They freeze because there are too many of them and they aren’t sure how to separate them, come up with a clear direction, and how to make sense of their thoughts.

From personal experience, I almost always know what I want to write about, but what I don’t know is where to begin, which thread to pull first, or whether the thing in my head will survive my effort to articulate it. Or worse: I get anxious that once I get started, I’ll be distracted and lose my train of thought.

This makes me try to create the perfect conditions to sit with my thoughts, in total silence with my phone and far away at a safe enough distance from the kitchen that thoughts of ‘But I could eat…’ don’t distract me to the point when I just give up.

When I sit with all of that too long, I get trapped in my head, and the longer I stay there, the harder it becomes to start at all. So I just don’t.

I don’t try to court frustration more than is absolutely necessary in life, and the more I think, the less I’m able to get down to work. The blank screen doesn’t feel exciting or like a wide open road to explore. To me, it feels like a mirror reflecting back that I have no business doing this in the first place.

(That is, unless, I’ve been assigned something, leading to a huge sigh of relief, knowing I can summon the skills to execute an idea that didn’t necessarily originate in my brain).

The pressure turns into a bully telling me there’s a very real possibility that the book I imagine won’t be as good as I hope.

And also, it tells me that if I start, I’ll have to finish it, and that finishing it means I’m committing to a months long exercise in frustration in struggling to articulate what (occasionally) makes sense, at least to me. I know I’m not alone in this, and I know that getting started is the actual hard part.

The pattern is exactly the same every time I work on writing something:

In fact, it’s something I know how to do, and it's easier than I thought.

We’ve all started new things hundreds of times in our lives, and the fear of the unknown is so much worse than just giving it a shot, and seeing the thing itself feels more natural and possible than our fears had allowed us to see. 

The myth that writers struggle because they’re undisciplined, or that writing is supposed to be painful - that suffering is part of the deal - is total nonsense. The struggle usually isn’t about finding the right idea; it’s about traversing the gap between thinking and writing.

Consider the many excuses I’ve recently offered myself:

“I don’t know where to start.”

“I need to think about this more.”

“If I start, I’ll have to commit.”

“Maybe this is a bad idea…”

These thoughts don’t mean I’m incapable of this, they mean I’m asking too much of myself all at once. What has helped me isn’t forcing ‘discipline’ or trying to have clearer ideas, it has been changing what ‘starting’ meant to me.

I’ve figured out that momentum matters more than ‘brilliance’ at this stage, and I’m here to tell you that once you start, the dam breaks and it gets easier to keep going, knowing you’re doing something that you’re fully capable of.

It actually gets to be really satisfying and thought provoking, as I mine ideas, memories and experiences to begin crafting a story. Shortly after I stop the anxiety and procrastination, I discover that what is on my mind does make sense, and it is working. I can do this.

I just need to remind myself that overcoming stuckness and doubt is well within my capabilities, and the giant payload of pressure I put on myself was the obstacle, not the ideas themselves. 

Reframe what’s on your mind as a conversation with your most trusted confidant.

Ask yourself:

It’s as easy as that, and creates the simplest framework for you to begin thinking about what you would like to share. 

- Sarah

^{OTHER COOL THINGS BY SUPREME ROBOT}