“Blogging just seems kindof easy for me, you know?” I told my friend over the phone, explaining my predicament. After years of creating positive social media and blog posts, I wasn’t sure what to make next.
Did I want to write another self-help book? Did I want to stretch myself and write a novel? Or figure out something completely different — a screenplay, a poetry book, a children’s book?
The options blurred before me, and none of them felt exciting. Each creative idea felt like one more bland item that I could check off and complete on a to-do list — not exactly reflective of the transformative power of art.
I was back in the space where I always land between creative projects: Drifting. Bored. And a little stuck.
Stuckness isn’t something to be afraid of. Your creative process is a tangled journey that will ebb and flow for the rest of your life, and not every creative block needs to be targeted and eliminated on the spot.
Here are three reasons why you might be feeling stuck, blah, or logey* in your writing:
Reason 1. You aren’t going deep enough.
When you stay at the surface-level, glossing over the hot pulsing soul energy that wants to take over your work — you aren’t on your creative edge.
And when you aren’t on your creative edge, inspiration fades fast.
Take blogging for example. Despite what I told my friend in my above moment of confusion, blogging isn’t inherently “easy.”
It can feel easy if you’re churning out clickbait and how-to articles all the time. It can feel easy if you’re just trying to improve your website ranking or get a few ad clicks.
But if you’re exposing your heart and your life on your blog? If you’re taking a stand, telling the truth as you see it, risking pissing off family members or being deeply misunderstood?
It isn’t easy.
My blogging only felt easy because I was bored. I was skirting around interesting topics. I was hiding cool parts of my life, like the outdoor boudoir photo shoot I did, or the way I quit my full-time career and manifested my dream part-time job all at once last year.
And when we try to mask these jewels of stories, when we bury them under quote photos or generalized stories — we dim their magic and impact.
Solution: Say what you want to say (you can practice this first in your journal). Add a few details that startle you, things that you’re a little jittery to share. Try a new genre. Take a stand and have an opinion. Dare to let people dislike or misunderstand you.
Reason 2. You’re lost in the woods partway through your project.
At first, it feels easy to create from a stream of newness and excitement: “I’m writing a book! I started a podcast! I’m doing it! I have so much to say! I don’t know where this is going… but it’s going!”
But flash forward a few months and you may find yourself huddled alone, confused about what to write next, questioning why you started, and disconnected from your original mission.
This is a natural part of the creative process. When you hit a wall in the middle like this: there is nothing wrong with you, there is nothing to fix, and you don’t have to pretend this middle part of the journey is easy.
You’re Little Red Riding Hood before the clearing emerges. You’re the disheveled living room floor halfway through spring cleaning, when all the cabinets are emptied across the carpet. A snapshot of the room would look chaotic and dusty. The camera doesn’t catch the 10 garbage bags that you donated this morning, the progress you have made.
Solution: Remember why you started, where you’re headed, how it’s going to feel once you get there, and who your words are going to help.
You know this is all leading somewhere, but you can’t see it yet because you’re right in the middle. Keep putting one word in front of the other. Keep showing up for yourself. You’re over halfway there, and the light will re-emerge sooner than you think.
Reason 3. You’re reverting to an energy of Normalness.
That people-pleasing, don’t-grow-too-big-for-your-britches, “Aww shucks it’s no big deal” energy doesn’t serve you when you’re writing. It dilutes your work by removing the emotional charge.
Solution: Create a super-confident alter ego and tap into it when you write.
Beyonce created the bombastic alter ego Sasha Fierce to step into while performing. Stefani Germanotta created the alter ego Lady Gaga for the same reason. Eminem makes a clear distinction between Marshall Mathers (his normal self) and Slim Shady (his shocking entertainer self).
What’s the name of your confident, fierce, fully-expressed alter ego? How does she face the next step before her? How can you use her wisdom to overcome this stuckness?
I love you. Keep putting one word after another.
I’m about to launch some amazing writing and book coaching packages to help more writers unleash their stories — and I’m so thrilled to make this leap in my business! Stay tuned.
In the meantime I made you something new: this Imposter Syndrome Breakthrough Guide. Download it, soak it in, enjoy it, and implement it.
Peace + Enchanted New Beginnings,
— or KelseyNic, my creative alter-ego 🙂
* I thought my family made up the word “logey” until I saw it on Urban Dictionary while writing this blog post…