DAVID ARTHUR WALTERS

MIAMI BEACH, FLORIDA 33139


Approx: 2,200 words

DO NOT BELIEVE IN WRITER’S BLOCK
BY
DAVID ARTHUR WALTERS

Do not to believe in Writer's Block if you want to be a prolific writer. You will surely write if you just write seven days a week instead of adhering to faith in Writer’s Block. Writing will become a habit that is hard to break if you stick with it.  Indeed, a writer may very well write herself to death and think nothing of it once she gets addicted to the process.

A few writers are natural-born writers, but writing might not be very much fun for others until they get hooked on it – the first attempts are often revolting. But take me for an example. I am so addicted to writing that I have abandoned tobacco, alcohol, women, money, and vegetables to enjoy writing at length. On the rare occasions that I do feel miserable, I ask myself why I am suffering; the obvious answer is the usual suspect: I am not writing. Since I am not a masochist, and would rather take flight from pain than to run into it, I proceed to write about any subject whatsoever, including Writer's Block, to rid myself of misery. I am soon delighted to be alive and writing once again.

Some writers blame Writer's Block on loneliness. But an authentic alcoholic drinks best when alone; likewise do the profoundest authors write best in solitude. Yes, there are exceptions: Jane Austen, a fine author whose attention to superficial details I cannot stand, is one of several exemplary exceptions to the rule: I don't know how she could write with all that racket in the living room. The beginning writer might want to hang out in a pub and chat with people rather than sit down at home and write; existentialists and realists seem adept at doing both once when they get tight, yet the greatest writers stay at home to serve only one master - saloon writing is not recommended. The shy writer might stay at home and write, expecting to impress people at a distance and to get some recognition. If anyone bothers to respond, she might not like the criticism once it is received. She might be unable to go on, and claim she has been crushed by Writer's Block. She would be better off writing to please herself if she wants to keep good company with her self. In any case her readers are not around when she is writing, and even favorable criticism is not very comforting from afar. Besides, readers might not care to read her work at all, at least not until she becomes a famous writer. Even worse, her best friends might begin to avoid her lest she give them something awful to read, expecting them not only to read it but to rave about it.

A writer who does not believe in Writer’s Block can learn to love to write for the sake of the sort of self-serving writing that is its own reward, particularly when the sentences are rather long. Wanting to win readers and fame and fortune or simply to get published from time to time is an insufficient cause for persistence in a solitary activity that is so often ignored and infrequently reinforced with praise and remuneration by a commercial community whose favorite diversion is worshiping established success at any cost and finding fault with others who are neither rich nor famous.

We should not blame competitive writers for being critical: after all, if the best writers were not the best critics, their best sellers would be worthless in the long run. Mind you that most best selling books are soon forgotten; their presence in large libraries provides evidence of the mediocrity of their times. Wherefore we must look to excellent authors instead of good writers for enduring work.  There is purportedly a difference between a writer and an author: an author is presumably the first cause or author of his deeds, while the writer is more of a parrot than a prophet. That is not to say that mediocre books should not win popularity contests once a select few, usually those written by established authors, are chosen by the publishing establishment, nor is it to claim that writers should not subscribe to advice on how to succeed in getting big rewards for potboilers, or to obtain modest income for hacking out nonfiction according to the current formula for good writing – if we count unpaid writers, the average annual pay for writers is about a dollar a year.  But commercial writing is best not taken too seriously lest it become a clog or writer’s block tied to the prisoner’s leg.

The budding writer might think of writing as indefinite freedom, and then discover that she has trouble being her own boss. She cannot make herself write for long when home alone. Why? “You have Writer’s Block,” she might be told by other writers, many of whom like to commiserate and thereby feel writerly instead of writing. Well, a few of them do write a few 'How-To-Write' articles.

Despite the financial incentive, commercial writers also believe in Writers Block. Commercial writing is the death of indefinite freedom.  Freedom is, at least according to some thinkers, the very nature of the soul. The commercial writer with a deadline to fill would then be literally dead before he hits the Wall, hence the refusal to budge when confronted by a dead-end writing job is sometimes attributed to the pernicious influence of Writer’s Block.  Yet the attribution is mistaken; there is no such thing as Writer’s Block, nor is there a Wall for those given to infinite reflections on anything at all. One must apparently do something in order to be true to oneself; do something else if you do not want to write, or do nothing at all if you can get away with doing nothing except being.

Now a writer without a boss might be having difficulty writing because, when she is not feeling 'inspired' by her muse to write something down, she does not know what to do or how to go about it. That is what technique is for: a master does not produce a masterpiece every day; but she produces something; and because she has practiced, the production is not bad. A great actor in any field does not give an inspired, command performance every night, but her technique or the 'Method' alone will get her through a passable performance, and no matter where she stands on stage she is center stage because she knows what she is doing, or at least she looks the part. She might lay an egg and have to live with it, but she will not be sitting on a Writer’s Block.

Someone who believes in Writer’s Block said she could not find an interesting subject to write about. Any subject will do when the real subject is subjective: I was once intrigued by an artistic video of flies buzzing about a fresh cow paddy. As for my own technique or style, I have several styles that I picked up at random – frustrated professor that I am, I prefer a tedious academic style. In fine, if you love doing something and are sincere about being good at it and do it long enough, you are bound to improve with the practice, so just pick a subject and have at it.

For me, writing is not a job: it is my Work, the calling I am addicted to.  As a truly independent journalist and authentically free freelance writer, my Declaration of Independence thrives on rejection: rejection stimulates my nervous system to produce mine own dope. Do not bother to tell me how to write. I commend people for taking writing courses, for listening to the advice of successful authors, for attending schools of journalism and getting all sorts of credentials to prove their obedience to the rules, yet all that is anathema to me in my carefree, independent capacity.

The neurotic writing strategy I seem condemned to by my upbringing used to be quite successful in the good old days. A few self-styled authors still make the grade from time to time, but they are not applauded as of yore, when intellectuals were freedom fighters. Indeed, to say someone is “self-styled” is to discredit him nowadays. Those who wanted freedom from traditional nobility got what they asked for, and consequently lost their dignity; confined to office cubicles, they barely know what is going on in the streets.

 In the good old days, the dignity of an artist was diminished if her work could be attributed to the force of outside causes, particularly vulgar taste. Great credit was bestowed on the apparently free artist who lorded it over creation. Maximum praise was given to the supposedly self-taught author of self-initiated, original works; the creator who is seemingly the first cause or god of his wondrous creations is the most admirable of creators.  We marvel at his works because they seem miraculous.

God does not work for money – but He seems to like much praise. Artists used to be insulted when told they painted for money. Authors resented the term “potboilers” when applied to their works. Art in those days was more highly esteemed when it was unappreciated, rejected, suppressed by the establishment, hence was significant of the awesome struggle of the freelancer for freedom. Once the inner workings of the establishment were exposed to critical scrutiny, the windmills lost their charm over society; the received authorities abdicated, capitulated, and were perchance decapitated. The circle of freedom spread as the acid of reason dissolved the established charades; production and consumption were rationalized; God and Nature were murdered by reason - the last great whatness or quiddity to go was the I-god. And with the death of the I-god, writers have become writing machines; as such they must be socially machined according to suitable blueprints, then inspected and certified by the presiding engineers. Certified writers are almost embarrassed to say something personal, to speak in the first person today; the use of the first person pronoun detracts from their authority.

In fact, despite my appearance as the free agent of my vanity, I must confess that I am not authentically independent: I have arrived at many of the same conclusions taught by bona fide professors of late.  Even when I am asserting myself most passionately, I sometimes doubt that the I-god of me really exists at all. I am not god: I am an effect of causes. I am a “self-taught” writer because I was given several causes during my innocence to rebel against conventions. As Maurice de Vlaminck said, “Painting was an abscess which drained off all the evil in me. Without a gift for painting I would have gone to the bad. What I could have achieved in social context only by throwing a bomb, which would have led me to the guillotine, I have tried to express in art, in painting, by using colors straight from the tube. Thus I have been able to use my destructive instincts to recreate a sensitive, living and free world.”

I cannot take much credit for learning at random what I could have picked up more readily in established schools.  I do like to believe that I differ in my independent spirit, which takes a personal yet cosmic interest in every subject my consciousness encounters. My own school is the ark of civilization, the library where I roam and hearken to the Great Conversation. It is there that I receive advice from the best authors who have ever lived - I never feel alone with their spirits nor do they depress me. I am so far from being independent in my language that the attachment of my name to my work constitutes plagiary. If my memory were perfect, I could cite dozens of authors who said what I have said in this very article. I suppose my peculiar twist of the same old story is worthy of a copyright.

At least I do not believe in Writer’s Block. I have the Work, and there is no stumbling blocks or deadlines to it as I roam the aisles.  No, my random walks do not give me any great advantage over the commercial writer, provided that she does not believe in Writer’s Block. She might not want to go to work or to meet deadlines, but she does so anyway, and once she gets started, it is not so bad, and she gets so interested in the transcendental Work of works that she forgets she did not want to come to work in the first place. 

I love writing so much that I highly recommend that everyone take up writing. A person may never become a great writer or author, but then again she might become one, especially if she does not believe in Writer’s Block and practices every day. That will help the writer survive the Day Job no matter what it might be. There is nothing wrong with being a lesser writer, an unpaid writer or a hack writer who knocks down a few hundred dollars or hundreds of thousands of dollars for pulp. Indeed, there would be no great writers without those who are less than great.  It is up to every writer to get into the habit of writing and find a position along the writing scale.

Now I doubt that you will ever lay eyes on this article of mine, yet I am pleased enough with it to submit it. If you are permitted by the authorities to read it, you might think my opinion is incredible if my best selling book is not on the stands yet or if you have not all ready seen my name in the papers and magazines. You might pause to read my dance, conclude that I am a writing maniac instead of a writing machine, and laugh at my expense – I will be glad of that. If what I say seems wise, please consult a bona fide, credentialed critic before taking my opinions to heart. If you do want to take my word for it, then rest assured that, if you would be an authentic writer, then do not believe in Writer’s Block. If you cannot remember that, then just remember this: Never Stop Writing.

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