An epiphany about writing

There’s no such thing as “musician’s block.”

You sit down and you play the song. If you’re recording it, you can go back and listen where you missed the note, where you were having trouble, what have you. You can learn and try to play it better next time.

But you play the song. You don’t go slow to muddle through; if you have any facility at all with the instrument– you certainly don’t go slower if you’re just singing along, you always sing at your intended tempo, unless you’re fumbling over words in a speed rap.

You just do it. You perform.

Yes, you can go back later and tweak the hell out of it. And you probably should. But there’s nothing like just going out there and belting it out.

It may benefit you to think of writing the same way.

Try not to agonize over what the words are going to be, what you’re going to say. Just start writing, and trust in yourself to write the next word the same way that you sing the next note.

“But it’s not the same!” you cry. “In music, there’s– well, music! Sheet music that you can read!”

That’s true. But if you have some idea of what you’re doing, you don’t need the music to play, certainly not if you’re just hacking around– you know the song well enough. And if you’re familiar with the concept of a “fake book”, you don’t even have the full sheet music– you’ve got some simple chord notes and maybe a melody line.

The point is– just play. Get up and get out there and write, even if it’s just for the duration of a three minute pop song. You can do that. I’m doing that right now, and LOOK! Three hundred words, more or less effortlessly.

Yeah, maybe not my most brilliant or deathless prose. But still– it’s done. It’s here. It’s recorded. Maybe I’ll go back and rewrite, maybe I won’t. The goal is just to get out there and produce something, just get things moving. Doesn’t have to be witty, although some of your natural wit will come through, it’s your style after all that will be in evidence. But the point is that you’ll get it on the page.

And that’s really what you’re concerned about, what you want to break.

C’mon. A pop song. If you’re really in the zone as you start, you’ll get to that rock guitar solo and you’ll just keep wailing. Imagine you’re Pete Townsend on stage, just hammering through. (Or maybe someone more current.) You can do it, preferably without tossing your instrument on the ground in a fit of destruction. Most writers can’t afford to do that.

(Okay, Neil Gaiman does. But he’s gotta keep up appearances.)

Seriously. Just sit down and play. Be that rock star writer you’ve always wanted to be. Just play like you’re on stage in front of a cr– no, don’t tell me you don’t know how, I’ve seen you in the shower.

Metaphorically, I mean.

So what if the words are wrong? I’ve heard you in the shower too. “Big Old Jed had a light on?” Fix it in editing.

C’mon. Give it a shot. You’ll be surprised what you create. And with the right attitude and luck, you may never hit a writing block again.