Life inspires art and art inspires life and truth is stranger than fiction. Add to this: art inspires fiction, and fiction inspires art. And let’s raise a glass to art directors whose visions inform the books, themselves.
Artists are savvy at masking their excuses. Plenty are just plain lazy or too indecisive or too timid to dig in and confront the Beast. So what is the difference, or what is the threshold, between an artist who procrastinates for years and a prudent auteur … who has a plan?
Trying to get some writing done? Procrastinate with a game about trying to get some writing done without procrastinating.
Why try to engineer masterpieces anyway? The idea smacks of our tendency to make a science out of every imaginable pursuit.
As a teacher, and occasional perpetrator, of writing, I decided it would be fun to ask some of my favorite people how they deal with The Block. These bits of testimony will not work for all writers, but I believe a sense of the options (while remembering that one does not struggle alone) is of great practical value in staving off madness.
In other words, do try these solutions, alone or in combination. “Mix and match” is the cry.
"Like John Singer Sargent and Ted Williams, John Updike has been made to suffer for his self-sufficiency. What will become of his posthumous reputation, whether he will have a community of readers at all in fifty years, or in twenty-five, still feels very much like an open question.”
The boy’s death stuck a hot knife into various scars they thought time had healed. Their separate lapsed religious faiths seemed too much to contemplate as their families huddled near them in tears, saying prayers with the curiosity-seekers at the boy’s funeral. Their fury at themselves made them feel scrutinized in the full reveal of public grief. Their judgment of themselves was remorseless.