And that one thing? It’s simply (frustratingly) time.